The Phoenix: Epicuriousmothering Rising

I made a cake, a perfect, light fluffy, rich, beautiful vanilla sheet cake from my mother-in-laws chocolate sheet cake recipe (that I've de-chocolated) for my family a few nights ago.  I set it outside to cool and in fact, if froze and in other fact, I forgot about it until it was far too late to eat.  I woke up the next morning looking at that cake thinking, Grrr.  The whole point was that it was supposed to be dessert for my family and guests . . . it was supposed to make us all happy and my nephew and his girlfriend and my sister to all feel special and loved and all the good things special desserts make us feel.  Only, I forgot about it.  And none of that happened.  It was morning.  The cake was not even frosted and I had a meeting to go to and my nephew was leaving soon.  It was breakfast time.  And so what did I do? I frosted that baby.  Took it to my morning meeting and cut it into wide pieces and served it, instead of the...

  . . . I haven't written in months, I'm a little/lot rusty.  I had these three goal the last year or so 1) to talk less and listen more; 2) to say "yes" as often as possible and with a willing heart; and 3) to laugh . . . at things that are funny, or not funny but need to be laughed at or you'll cry and most of all at myself. Turns out, these things that I've been working on, my massive weaknesses . . . well, they've changed my life, my marriage, my status as awesomest mom in the world, and upped my friend value (I hope . . .). Most of all, though . . . they've made me see, hear, and feel so much more joy than I'd thought I could.  As well as a healthy dose of guilt for all the times I haven't listened, said 'yes' or laughed and let go.  But I'm a firm believer in guilt being the great impetus for change and inspiration . . . and I'm telling you, I'm INSPIRED!   Working on this stuff . . . and listening and...

I grew up in the backwoods (literally) of Connecticut (so a sort of well educated backwoods). My grandmother and aunts had goats.  We had chickens.  We all had dogs and cats that wondered around at will and in the summer, my house was surrounded by trees so thick you couldn't see anything but green when you looked out the windows.  But when I was very young, I guess we didn't look out the windows much at all.  Mostly, I guess, we just sat in our basement and watched TV. My dad in a fit of passion (I can so relate to him), literally picked up the TV and threw it out the door.  He did not, it turns out, like how we didn't do anything but watch the BOOB TUBE as he called it. Did this totally stop us? I'm afraid not. This meant we all went down to our grandmother's as a result on Friday nights to watch Fantasy Island and Dukes of Hazard and The Hulk. We all squished on the two recliners and sprawled on the floor to watch her tiny 13" TV with at best mon...

I just finished two TED talks about strangers.  The first talked about how much we benefit from actually making eye contact, having a conversation, and actually being vulnerable with them is to our minds, hearts, and souls.  The second was about altruistic people and what makes someone altruistic . . . and can altruism be learned? As I was chopping away at my flower patch that is not mostly just taken over by Black-Eyed Susans, I thought about strangers and what I was taught about stranger and how I feel about them now. Here is before . . . And here is after . . .  I know, it's hard to tell, but if you look really hard you can . . . I promise . . . at least I hope . . . But back to strangers.  As I was listening I immediately thought of this super long flight I was on from Calgary to Connecticut (honestly, like about as far apart as you can get).  I was 7 3/4 months pregnant with Finnegan flying out to go to my grandmother's funer...

What I miss the very mostest about being young is that ability to forget everything but the very moment you are in. If you are tired, you sleep. If you are hungry, you eat. If you want to read, you pick up a book and read. If you want to watch a movie/show/tv, you sit your little butt down and watch. If you're a mama, you have to think about nine thousand things before you do anything. If you are tired, you stay tired because you just don't have time to sleep. If you are hungry, you'd better go grocery shopping and get cooking because no one is really going to eat if you don't. If you want to read . . . well, you always want to read, but the laundry, cleaning, weeding, talking, caring, fixing, loving must happen before that happens. If you want to watch a movie, well, you can try, but really, you probably will just fall asleep. And be so happy for that sleep because you know, if you're me and you only watch tv with your whole family surrounding y...

For the last three days, I've felt like my life is enchanted. The weather has been stormy and calm, cloudy and full of sunshine and it seems to match my moods perfectly. I've honestly found myself thinking, Yes, God, finally I get weather to match me!  Thank you!  (Because, of course everything is about ME). The children are all happy. I am sleeping like a new born baby. I have time to both read AND visit and the people I want to be with have time to be with me and it's worked out. I'm not so worried about schedules or getting places or things done.  Mostly, I'm just happy letting life flow around me and letting what is, is. I've had energy to work out and don't feel too exhausted afterwards--in fact often, I find I have more energy than before. When I've gone to do my six errands in one hour, I've gotten every. single. one. done. Unheard of. And I was happy doing it.  Honestly, didn't run into one line that sidelined me. I...

While I was running in the pouring rain today, I kept thinking about writing.  In fact, when it was pouring pouring pouring and the temperature dropped like 10 degrees and I started losing feeling in my fingers, I began writing this post in my mind.  It was really really good.  I laughed and cried and thought Gees, you're such a great writer Mary! (Yes, I can in fact fool myself).  Only now . . . I can't really remember much I wrote in my mind.  Darn mind.  Speaking of minds, May turns mine to mush.  Between allergies (thank you beautiful budding trees . . . I lovingly Hate You) and the insane end of year recitals and school demands, I can't keep anything straight.  Everything is going sideways and I'm barely holding on.  I honestly think every single May, I am officially going crazy.  Then school ends, June comes cool and calm and there aren't really any demands and I get to remember how to breath. No joke, I actually honestly get s...