Some Friendships Are Hard To Put Into Words

I spent this past weekend holed up in a condominium in Breckenridge with four of my best friends in the world. I say "holed up", because we pretty much never left. We checked in on Friday, proceeded to put on our comfy clothes and some good music, and hunkered down for an entire weekend of food, wine, laughter and tears. To say that I was looking forward to this weekend is an understatement. We figured out that it had been many many years since the five of us had been able to spend girls-only time together; probably around 12 years - which is how old the oldest of our children is. Ah, the luxury of uninterrupted girl talk!

And talk we did. You would think that we might run out of things to discuss after staying up until 3am three nights in a row, but we never did. In fact, we never turned on the TV; never even left the condo. I don't remember everything we talked about, but I feel confident that we covered anything that was of any importance whatsoever, and many things that were of no importance at all. Here's the thing: these women are my soul mates. They know everything there is to know about me, and they love me because of (not in spite of) my many quirks. Not a few longstanding inside jokes were cracked open and dusted off. Stories were rehashed, memories revisited, and many new memories and inside jokes created. I haven't laughed so hard since I-don't-know-when. I think it also goes without saying that I haven't stayed up so late three nights in a row in longer than I can remember - possibly ever!These women are amazing. They are strong, beautiful, faith-filled, funny women. They are women of character who relish their roles as wives and mothers as much as they cherish the experiences that have made them who they are today. What brought us together was music; we met while performing in a musical theater troupe in college. What keeps us together is a passion for life and our families. When I am with these women I feel whole, loved, and beautiful. I do not know how to express it any other way.


While I can't say that I'm rested, I feel thoroughly refreshed and at peace. We have decided to make this an annual trip, and I am already counting down the months until next June, when we will reconvene in Houston.

Some scenes from the trip:

Girlfriends

Sometimes when I'm just not feeling on top of my game, or when I know that there was once a part of me that was fun, energetic and bubbly, it' great to talk to someone who knew me when...

• I was able to stay up later than 10pm for something leisure-related
• I didn't mind calling in sick to work to sit on a patio and drink a glass of wine with a girlfriend on the first nice day of spring
• I worked two jobs - happily
• I loved to go out dancing
• I was a chronic dater
• I would sit up on my bed late and night, laughing with a girlfriend over nothing in particular

Today, as I padded around the house trying to decide if I should try to nap again or clean, my good friend Kerri surprised me with a call. We laughed harder than I've laughed in awhile. It felt so good to tap into that part of me, and still be right here where I belong. I've gotten to do some really neat things in my life, and I've made some very good friends along the way. I cherish the memories I have from the different seasons of my life: the growing up years, the college years, the Omaha year, the years in the mountains pre-Husband, the years in the mountains with Husband, and the season we are in right now. I'm touched that a few good friends from each part of my life count me among the people they stay in touch with and continue to bless with their friendship.

Thanks for the laughs this morning Kerri! For just a moment I forgot that I was tired :)

A Weekend Full of Friends - But Not Labor!

Last night, as I heaved my humongous belly from the left side to the right side so that I could get up and haul myself to the bathroom, it dawned on me that there are some words in our vocabulary that just inherently work for pregnancy. For example, heave. When you are 9+ months pregnant, there is no other way to describe how you get from lying on one side, to lying on the other. Gravity is completely working against you. Here are two others:

haul - You may associate this word with expediency - like, haul **s. However, when you've got 30 extra pounds on you, this word refers to the need to actually put a wheel barrow in front of you, drop your belly in, and go.

pop - As in, "I'm about to...". While this word can typically be used along with "pizazz" and "sparkle", when your belly protrudes and your skin stretches to the point where you can see the outline of the baby inside, this word can only be used as a verb. I've always thought the phrase "You look like you're about to pop!" was crass, but you know what? I feel like I'm about to pop. Or at the very least, like my skin won't stretch any more.

I swore up and down I was going into labor on Saturday. After waking up with a cramp in my back in the middle of the night, I spent the whole day feeling crampy - which is exactly how I felt for three days before my water broke with Kirby. It's amazing how much we pregnant girls can allow ourselves to get our hopes up in the last couple of weeks. I think it's actually a tactic we use to help the time pass more quickly. Regardless, I woke up feeling as fine as a woman in my delicate condition can feel. It's probably for the best, since I still have quite a list of things to accomplish before I can feel good about leaving others with the household and Christmas duties.

