Me in Melange

Day 4 - What's the equivalent of CPS in France?

It's not realistic to expect a 6 year old to walk 5 hours, jet lag tainting her brain, and the constant sugar ups and downs from all the French bakery items making her moods even more erradict.  So it was pretty much a given that Gia would have a tantrum or two. She had two, wait, make that three.  Every kid has their own version of a tantrum, hers involves yelling obsenities at the top of her lungs (and by obsenities she says things like "you are the WORST mommy in the world" and "I wish daddy was here instead of you".)  Can't remember exactly what sparked today's particular display, but it was loud, obnoxious, very anti-French, and I did the angry hissing between the teeth, rough arm grab, but it was barely veiled (and then it escalated to full blown yelling) and either the French WANTED to call their equivalent of CPS, or they wanted me to spank her hard right there.  Not sure which, hard to interpret international signs of disgust sometimes.  

Other than that, the day was good.  We walked to Notre Dame, but detoured to eat at this over priced crepe place on my map where a pancake with nutella was raised to a high ticket item.  We trolled around St. Germaine for a long time, bought locks for the Love Lock bridge and walked the bridge so each of the kids could leave their lock in a special place (one which they are convinced they will be able to find again).  

Jardin Tuilleries was next, where the kids played in the little "pay to play" structure area which was pretty cool....then we walked the grounds and decided it was very picnic worthy and we'd be back (when Gia was in a better mood and I wasn't about to get taken to parent jail).

We walked around Notre Dame, but the crowds were ridiculous (the French who live in Paris must abhor the tourists--unless they are directly making money from them).  I saw lots of shorts--eewwwww.  We then made our way back to our favorite foodie street, where we bought all kinds of yummy food which we couldn't wait to get home to eat.

I promptly poured myself an enormous glass of wine, because within 3 minutes of walking into the apartment, after 5 1/2 straight hours of visual stimulation, yummy eats and treats, and seeing an overflowing handful of very cool Paris spots, the kids brought in our groceries, turned to me and said, "what are we doing tomorrow?"    They are insatiable.  

I had a Nutella crepe, chocolate croissant, loads of cheese, baguette, cherries, olives and enough salami to  cure myself.  I wonder how a gluten free person would survive here?  It might actually be illegal to be gluten free in France.  Right now Romeo is throwing a massive crying jag because the masking VPN on the ipad allowing him to stream Amazon/Netflix isn't working (this is a handy trick if you ever want to use these two things abroad where you normally can't).  I'm zen like a cat though, and half way thru my glass of wine....

Signed, ME {lv}

p.s.  Did you see how fabulous those royal blue shoes were?  I want those.

Miss Melange Out and About

 

We can't get enough of the Velvet Fara Top! A navy-striped linen that feels as breezy-cool as it looks! To model this beautiful piece we have Mademoiselle Melange who is running errands in the city. She looks pretty fabulous in her Velvet Fara Top, Henry and Belle jeans and Tumbleweed earrings! A beautiful fit that flatters everyone! 

Day 3 - Paris Feet-a-Achin'

OK, I officially have walked 500 miles, in my own shoes.  Let's see....successes of the day:  We took the metro to the Eilffel Tower so Lucia could see it (no going up in it yet, we are going to have dinner at the restaurant later with John and friends).  So with my new trusty Metro App I navigated the short ride (sort of proud of myself for that one, I was out of practice with the subway system--ANY subway system).  Then we walked, and walked, and walked.  

There are so many beautiful things to see, everywhere you look there are incredible buildings and architecture.  I've seen it all before, but I'm awed all over again.  The kids were appropriately amazed too.  Romeo was in a stroller (it's amazing how FEW people are walking the city with a stroller....I felt out of place.)  My only other option was the Ergo pack, but that officially might be too "ugly" for Paris.  I can almost see the disgust of the French women as I clomp around Paris with an Ergo pack, sweating like a man--not a delicate sight.  The other kids, to their credit, didn't complain more than I wanted to complain.  Lucia had her "practical" tennis shoes on, but still had achy feet.  At one point Gia was bouncing around and tripped on the stroller and skinned her arm badly.  She's a drama queen (plus it did look like it hurt), so that took up about an hour of looking for a Pharmacy and quashing the fears of people walking by us who thought she was "actually" dying by the sounds of her cries.  

