The Phoenix: Epicuriousmothering Rising

About five weeks after I wrote the last post (in July 2015), John went into work and found out that the new management company had decided that they could no longer work with John (and if you know John even a tiny bit, you as we did, find this a bit confusing . . . but nevertheless) and so, they asked that he step down from Vice President of Legal Affairs and Vice President in Training (I added that). Pretty much crap news all around. For many many reasons, but the biggest one is that he sort of kind of loved his job.  Not working, but who he was working with and he was kicking serious butt.  I mean it.  He got a promotion and a big old raise in June (yep, two months prior to the kick out) and he was honestly thriving.  I've never in my 20 plus years of being married (and we're not counting the four years of dating here) of knowing him, seen him so good.  Calm.  Smart.  Self assured and confident.  And good at what he does/did. So then why o...

I was lying on hammock tonight, big heavy clouds over head, the wind blowing through the trees above my head and the grass under my foot as I pushed myself.  I thought, This is happiness. I am full, but not too full.  I am warm, but not hot.  All my people are home and around me and everyone is, if not perfectly happy, they are calm.  I have clean windows (thank you random window cleaning men). A cleanish house.  I have had hours with my kids at the pool (perhaps for the last time in a long time) and hold the title of walking the longest underwater on my hand record. Yes.  A happy husband (a thing to be treasured).  A quiet evening.  A moment to just sit and be still. Yes. This. Is. Happiness. I feel the blessing of this like a comforting weight around my shoulders.  I know so well what it is like to feel the absence of happiness.  I know what it is like to feel fear, worry, hurt, sorrow, pain, anguish, regret, and anger. ...

I love summer evenings with thunder clouds rumbling in the distance, brining fresh cool mountain air and relief from the heat. I love tan feet. I love O Hello Pandora station. I love fresh baked crusty bread with nuts and white chocolate and challah bread with sugar sprinkled over top and crusty baguette and fresh cold water and grapes and good cheese. I love the smell of Finnegan's neck when he nuzzles into me. I love how strong Henry is and how he gets quiet when he knows I'm telling him something that means so much to me it hurts to tell it. I love surprises that I don't think I love at first. I love Phoebe's laugh when she's laughing at herself. I love Celia talking about the books she reading . . . I love that she reads.  Miracles, it turns out, happen. I love Piper's constant handling of her hamster.  CONSTANT HANDLING. I love John. I love that love evolves and is at times rather pocky and so real it scares you and so soft and gentle ...

So I think I did a fantastic job of going over the sour moments of my summer, but I did't quite get to the sweet.  And really, the reason we like Sour Patch Kids is that after the lemon lips we pull, there is a delicious chewy sweetness that has us going back for more.  Now onto the sweet . . . And you know me . . . pictures do speak a thousand words. Girls Camp: Yep, I get weepy even thinking about it, the kind of weepy that makes you feel alive and whole and blessed.  I loved every beautiful, amazing minute of it! Running in the early morning with the dozens and dozens of deer watching me as I passed; seeing a mouse perfectly outlined on top of aptly named Moose Hill; listening of the Brave Moments of my friends and brave young women; eating fresh hot donuts in the wild wind; and most of all sitting in the sun laughing and chatting for hours on end with wise, kind, gentle, hysterical, insightful women.  Best Girls Camp EVER (yes, I say that every year). Eve...

I have eight stitches suturing my skin together where they've taken out a large piece of bone that's gone crazy above my right big toe.   I feel it stretch and pinch whenever I move my foot and at odd moments it itches like crazy.  It makes it impossible for me to move faster than a worried snail pace at any given moment. It creates this insane electrical pulses that tell me to STOP MOVING THAT WAY this INSTANT and I obey. I find I do not like stitches.   But my life, the last 39 1/2 years, have prepared me for this surgery.  For these stitches.  For this week where I am happy when I can sleep with out three pillows and a five pound boot compressing my leg from the knee down.  For the ability to walk to the bathroom without someone holding onto me from the dizziness of the medication.  For this week of love and sleep and time to stop and stare out the window for hours on end.   I think I may have just had the very worst and the very best s...

Today was a good day. Not because of anything that happened (or didn't happened), but because for the first time in four years of having a crazy schedule every day, I decided to NOT plan on anything going according to plan.  And when it didn't (as it always does), I just thought, Oh, I knew that was going to happen and shrugged and went on wondering what new twist my day would take.  In fact, it was sort of like fighting the ripe-tide, a super duper exhausting endeavor when really, the tide is going to pull you out and then, a few hundred yard (or miles) it will sweep you back in again.  Just sit back and enjoy the tug of powers way greater than you and trust that at some point, you'll get your bearings again. Well, it turns out, it was a pretty great ride.  Nothing like I thought.  I got what I absolutely needed to get done (birthday gifts to special friends and dinner made and kids to their various activities).  No cleaning. No errands.  No readi...