This weekend I was blessed to spend some quality time with a few good friends. Friday night I found myself cracking up in Village Inn with my first two Denver friends. We followed the pie and laughs by spending an hour praying together in front of the Blessed Sacrament. What a gift - this Catholic Faith - and how blessed I am to have friends to share it with! We joked on the way home about our rockin' night out - pie followed by church...I do truly love my life! Saturday I attended a ladies' tea and Christmas bazaar at my neighbor's church. In five years of being neighbor-friends, it was our first ever trek out of the neighborhood together. I was thoroughly uplifted by the message of the speaker at the tea, who talked about what "Emmanuel - God with us" really means, and how we should prepare for the coming of Christ.

So, it is with a full heart and joy for the Advent season that I am now going to try to tackle something I don't enjoy - laundry.

In the Dark No Longer

It seems I'm always a day late and a dollar short when it comes to knowing what's hip. I'm really okay with it, since I have friends and sisters who try to keep me up to speed. My sisters kindly rescued me from my Mom Jeans a couple of years ago and introduced me to the boot cut (and indigo wash). Now my good friends have clued me in on the blog that apparently everybody is reading: The Pioneer Woman Cooks.

Did you know about this? Apparently, I'm the last woman on earth to not know who Ree Drummond is. I had proof of this last night when I accompanied two of my dear friends to a Pioneer Woman book signing at the Tattered Cover. We had a little trouble parking. There was not one space to be had in the multi-story parking garage; so we cruised the surrounding neighborhood trying to find a spot, finally landing one about six or seven blocks away. The whole time, the girls kept saying, "Do you think all of these cars are for the book signing? Surely not!"
The answer to that my friends, is yes. When we got into the store we hopped into line thinking it looked long but not unmanageable, only to discover that the part of the line we could see was just the upstairs part of the line! It snaked down two separate staircases and joined up in a big room where people were crammed in (it was hot in there - so hot!) waiting for books to be signed. It took very little convincing for Nikki and I to decide that it was not worth waiting in line - especially since they had sold out of the book (okay, to be fair I didn't even know who the gal was prior to last night, so of course it took zero convincing for me). Michelle was a great sport about it. I could see in her eyes that she would have gladly waited in that line until the second coming, but then, she isn't phased by things like hours-long lines - she does more in a typical day than I think of doing in a month.

In the end, we each bought a book and went to the cafe to sip tea, cocoa, and coffee and chat about all the things that we moms chat about when we get a rare night out together. It was such a treat. I think I smiled the whole time, and I know I laughed harder than I've laughed in awhile. So thanks girls, for getting me out of the house, and for bringing me up to speed on what seems to be the hottest thing going in the world of cooking blogs.

If you want to check out the Pioneer Woman for yourself, click here:
http://thepioneerwoman.com/

As for me, I think I'll be checking in on it often for recipes. They look to be just the kind I like: simple ingredients, easy-to-follow steps, and LOTS of butter (real butter). Then again, you probably already knew that since I am the last person on earth to know about her blog!

No Snow Day for Mom

Today the boys woke up to the most exciting news a kid can get...SNOW DAY!!! Unfortunately, I couldn't stick around long to revel in their happiness because I headed out with Husband this morning to work his company's annual food show. The boys had a wonderful day with Nana (who happened to be at our house to pull last-minute field trip duty, which turned to snow day duty). They played games, stayed in their pj's until 2:30pm and got french toast for lunch! Meanwhile, my day went something like this:

9:00 am - report to food show
9:15 am - find booth that I'm working, note that there is no chair available (I was called very last
minute to work, and said I could only if I could do it seated)
10:00 am - 1st bathroom break; thinking to myself "This may have been a mistake."
11:00 am - still no chair, back is already very stiff and getting quite painful
12:00 pm - Husband to the rescue with a chair! Back KILLING me
12:30 pm - Told I should try to stand up "Whenever the big boss comes around" (translation:
don't sit down)
1:30 pm - Yep. Definitely a mistake (though a fun one!)
2:30 pm - Decided the canned gravy booth is the most boring booth I've worked yet at a
food show
3:00 pm - Thank goodness for all of the great people I ran into. Chatting helped keep my mind
off the fact that I was almost immobile because my back hurt so bad.
3:47 pm - Texted Husband: "Where are you? I'm ready!" (food show ended at 4pm)
4:06 pm - Massaging my swollen ankles in the mini van all the way home

The boys spent the tail end of the day at our friends' The Hermansons, playing with their three girls, and when we arrived to pick them up we were treated to a fabulous dinner. I brought my knitting stuff so that Nicole could refresh my memory and we then had the coziest time I can remember in awhile, as the guys sat in the kitchen chatting and drinking coffee, and Nicole, Emma and I knitted. Emma also taught Kirby to "Finger Knit" (you know you were a child of the 80's if you finger-knitted). It was a peaceful, fun evening as the snow fell right outside the windows and Nicole and I were snuggled up on the couch with happy kids all around us.