So we made our way back home from the Eiffel Tower area on foot, along the Seine.  The small picture of the people playing along the river was snapped because they have this game that reminded me of that handball game we had as kids--with the metal pole with the string and the big volleyball at the end, and you basically hit it back and forth.  More often than not you got smacked in the face and the whole thing was a lawsuit waiting to happen because the string wrapping around the metal pole could also wrap nicely around you neck (but they were popular back when people didn't sue for things like hot coffee).  Anyway, they have this game in the public park areas along the river, BUT the balls are little teeny things, and you hit them back and forth with paddles--essentially it's ping-pong on a string.  MUCH more civilized.

The ballerina windows were a delight..it was store filled with flats of every color under the rainbow.  I wanted to go in, but didn't dare.  Having the kids here is saving me all kinds of money--even when I really, REALLY want something I see in the window, I dare not take all 4 kids into these boutiques to potentially search and destroy all things perfect.

The motivation at the end of the trip was a walk down Rue Montorgueil which is filled with every kind of food delight possible.  Chocolates, pastries, meats, cheeses, fresh fruit stands everywhere.  It's awesome.  We stopped for Stohler gellato, which was a treat because 4 cones practically required a second mortgage (as do most things in Paris).  Romeo promptly dropped his 4 minutes later.  He also decided it would be funny to throw his sunglasses into the recycle trash can at the street corner---which locks and is an "in" only can.  That was a 10 minute crying jag right there as he realized that his funny joke wasn't going to turn out so great since his glasses were lost forever.  

I'm starting to think having a small apartment is the way to go.  950 square feet is big by Paris standards, and I was worried we'd all be on top of each other, BUT the beautiful thing is that it's terribly simple.  Cleaning it up is easy, you never have to wonder where anyone is, and you learn to live without extraneous stuff.  My wine tasted just as good without being opened with an electric opener, airated and poured into a fancy glass, and there's no vacumn sealing the bottle (I'll just have to drink it faster). :-)

Kids have already asked me 100 times "what are we doing tomorrow"....big sigh.  So much to do, so much pressure to do it right :-).

Signed, LV {lv}

 

Day 2 (Kung Fu Camembert)

The day really started at 11:30 p.m., LAST NIGHT.  That’s when my two espressos the late afternoon before kicked in (I fell asleep ok, but then had the jitters later—couple that with the jet lag).  It took me two tries before I realized that a “café” when ordering is really a put-hair-on-your-chest espresso with a big lump of sugar.     I’m out of practice on the euro-lingo.

 So between 11:30 p.m and about 12:30 a.m. I snuck in some work, but I was testing fate by having the glow of the computer in the same room as the two little ones, and at around 12:30 a.m. Gia woke up and shortly thereafter, Romeo.  Then proceeded the long 2.5 hours of middle of the night jet lag torture.  Romeo was hungry after about 20 minutes of being up--which is understandable (I was actually starving).  All we had in the apartment was the $18 brie rondelle pizza we bought waiting for our landlord, and a bag full of baby carrots (don’t get excited—the bag of carrots was the leftover “reject” airplane snack….no sane person chooses carrots when there are sweeter and saltier things to grab).  So Ro grabs the last big slice of pizza and munches away while I watch him, figuring I’ll grab the leftovers (I think the French cut the pizza into 4 enormous slices to avoid anyone thinking you might actually pick it up with your hands).  He devours ½ of it, and then in the 2 seconds when I turn my head to look at the shadow behind me, he chucks the remaining half  into the garbage.  The horror!!  I almost fished it out, but decided against it.  Then Romeo decided he was going to eat carrots, and brought the bag into the bedroom where he lay down beside me and ate them one by one.  I have never ventured to guess, but I have to say at this point there couldn’t possibly be less then 400 thousand carrots in those bags, because that’s what it felt like.  Chomp, chomp, crunch, crunch., chomp.  I tried to go yogi and think of it as a meditation, but I couldn’t do it.  Finally at 3:45’ish we all fell asleep.

