First an Auntie, then a Boobie

I'm under the spell of Twitter - love my TweetDeck, DMs, the whole kit and caboodle. I'm following and getting followed by some fantastic folks and want to send a shout out to Melanie Notkin, Auntrepreneur and founder of SavvyAuntie.com, the "first community for cool aunts, great aunts, godmothers and all women who love kids." How's that for a worthwhile cause?

Melanie's Webby-award winning website provides all sorts of resources for being the coolest auntie and as a former really cool auntie, I would have loved to have this site when my older nephews and nieces were younger, but that was B4TI (Before the Internet).

Here's to all the wonderful aunties, great aunties, godmothers and women who love kids in the world! And check out SA's cool Sephora contest - I know this former Savvy Auntie could use some new makeup, since my three DDs have used my current stash on their American Girl dolls.

I'll be reminiscing about my own about my pre-Boobies Savvy Auntie days, but have to ask my oldest nephew and niece, who have surpassed all of us with their coolness, for permission to relate some fine examples of my auntie-hood. All I can say that the reason I became a mom is because I loved being an auntie so damn much.

G'night

Yoga Mama 30 Day Challenge

I turned 50 in December. As my nine year old daughter informed me, that officially made me the oldest mother at her school. I've gotten used to little kids assuming I was my kids' grandma, but to hear my own talk about how old I am in comparison to her friends' mothers, got me thinking I needed to start a serious stay young and on the planet program. So when my DH's siblings began asking me what I wanted for the big occassion, I passed on the maid (too much pressure), the massage and the other suggestions. I had heard about a new Bikram Yoga studio that had opened in Longmont that offered a $59 introductory unlimited month and a little voice inside my head said, "DO IT."

I didn't think I'd like the hot form of yoga and quite honestly, my only recent exposure to yoga had been while pregnant with my oldest and that was nine years ago. I'd always steered clear of hot yoga because it drummed up unpleasant olfactory memories of waiting for subways in 120 degree stations in NYC and that wasn't my idea of relaxation.

But you only turn 50 once, so I figured what did I have to lose? As it turns out, nothing and more than I imagined to gain. It's been two months and while I know it's pat to say this and I can see the eyes rolling as I write it, but yoga is changing my life. Besides my body returning to some sense of flexibility and strength that it hasn't known in more than a decade, the more I sweat, the more I learn about myself.

March 1st, I signed up for a 30 day challenge, not for any other reason than to see if I could do it. I can buy goodies at the studio at a discount if I complete the challenge, but I'm doing it for different reasons. I'm now 7 days into the challenge, 23 to go (and yes I'm counting) and I'll be posting my insights, frustrations and otherwise as a way to share this challenge.

Day 1: Took a deep breath and said, yes, I can.

Day 2: Took another deep breath and said yes I can again.

Day 3: Mistakenly decided I had passed into another realm, where the classes were getting 'easy.' Why did I decide this? Because somewhere between Day 2 and Day 3, my breathing went from out and out gasping to calm and I got really full of myself. I boasted to my family that I was entering a new place where the work would be internal, that the physical had been figured out.

Day 4: Kicked the shit out of me. All of it. Wibble wobbled and I then fell down.

Day 5: Kicked whatever shit day 4 didn't kick out of me out of me. Realized I don't have enough yoga clothes to make it through the week, let alone a 30 day challenge.

Day 6: Learned to laugh in Eagle pose when Zach said our next posture would be 'kickyourasana.'

Day 7: Battled with the entire cobra series and wondered if my lack of flexibility on the back side of my body had a deeper meaning.

Today is day eight and I'm six hours away from my class. Not sure what will be in store for me, except I know I'll feel better having done it. A great birthday gift.

Happy Woof Year!

As the song goes, "you can't always get what you waaannt, but if you try sometime, you just might find, you get what you need..." As I was wandering on Facebook, my virtual favorite place to be these days, a dear friend and colleague, Carmen Cool (how cool is that name), who runs the Boulder Youth Body Alliance, an organization dedicated to creating generations of young women and leaders who feel good about themselves and their bodies, posted her Chinese New Year horoscope. I was excited to find out that mine would be just as cool as Carmen's, but when I got to mine, this is what I read:

"2009 will present the Dog with a number of challenges. Your patience will certainly be tested in more than one instance. You may not necessarily gain the notoriety you desire in your career, but certain advancement opportunities will surface throughout the year. You will find comfort with your family and solidify bonds that are necessary for your well being. You may have issues juggling your family life with your work schedule, but you will make great strides in both areas by the end of the year."

It's Monday and snowing, snowing hard and densely enough to make me turn around and work from home. This seems a perfect horoscope for me in 2009 because it is about staying power and that staying power being centered in myself. I especially love that I will find comfort with my family and will solidify bonds necessary to my well being. I've become a new dedicant to Bikram Yoga, 26 poses geared to solidifying (and melting) that well-being for 90 minutes in 90+ degrees.

I'm in this for the long run, as I just crossed the threshhold of my 50th year. Patience is good. Afterall, Mick Jagger is in his 60s and just hitting his stride.

The Worry of Now

Have I always been a worrier? I guess so, considering the state of my gut during junior high (that's what we called it way back when) and through most of my life. Have I ever been free of worry? I wish I could say that after 2.5 years studying at a contemplative graduate school, I'd been able to cast aside my worrisome side, but instead I became a writer. I've read some of Ekhart Tolle's theory on the Power of Now and while I agree, in theory, that to worry can be monumental waste of time, I find that worry can also be a great teacher. So I'd like to call my theory, the Worry of Now. And my theory has served as a slap of cold water in my face and gotten me very focused.