Kirby fell in love with finger knitting. Husband was chuckling as we left and Kirby said "Emma, next time I come over I'll bring my yarn and we can knit together!"

The last thing he told me after I kissed him goodnight? "I'm going to dream about finger knitting tonight!"

Can I please be in 1st grade again? Just for a little while?

Life shows her face differently to each of us...

I find myself sitting at my dining room table with my heart too full for words. But you know me, I'll try to squeak some out anyway. I feel like it's necessary to uncork some of this.

On Monday night, a good friend of ours lost his dad. While he was not in the greatest of health, this was unexpected and thankfully, did not drag on for days. Our friend and his family are wrestling with the details that accompany loss and delay grief, and Husband and I will travel to Nebraska on Saturday to attend the funeral. In this particular circle of friends - from my college days in Centennial Singers - this is the fourth person to lose their father. Aren't we too young for that? Isn't that supposed to happen much further down the road?

Last night I found out - through Facebook (oh, the irony!) - that a former neighbor and friend died. His ex-wife told me that she and their son are hanging in and doing well. It was through another friend that I discovered he committed suicide. When Husband and I were first married and lived in our little condo in the mountains, this couple lived above us. Our dogs played together and we had dinners together and socialized like young newlyweds do. It is hard for me now to grasp the fact that to me life feels so wonderfully fulfilling, and to him life felt too dark to continue to face. It's like staring at two sides of the same proverbial coin. His Facebook page is a very sad tribute to a person who was obviously wrestling with feelings far darker than I've ever had to deal with; his last post, posted the day before his death, reads like a final sigh.

I'm sorry to be so heavy with this entry. I had all kinds of pictures to post of the kids, their cousins and their visit with Grandpa, but I think I need to leave the space of a day or so. I will return with the photos - sure signs of how thankful I am for my life and the lives of those I love.

Lost in the Show

Here is what I've always loved about a good performance: it makes the average person believe that anything is possible. Whenever I see a ballet or a musical I cry - especially during the big musical numbers. I think it's a combination of being moved by the performers, combined with the release I feel when I can completely lose myself in someone else's performance, not to mention the fact that I have always loved to be on stage and for a brief while, I can vicariously experience what it would be like to do it professionally.

Tonight I saw Julie & Julia with one of my friends who is not only an amazing cook, but a mother of four with another on the way. The girl time was much appreciated by both of us, and I think it's safe to say we were pleasantly surprised by just how much we loved the movie. It did for me what no other movie has ever done - which is to move me in the same way a good performance does. By the end of the movie, I not only had the urge to come home and cook Boeuf Bourguignon, but the feeling that I could tackle Julia Child's recipes (which heretofore seemed completely overwhelming to me). I had the feeling that I - a decent cook in my own right, but certainly not a great cook - could tackle the impossible. Ever the romantic, I was completely swept away by the idea that I too could debone a duck.

Two hours passed too quickly, and as we stepped out of the theatre, I was met with the reality that I truly have no desire to cook my way through any cookbook. I'm happy skimming my issues of Cook's Country and watching my favorite Food Network shows. I lack the patience that traditional French cooking would require, and I would far rather cook a meal that takes less time in the kitchen. Still, cliche though it may seem, I do plan to try Boeuf Bourguinon!

Life's Abiding Friendships

Tara, Sarah, Shantel, me & Becky
(notably absent is Laurel).

Though my life has changed over the past 17 years, there is one thing that hasn't: my friendship with the incredible women above. Many (many) hours were spent in college poring over music, rehearsing shows, studying, crying over some dumb guy - or trying to figure out how to get the guy, laughing together, eating together (okay, drinking together). We know each other's parents, siblings, family histories, and worst of all, dating histories! Our conversations now center much more around our children, husbands, ex-husbands, jobs, and the joys and sorrows of our lives as adults. As our dear friend Shayne told me just recently, "You live life deeply; and you may get hurt doing it, but I know you wouldn't have it any other way".