 The day itself started around 10:00 a.m. when I forced the kids to start moving…which wasn’t easy, they all could have slept until mid-afternoon.  We then proceeded to make several big circles in our general area (2^nd. Arrondisment) looking for the market area so we could buy fresh fruit, croissants, and goodies for lunch.

Eventually, after  much moaning and groaning about my lack of google map expertise, we got there.  We bought yummy salami (I’ll go back to being a vegetarian after this trip), Camembert cheese, olives…fruit.  It was very French.  Then we hit the French equivalent of Target, and just like Target in the states, I could have walked in there for toilet paper and walked out with $300 of crap I didn’t need.  It was even worse here because not only was it crap I didn’t need, it was FRENCH crap I didn’t need, which was inherently cooler. 

There was loads of complaining at the fact we weren’t taking taxi’s everywhere, and Lucia spent a solid hour complaining that her sandals were uncomfortable (and no, the tennis shoes she brought wouldn’t work because they didn’t “match her outfit” apparently).   We did make it home though and the picture of the plate of food was our lunch….and that Camembert seriously kicked my stomach’s ass.  It was Kung Fu Camembert in my stomach.  I need to acclimate my stomach to the rich cheese diet ASAP, I need a Frenchie gullet, the conditioning starts NOW.

 On the way home I noticed this window of the all white outfit with a dash of color with the long necklace….love that look, and it is my Paris look of the week for sure.   Stay tuned, for the As-in-Paris dealio!

 This afternoon we walked to the Jardin du Palais Royale….nice little park where Romeo kicked his newly purchased ball and we played (and by “we” I mean the kids---I sat on the bench and nursed my cheese stomach) before the rainstorm.  On the way home I broke my “no alcohol when I’m a solo parent rule” and bought a bottle of Rose (it’s so light, it’s barely alcohol right?) and we made it home safe and sound.

Things to note.  The men ARE better looking here.  They also wear their blazer collars up against the wind and look cool doing it, JUST like those postcards always show.  The French macaroon is divinity.  I had two today and wish I had bought more to bring home.  Jet lag can make your 3 year old turn into a demon child who crunches carrots at 2:00 a.m.

 Signed, ME {lv}

Day 1-Taking Paris On (slowly)!

We are here and officially exhausted at the end of Day One!  It was a piece of cake plane ride, kids were great, and it's always a crap shoot really...I've been on flights where the kids were so bad people literally wanted to jump OUT of the plane half way thru and take their chances, but this time they were all really great.  Air France is my favorite airline, they serve decent food, they make a big effort with the kids (look at that first picture, it's one of the many little kid gifts they passed out--very Melange-y), and they had a great big new airplane that was pretty darn nice.

We navigated thru CDG, customs, and getting a Roissybus to central Paris without any issue at all AND I got my Sim card to work (cellularabroad.com was a great place to pre-purchase a French Sim card).  The apartment is great...love the view from the windows (ironworks everywhere), and there is gilded detailing in th eliving room that I just love.  Only downside is I'm going to literally have to start doing wash right now because the washing machine is big enough to fit a towel and pair of underwear--and that might be a stretch.

It's 7:39 pm Paris time and I'm about ready to pass out.  Gia is already gone, Lucia is about to go down, Ava will hold out until the last minute, and Romeo is acting like he has way too much energy to sleep.  Crazy.   I have just spell checked this entry and it's got some autrocious spelling errors that I just fixed....I'm going to to hope that's because I'm so tired and not just because somehow I got dumber.

Can't wait to hit this city tomorrow though....so much to check out and share!

See you tomorrow, I'm going to succumb to the fatigue.

Signed, ME {lv}

Snafu et Snafu.