And right now, I'm very focused on making a different kind of life for myself and my family. After losing my second job in a year, I want to be free of the constant anxiety of keeping a roof over my family's head, the modest, but new car I worked so hard to make affordable payments on parked safely in front of my house, to be able to roam the grocery aisles without keeping a running tab in my head. I want to be able to spend a relaxed night with my spouse, without the ongoing subtitle of money running along side us. We're doing a great job holding it together during this time, but it's hard to relax and be in the Now when the Now is so filled with uncertainty. I don't know how this will all work out, but I do know I am ready to make some changes that put me much more in charge of my financial destiny.

What worry woke me up from an almost certain sleep? I woke up to check that the car payment had been received. It has. The money is in the bank and the check will most likely be cashed tomorrow. Blessings on the US postal service and Blessings on my new job that allowed me to make that payment on time.

As I sit in this space of Worry, in the very nowness of my worry, I wonder, how many other people out there are doing the same thing? How many other mothers are scouring 'consignment shops' for their growing children's clothing needs, reheating yesterday's coffee? Staring into space, talking to the unknown, asking the same question - how did I get here? How did we all get here?

Blessings on us all as we enter into this new phase of hope, even if it is circled with worry. Hoe is as constant as worry and for me, they often go hand in hand. I'm only human, right? I worry, therefore I am. Are you too?

I feel better. Thanks for listening.

The Homecoming Queen Mother

Being a mom is really like being homecoming queen every day of the year. And I wonder, since I was never anything close to a homecoming queen, what it would be like to be the most beautiful, the most popular girl in school every day of the year. Sort of would make you sick to your stomach, or other people sick to their stomachs. Sort of would make you want to vomit. And maybe want to vomit right on that homecoming queen's tafetta gown.

This is my way of saying that stomach flu season has hit our house. Or to be more correct, hit me. Friendly fire would be the best way to describe my role in this latest round. The origin of the title of this blog comes from the last time we, or I should say, I was visited upon by the ghost of vomit past with such a vengeance.

It started the day before school was to begin. I'd just served up three cups of hot chocolate and tiny marshmallows, the post-Sunday school bribe cashed in by all three girls. Twenty minutes later, one of the twins complained of a stomach ache and went in to take a nap. Five minutes later, tears and vomit. Thankfully, she made it to the waste basket. An hour later, not so lucky. The first case of being vomited on and 2009 was only three days old.

Two days later, oldest daughter sat next to me on the couch and complained of a stomach ache. Two times a lady.

The other twin has not displayed any signs of the stomach flu. But I've already sat her down and talked with her:

"Honey, if you feel like you have to throw up, it's okay. Your body is just trying to get rid of the yucky stuff."

She nodded at me while eating her third bowl of cereal.

"But do me a favor. If you feel like you have to throw up, find your father and throw up on him. I've already been thrown up on by both your sisters."

What followed only confirmed my position as the eternal homecoming queen of our family. Her eyes filled up with tears and she wailed:

"That's not fair. My sisters got to throw up on you! I want to throw up on you too!"

I guess it's never to late to claim my homecoming title. Time to shine my tiara.

Shock, Comfort and Sarah Palin

For the last two weeks, I've been scratching my head trying to figure out how a country could be seduced into the circus surrounding Sarah Palin. And I think I've got an answer. Shock and comfort. This is just my gut talking and I'll do the research later, but, my personal experience with trauma and shock is that when I'm feeling that way, I usually reach for something that represents comfort - a warm blanket, a baseball game, old episodes of the Mary Tyler Moore Show, red wine and dark chocolate. So what does a country do when it is suffering from prolonged trauma and shock? Return to what we know, or what we think we should know. Return to rhetoric, to the ideas that make us believe we are all going to be all right in this post-Bush/Cheney syndrome we are coming to the end of. To hell with policy, with truths, with what makes sense and is staring us in the face, that a hanging chad at the end of McCain/Palin will take us past reason, past caring, past any semblance of truth.

When we are made to be afraid of everything, then we cling to the things that will make us feel safe. Home, country, the Almighty. Rarely, when most of us are scared out of our bootstraps, do we ever reach for reason.

The real legacy of the Bush/Cheney octet is this - they have successfully created a country where a significant group of citizens are scared. On a daily basis. And not scared of monsters under the bed scared. Scared of basic things such as jobs, bills, health care, education, our planet's well being, security. I know because I'm one of them.

I recently had a heated conversation with a school mom about McCain/Palin and she launched into a talk about self-sufficiency, not expecting others to take care of you and I asked her a simple question - what is so bad about being a nation of people which cares about one another, which translates that care into conscious action that helps to better all of our lives? When did we become a country who cannot display care?

I look at Sarah Palin and I shake my head. I've waited my whole life to vote for a woman for executive office and this is the best we could do? I listen to her scorn and evasion and call herself a reformer and wonder, is this the best we can do? I watch John McCain fumble over words like 'fundamental,' strong' to describe the debacle our economy has become and I wonder, what happened to that war hero?

Is this John McCain the best John McCain can do?

Is this the best we can do?

Please pass me the chocolate.

Lessons Learned and More Balancing Acts

It's all about balance - which I'm desperately seeking at this point in my life. Family, work, life, me - how do we fit it all together into the same puzzle? The pendulum swings and boom, the tentative balance is disrupted. But maybe that's the point, that the balance has to always be upset in order for it to be re-calibrated, re-imagined. Balance seems at its center to be about flexibility and my life seems to require a great deal of it.

How about you? What does balance mean to you?