The Phoenix: Epicuriousmothering Rising

You know how all winter you dream about putting on shorts and light skirts and being able to walk outside with just a t-shirt on and feeling warm enough?  And then, in the summer as sweat rolls down you chest and back, you dream about putting on jeans and sweaters and actually feeling cold?   Well, it seems that fall has arrived and it's time to wear sweaters and jeans and jackets . . . but I can't believe it.  I know I'm going to get hot again, so I keep wearing my light weight shirts and pants or skirts.  I am an idiot.  Today, I had to sit in the car for 15 minutes with the heat blasting because . . .  I did not wear warm enough clothes. Note to self . . . GET THE WARM CLOTHES down like yesterday from the attic.   I haven't because I'm not ready!  It was in the 80s . . . and has gone straight to the 50s.  I need those beautiful 70s and 60s back! I have cute between clothes I've been waiting months to wear!  I kn...

I slept in my own bed with my pillow and my side of the bed. I woke up with someone to remind me to get out of bed. I ran in the cool 68 degree weather (with 48% humidity). I made waffles (my mama isn't eating flour) and Orange Julius (or sugar or juice). I kissed three beautiful cheeks and waved them off from the garage. I did yoga with my Lynsie and we solved the world and our own problems during sun salutations. I caught up with Christy while we hiked through the hills behind our houses. I had a croissant and egg sandwich from my favorite bakery. I took a long bath. Henry texted that he dreamed of babies. I called him and he said, I know what my first baby will look like. I said in ten years? He laughed and said, No. Sooner. I shook my head and thought, That boy.  But somehow it always works out.  I hope . . . I did laundry and kissed cheeks when they came home. And fell asleep on my unmade bed while Finnegan played the violin. A...

Piper picked these growing wild  . . . they made me think of Van Gogh . . . I'm heading off to spend a week with my mother on Saturday and both John and I are feeling the upcoming separation (I know, we've been married forever . . . why feel sad about being apart a week?  Because the first three years of our relationship, we were far away from each other--long distance relationships, BAD) so we let the kids watch a movie (a mid-week super treat) and went to dinner. And then walked around Provo reminiscing about our years of undergraduate and graduate school . . . and our year of courtship.  It's so odd that it all happened decades ago.  It seems, for real, like yesterday. We stopped at Phoebe's apartment to say, Hi.  Her roommates and friends and boyfriend were all there, eating late dinner, studying and laughing.  They seemed so young and busy and stressed but happy--typical college students.  I looked at them and thought, Wow, I can't even ...

Sometimes we get tired. I don't mean sleepy or exhausted, I mean tired.  Tired of your routine, your work outs, your house, your friends, your kids, your husband, your . . . (fill in the blank).  That's how I've been feeling lately.  Tired. I find myself getting into the car to go to the grocery store or anywhere and I fight the impulse to just keep on going.  California is calling my name . . . or forget that, Mexico is sending me love texts constantly.  And it's not because I don't love my people, I do.  I just . . . I just want to go . . . Last night as I sat by Phoebe who was studying away as I was about to climb into bed, I said, Hey, how are you? She usually just says fine and goes back to her studying, but last night, as I smoothed her hair away from her face, she looked up at me and sighed.  Mom, she said, I feel off.  Everything is blah.  I don't know what's wrong with me.  I don't like anything.  I smoothed her...

I read Anita Diamant's The Red Tent years and years ago and the story is now a bit hazy in my mind, but what isn't, is the images of all the biblical wives gathering in the red tent each month during their "unclean" period (ha ha) of the month. Since reading that book, not a month goes by when I don't think, I wish I had a red tent to escape to.  And now that I have daughters, I can really really see the need for a place to go because really, there is a moment or two (or ten) each month when you're just not fit for company. Oh, how well I know this. My dearest friend/sister Celeste, a women's health/midwife/professor of women's studies, told me that during our cycles, right before we cycle, we try to get our hearts and minds and body aligned.  Many months we don't even notice this because we are already in sync.  Some months we might feel a bit cranky or out of sorts, but it quickly resolves once we cycle.  And then sometimes we're all s...