I'm just a couple of days from being "done"--on the plane and hopefully organized and ready for action.  Today was the last day of school for the kids, and I of course realized that I had forgotten to get teacher gifts.  Not so much forgotten, as never came up with a good idea and then procrastinated until the 11th hour. So I did a super fast brainstorm and came up with pedicure gift certificates for 5 of them, and restaurant gift certificates for 2 others.  I had seen a really cute nail place downtown (never actually used it myself but it was centrally located, and I remember it being really cute).  So, I'm in a rush...I park the car, rush across the street and start walking down the block because I'm guesstimating exactly where I had seen it.  I see the name of a nail place and rush into the door thinking I had found it.  By the time I opened and shut the door I realized THIS was not the nail place I had thought.  I was assaulted by the super intense chemical smell, and since this place was super small (and there was just one technician and one client in there), the smell had nowhere to go.  It was horrible, and I jokingly said, "you guys must be getting a little chemical high in here", ha, ha.  I got a blank stare, literally neither cracked a smile AT ALL, and the lady giving the mannecure said, "it's acrylic". As if anything natural could smell that toxic.

So by this time I'm trying to figure out how to back out gracefully and I ask about whether they do gift certificates.  The lady is looking at me like she's never heard of a gift certificate and because I'm so uncomfortable I start talking MORE.  I am chattering on about I don't even know what, but nothing even worthy of remembering, or maybe I don't remember because the entire time my mouth was moving I was wondering how I could gracefully back out of this toxic closet with these two women starring at me.  Well, I got my out, albeit not very gracefully.  As I was standing there chatting, I feel this slimy thing on my ankle, and this little "slither" and tickle feeling, and out of complete instinct I kicked my leg out (because of course I wanted to shake off the python crawling up my leg).  Turns out, it wasn't a python, shocker.  It was a tiny, furry dog, that had literally come out of NOWHERE, stealth style, and that doggy went flying when I kicked my leg out.  Don't worry, he was ok, but I got the death ray stare from the two ladies and they didn't need to say a thing, because their horrified look said, "get out now, get out quick, or we WILL call the police and report you for animal abuse".

I left that nail shop, walked down the street and found the nail shop I had seen on my drives by---the cute one with girly chandeliers and luxury seats.  Pedicure gift certificates, check.

My other snafu today....well, it finally dawned on me to check the temperature/weather in Paris.  Turns out it's suppose to be 64 degrees and rainy on Monday.  Now I need to move over all the hot weather dresses and my new gold leather flip flops---I need room for some warmer stuff because Paris in early June, not necessarily all that nice weather-wise.  By the time we make our way down to Avignon the weather will be hot, but it's looking like long sleeves in Paris.    Wish I had thought to do a little more temp investigation last week, when I was doing most of the packing.  

The only other thing I'm bummed about are the cute things coming in that I now don't have the time to get for my trip.  The Khush that came today is darling, personaly love this tunic, wouldn't it be cute with Prairie capri denim leggings and my gold flip flops?   

SIGNED, ME {lv}

City of Roses

“Some people grumble that roses have thorns; I am grateful that thorns have roses.” -- Alphonse Karr

Teeth & Paris Packing!

We (kids and I) are leaving for Paris on May 26th.....that's basically a week away, so I'm in pack-prep mode and because I'm probably only a few symptoms away from a clinical diagnosis of OCD, I'm not only packing, but going thru my entire house in a frenzied "organization" pre-departure, I-can’t-leave-disorganized-mode.  So, this leads me to teeth.  I spent some time today organizing my drawers in my room, simultaneously packing, and  in the process came across baggie upon baggie of individual baby teeth...dropped off by the "tooth fairy" after Ava, Lucia or Gia left it sweetly under their pillow.   Truth is,  I think teeth in baggies is sort of inherently gross---and even teeny tiny teeth of my own offspring doesn't really get anything going for me emotionally—it’s still just a tooth, which out of the body is a lot less cute then in the body and I can’t help but think of dead things when I see solo out of the body teeth (too many episode of Law & Order/CSI—someone is always getting identified by their teeth and it's never good).  I saved all these teeth , but if I’m being honest, the only reason I did was GUILT.  Guilt that I would be throwing away something of my kids--and not just recycling artwork, but something concrete, from their little bodies that I can’t get back again (unlike artwork which just keeps coming and coming….and coming).  So I keep throwing these little baggies into my drawer and by now I probably have at least 10 or more.  Of course I wasn't organized enough to actually write any names on these teeth, so they are nameless little nubs.  Except for one, that's the one with Ava's writing on the outside of the zip lock baggie pleading with the Tooth Fairy to "please, please, PLEASE not forget again because I am tired of waiting".  I can still remember the terror on day TWO when I had forgot again and waking up to Ava shaking me and saying "the tooth fairy just doesn't care"---ugh, I knew it had been a mistake not to do the tooth swap out BEFORE I had that second glass of wine.   