My Centennial Singers friends, whom I met the week before my freshman year of college started, are a group of people who live life deeply. They love deeply, laugh deeply, and live life - and all of its trials - with a deep committment to God and their true selves. This is what is hard to find in life. This is why we are still so close today. It is why we can reconcile who we were 15 years ago with who we are now and find not contradiction, but growth in spirit and in self.

I love these people madly, and was blessed to have about 15 of them (plus spouses and children) in our home this past weekend. We came together from Tennessee, Texas, Arizona, Connecticut and all over Colorado. Our children had the time of their lives, and we grew up a little as we turned the performing over to them. And, "I don't want to name any names, but Laurel Peterson Wicke..." was deeply missed, in true Singers fashion.

Turning it over to the next generation:

When You Are Truly Loved

Yesterday started out gloomy. I have no idea why...just a Charlie Brown sort of day I guess. I had plans to watch my friend Nicole's 4 kids for her birthday while she spent the day doing special girlie things with another friend. I was looking forward to it, as I always do. Little did I know that they would turn my whole day around in a out 30 seconds.

As the girls walked in the house, I heard them whispering and conspiring with my boys. In walked Nicole behind them, with this cake:


You might be wondering why one woman would make a Holly Hobbie cake for another woman. Well, there's a story here. Sometime over the past couple of years I mentioned to her daughters that I had a Holly Hobbie room when I was a little girl, and that my 3rd birthday cake was a Holly Hobbie cake, made for me by my aunt. When Nicole came across this cake pan, her girls remembered and they conspired to make me this cake for my birthday (which isn't until tomorrow). Suffice it to say, I cried when I saw it.

On this journey called life, its not uncommon to meet a lot of interesting people, and amass a large group of friends. What is a rare treat is to have a friend who knows you so intimately - yet somehow I feel like I've ended up with more than my fair share of such friends. I was so touched by this simple, personal gift and the fact that three little girls would remember such an insignificant detail about my life. It is times like that when you know you are truly loved.

Of course, every birthday cake calls for a birthday party, right?

Just another excuse to extend the celebration of my favorite day!

4th of July Memories

Kirby gets ready for a 4th of July parade with Dyllan and Shailynn;
another great 5-year old moment all the way around!

Did you ever get the feeling, even as something is happening, that memories are being made? I think the first time I was aware of this was during my freshman year in college. I was part of a musical theatre group (Centennial Singers) that toured throughout Wyoming and the US. The people I met in this group became my closest friends and confidantes within the first week that I knew them (a week before school even started). We became inseparable. We'd tour together on a bus for 10 days, inevitably sick and tired of the close quarters; no sooner would the bus pull up to the University than we would be planning a get together - "Okay everybody, meet at Shane's house at 7 tonight!" We couldn't stand being away from each other, but sometimes we were so close that we fought like siblings. The friendship lasted as many of us left the group, finished college, moved away, got married, and have had children. These people have been more than my friends - family, really. For 16 years now, we've kept in touch; we've been each other's roommates, bridesmaids, financial advisers - you name it. Now, we are raising our kids together and I know we all get a thrill from watching them have fun together. It's safe to say our kids love each other the way their parents love each other.

We spent 4th of July in Ft. Collins with five of these friends. Shane and Shantel met in the group in 1991 - 17 years later they've got three kids. Scott and Armeda (another couple who met in the group) and our friend Dave were visiting as well. Poor Husband - he was the only non-alum in attendance and was subjected to the usual re-hashing of backstage stories and parties gone amiss. He's a great sport about it. He's actually adopted these people as his friends. I tease him all the time telling him he stole my friends, but really it thrills my heart that he's grown as close to them as I am. Many of our friends weren't with us, and they were missed, but we made up for it by telling the most embarrassing stories about them.

The night of the 4th of July, we went to the lake in Shane and Shantel's neighborhood. As the seven of us sat in our camping chairs by the lake, with our six kids lined up in front of us in their mini camping chairs, nudging each other and giggling, I felt that familiar swell in my heart, "We're making memories here". It always feels like no time has passed when we come together, and I know we still see each other as we did over a decade ago. But watching our kids together is a realization of how far we've come; a sweet realization of the bond we share and how it has survived.

Connor prepares for take-off, pulled by Dad. There were 2 crashes, but then,
who ever said it was a good idea to pull a kid on a tricycle tied with a rope to a bike?
He still crossed the finish line smiling and was the subject of many photos taken by people we don't know.

Scotty and Shane discuss the ups and downs of the flag placements on their bikes.

Dads and kids display their decked-out bikes.

Of course, we moms dolled up the guys' bikes when they weren't around!