The upshot of all this teeth talk, is I think I'm going to toss these little nameless teeth, maybe bury them under a tree, and say a special tooth wish for each kid when I do it.  The alternative would be to hold on to them for another 25-35 years, and then pawn them back off to the kids as "keepsakes" and pretend I have a clue whose tooth belongs to who.  You know what they will say?  The same thing I told my mom when she gave me my baby teeth, "Eeewwww, gross".   Needless to say, I've been purging a lot this past week--packing makes me do that and I have to say, it feels pre-tttttty darn good.

On to the more important part of this post, I’m packing for Paris!  Not that easy, let me tell you.  The Paris trip in my mind involves lots more sultry late dinners and snappy dressing with impractical shoes.  Reality might be somewhat different.  I envision myself dressed in airy white linen with dark shades and a big sunhat , sitting in a café along the Seine on a perfect mild day, sipping a café, au lait eating a big chocolate croissant (I plan on eating a LOT of these), and watching the street artists doing watercolors while a violinist plays on the street corner.  Then I realize that Romeo will be trying to run into the street chasing a pigeon, Ava will be begging to go to Paris Disneyland, Lucia will have jet lag and want to sleep at 2:00 pm.., Gia will probably have touched me all over my white outfit with her chocolate croissant fingers, and I’ll be sweating like a man because it’ll be 90 degrees.  Still, it’s going to be fun, it’s PARIS afterall!!   I still plan on taking lots of white and some impractical shoes.  Things I picked up for my trip that I’m excited about:

* big earphones (not those earbuds, those things hurt your ears after awhile and I plan on zoning out to some movies on the plane).

*I bought us all compressible travel pillows—the kind that fluffs into almost a full size pillow but rolls up into a little oversized sausage.  I hate sleeping on any pillow that isn’t mine (i.e. no drool from anyone but me).  I don’t care how nice the accomodations, it’s still not YOUR pillow.  My husband thinks I’m crazy and I heard endless “I can’t BELIEVE you are filling up packing space with those”.   We're going to be on an overnight ferry from Toulon to Corsica--a FERRY--that room is NOT going to be "sleep on the pillow provided" worthy, that much I know.

*I bought a Travelon cross the body bag that is sporty but not as hideous as some travel bags—and the notorious Parisian pick-pockets can’t get in while I’m distracted with the kids because it’s got a slash proof strap and body.  Brilliant.  Figured it would be good for walking the Paris flea market and amazing food markets where there are 5 million people and potential pick-pocket situations.

*The book “Wool”.  Because the cute guy at the bookstore said it was really, REALLY good (and he was really cute).

What I know I’m NOT taking.  Shorts.  Well, maybe one pair for when I’m in Corsica.  You shouldn’t wear shorts in Paris.  You can, but shouldn’t.    Of course I’ve seen it done fashionably, but I’ve also seen way too many Americans abroad in shorts, Teva’s (useful but so darn ugly), and fanny packs.  That’s an embarrassing look for America.  We owe it to our country to dress better than that when traveling.   I’ll try to do my country proud, or at least not embarrass us too badly.  Shorts are too casual for Paris, and since I can't rock them with mega long legs, heels and a shrunken blazer, I'm just going to avoid them altogether.

I’m going to inundate the blog with pictures and travel updates daily, so stay tuned. 

Signed, ME {lv}

Walking the dog in easy style!

We like to see our clothes in different places, on different people, and at all kinds of events and activities! Since we can't always get a photo we thought a watercolor might do! Here is Miss Melange out for a stroll with her buddy. She's wearing PJ Salvage's Zig Zag Tunic, Henry and Belle skinny jeans, and the green gold charm suede bracelet from Bronwen.

Her outfit is picture perfect because the jeans are comfortable, sexy and versatile enough to wear anywhere from the dog park to shopping to lunch at a friend's house. The top is one of our favorites with its easy drape and beautiful print! We love a casual outfit that looks effortlessly pulled-together. And did we mention comfort? This one's got it all! 

 

The Hands-Off Approach

In honor of Mother's Day on this day-after-Mother's Day, I am writing about my daughter. Actually, I am writing more about my motherhood, which just naturally incudes her. She is 16 years old, tall, beautiful and powerful. So powerful in fact that I am often overwhelmed by it.

The forces of feminine adolescence I remember very well. I too, at 16 years old was filled with impulses I could not control. I needed to talk ALL THE TIME, to my girlfriends, to my new guy friends, to anyone! I felt so much emotion that could turn on a dime if a different song came on the radio, or if I just switched modes internally, which I did when I wanted, and when I didn't. I was also oblvious, at 16 to the way the world really worked. I lived in a teenage bubble, which didn't feel teenage to me at all. It felt real, and solid. I couldn't understand why my parents weren't more aware of it, too. They were so immersed in their own world they didn't even notice mine, I thought.

My daughter is exactly the same as I used to be. I can see it and feel it and hear it coming out of her room -- which I stay out of. Like my parents I don't get too intimately involved with her life. I am certainly there for her when she needs me, but she doesn't need me very often. My daughter has exerted her independance from us since she was 13 years old. She has made it quite clear that although she likes us to cook for her, give her money and drive her places she prefers us to stay out of her personal life. And I understand. I miss that little pook she used to be that snuggled with me and gave me home made cards, but I sympathize with the teenage lady she has become. She has so much to do, and to say, and to say her own way. It literally explodes out of her in both exuberance and rage. She is steering her own boat on the rough ocean of life. And I'm like a bouy, something to grab onto in a storm....well,....something like that. So, ironically on Mother's Day, I am celebrating the hands-off approach to mothering a teen girl. IT may not be for everyone, but it's working for us. Love to all of the mothers AND the daughters out there! xoxoxoxo DR

Vintage California

This is a fun 15-minute flashback to the carefree California beach style in the early 1960's.

"Mother and her friends might be discussing the events of the day, but I'll bet they're talking about fashion." -- Hilarious! And can someone explain the concept of a "Shaggy dog gabardine"? Sounds fun to me! 

Make Every Day Beautiful!

 

We love it when style is effortless. I'm always on the lookout for pieces that are easy, beautiful, AND comfortable so that no matter what I am doing, I can be at least presentable. I used to think I could get away with doing certain things in unattractive, "comfortable" clothing. But no more. I discovered the hard way that it isn't worth hanging on to those old clothes.. Let's face it: no matter how comfy they are, nobody wants to run into an old flame, or an old boss at the grocery store in their frumpiest clothes. 

The last straw for me was at the grocery store where I had just run to get some juice. I had been organizing closets at home and decided to dash out wearing the sweatpants and old tee shirt I had worn all morning. I thought to myself, "it's fine, I'll be right back sipping that juice before anyone sees me" As I'm sure you can guess, I was wrong. I was so very wrong!

At the store I not only did NOT get out before anyone saw me, I ran into an old employer, my husband's friend and his wife, a teacher from my child's kindergarten and none other than Bobby Bollinger -- an old Jr. High School crush!!! And I looked like a total slob! 

I finished chatting with everyone and headed out to the car, only to glance in the rear view mirror and groan. Hair: crazy looking. Clothes: dumpy and dirty. Face: this morning's mascara was actually running down my cheek! In short, I was a mess. I gathered my dignity and made a pact with myself right then and there. As long as I was organizing the closets I would simply ELIMINATE all things even remotely frumpy from my wardrobe. If it's not there, I can't wear it.

And it worked!!! Now, for even the dirtiest jobs I only have things that I actually like on hand to chose from. Pretty tees (refreshed every year or two), seveal pairs of good-fitting jeans in different washes, un-pilled cardigans, un-stretched-out hoodies, and cute comfy shoes.

Here is an example of a perfectly pretty pink ensemble to grab and go to the store in, or to run errands in, or to meet a gal pal in. Velvet's beautiful Corky V-Neck tee, Henry and Belle's beautiful skinny ankle jeans, and Mangrove's silk Sophia Scarf.  

It's actually very easy to look pulled-together, no matter what you're up to, the key is simply GETTING RID OF unflattering or stained pieces. It's amazing what we'll reach for if it's in our closet. Be ruthless, toss anything you haven't worn in a year and anything that is worn, or stretched, or stained. And just think! After step number one comes the very enjoyable STEP NUMBER TWO: replace the eliminated items with fresh things that ARE flattering, versatile, comfortalbe AND cute! 

This beuatiful look fits the bill. It's sexy, but appropriate, pretty, but not fussy. It's laid back and easy and so comfortable! Ahhh, effortless.

The next time I run to the store, the gas station, the movie store, or anywhere else for that matter, I'll be ready to run into anyone, including Bobby Bollinger!    love, DR 

Sweet Mammas

I just finished getting my emotional beating for the day.  I spent countless hours debating whether we should continue Ava in piano (she's played off and on for years, and still is only so-so), and then even more time wasted pondering the exact words of the email to send to her teacher giving her notice that we were stopping.  Then of course there were the back and forth emails, during which I was emotionally racked over the coals by her with guilt inducing phrases like "my mother let me quit for awhile and it's the only thing I really blame her for".  That's right, I'm being hit with the collective guilt that most mother's are hit with all too often.  Should I do more, everyone else seems to be?  If I don't stick with this will my kid be the only one left behind.   If I don't do this will my kid end up homeless or working night shifts at a gas station?   Am I depriving my child of the golden opportunity that will make all the difference?  I have no idea if allowing Ava to stop piano is right or not.  I know music is a universal language and one of great beauty...didn't actually need to be reminded of that once again by her teacher, but at some point you get tired of pushing your kids in all these directions "you" think are right.  The laundry list of things you are "suppose" to do has grown so darn long.  Who the heck knows anyway?  I'm sure the Tiger Mom would disagree with me, but I just wonder how much we (mother's in general) can take on our shoulders -- how much guilt for not living up to the laundry list should we take on, and how much we can really worry that every decision will make or break our child's success in life.  

In the end, I hope my kids are open to love in every way, have their priorities straight, are intelligent in a well rounded way, and stand up for themselves and those who can't stand.  That's pretty much it.  I would love them to be fluent in the language of music, speak multiple languages, get straight A's, play a varsity sport, and win a spelling contest or two....but I also know that I didn't do any of those things, and I'm pretty darn happy.  So I'm giving myself a break this Mother's Day and I hope all you other mammas do the same.   I'm going to let myself be ok with doing the best I can, and I'll remind myself that in the end, it will be ok.  Suck it piano teacher :-).

Sweet Mamma promo starts tomorrow...watch for the email with details (but I'll sneak you the code first:  SWEETMAMMA gets you 30% off any purchase of $100 or more!  Hard Tail sportswear arrives later today and it's definitely on my retail therapy list!!

Signed, ME {lv}

Spring Flowers

My goodness it is positively RADIANT out there!!! You never know if an Oregon Spring is going to be wet, wild and freezing, or the perfect combination of rain showers and strong sunshine. Happily this year has been the latter, and between the sudden downpours, quick hail storms, beaming sun breaks and two really hot days, the flowers are in FULL FLOWER POWER! They scent the air and stain your shirt with pollen if you walk too close. The bees are buzzing and the birds are a little bit psycho in their twittering joy. Ahhh, the goodness of a warm Oregon spring cannot be overstated. And, as an extra vision of beauty and cuteness, here is a vintage easter decoration I got from my grandmother, years ago Sweet! Happy Friday!