2.11.20 Damsel in a Ditch

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“I’m a damsel, I’m in distress, I can handle this. Have a nice day!”

– Meg, from Disney’s Hercules 

So I very, very rarely post twice in one week let alone two days in a row, but today warranted a post my friends! Trust me.

I love the picture above because it is the story of my life. No … there’s nothing wrong with your eyes, it is a blur, because that is the speed of life, and in my experience, trying to focus for even a second doesn’t really seem plausible. Today was no different. Maybe someday my memories will be in focus, and when they are, I hope I remember today.

So I dashed home from work to get home on time for my son’s personal tutor (he wanted to learn Japanese … GO HIM! So we hired someone wonderful to come once a week). She was pulling in as I was pulling in. He had lesson, and as soon as she left, we needed to get to soccer – but my daughter wasn’t done with her shower on time (she never is). Then, she was ready but he was “getting his socks.” That took another five minutes and so we were running behind.

Fast forward to thirty minutes later … we are nearly to the soccer field (new place, far, far away) and Google Maps tells me to do a U-turn. No. I did not miss my turn, this state I live in just has the absolute WORST road infrastructure and U-turns are as common as turning right or left. Let me back up and tell you now, most practices were canceled today because of the EXTREME rain we’ve been having. There was no track, no after school sports, no girls’ soccer … but oh yes. We still had boys soccer. Back to the road. I take my U-turn, knowing that my wheel will dip a smidge past the asphalt to the grass, but I see a few tire tracks and assume (yes, I know what assuming does) that it’ll be fine. So I get a bit of grass in my wheel.

Nope.

I got stuck. BIG TIME! My left-front wheel immediately sinks in about three inches below the lip of the asphalt. I try. And try. And try some more, furthering my predicament at every acceleration. My son, at this point says, “Oh no. Mom. Don’t worry. Are we stuck? Should I text my coach?” I told him sure, not knowing until later that he texted the entire team, “We are in a ditch.” Awesome. I’m that parent. The “ditch” parent. The “we-were-already-going-to-be-late-and-now-we-are-late-from-being-stuck- in-a-ditch,” parent! Here comes the damsel!

While I don’t like playing this role in the least … sometimes it is just true. Everyone needs help sometimes. This was my time. And you know what? God delivered. I wasn’t there more than two minutes when an angel in a Subway t-shirt walked across this suburban street. “Hey there,” he said, “I saw you through the window of my house right there,” he pointed behind him, “and I thought you might need help.”

I told him I wasn’t sure what to do and he said, “You get in and I’ll push.” He tried and tried some more and asked me if I had anything like a book or magazine I could put under the wheel. I gave him the one flimsy magazine I had, but nothing doing. Then he said, “I might have a piece of wood back by my house, I’ll put it under for some traction.” He just wouldn’t leave me alone and I could have cried. At that moment, a truck pulled up and another man jumped out and said, “I have some rope if you want, I think I could pull you out.” Then he signaled another truck filled with guys he worked with.

In a matter of minutes there were six men pushing my car up over that lip. I never wished more that I had something to give in my astonished gratitude. A whole host of angels descended and graced me with smiles and “no problems,” like they saved damsels every day. I promised to pay it forward and this is my first attempt to do so.

Be strong enough to accept when miracles happen – they’re among us, in Subway t-shirts, and muddy work boots. In tired, over-worked faces of men who stopped simply because they knew a damsel when they saw one, and had too much integrity as gentlemen to stand by and watch.

Thank you to my heroes.

Thank you God for miracles.

Thank you life for making me a damsel in a ditch.

 

Go be someone’s miracle today,

Elle

2.10.20 Ten Confessions

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Confession #1:  This week my son has lost: his book report book, his reading book, his shin guards, and his right soccer shoe (which was in his soccer bag). I am officially about to lose my patience, more money, and my mind … because of him.

Confession #2:   I had an hour to myself because my angel of a friend asked if she could take my crazy-disorganized son to soccer for me. I decided to workout. Three minutes in, my husband called and told me he’d be two hours late. I did not return to my workout, figuring another two hours without him to help WAS a workout.

Confession #3:   My dinner prayer consisted of, “Thank you God for leftovers,” and “Please help me with everything else.”

Confession #4:   It isn’t a dessert day, but Nutella is sweet. I convinced myself since it has hazelnuts, and nuts are protein, I was doing myself a favor by eating some … especially since I didn’t workout. I needed the extra health benefit. Don’t you agree?

Confession #5:   I might have decided that the slightly-sticky bowl from the dishwasher wasn’t that sticky, and put it away fast before thinking about it too much.

Confession #6:   I have lost the ability to sit down when I am eating dinner. I usually stand and empty the dishwasher. (I know you’ll be mad when you read this mom, but let me remind you – you never sat either, and still don’t! So don’t be mad.) Today, even with my family gone in different directions, I still stood. Is it weird to have to re-train yourself how to sit?

Confession #7:   Sometimes I fold extra laundry just to give myself the opportunity to rewatch episodes of Gilmore Girls. I feel like Rory and Lorelai would be proud of this secret sneaky multitasking. If only I could live in Stars Hollow … oh the delight I’d have staying at the Dragonfly Inn and writing at Luke’s Diner.

Confession #8:   I am planning to offer to put the kids to bed tonight, because then I’ll get to lay down next to them. When, I’ll wake up a few hours later,  it will be “too late” to accomplish anything more. This may or may not be a regular planned occurrence.

Confession #9:  When I find my son’s shin guards, and book, and other book … I am going to charge him three dollars for my time. Maybe five. He recently told me that when he was a little, he once “lost something” on purpose because he knew I’d say, “First one to find the missing item gets a dollar.” Punk! On second thought … make it ten!

Confession #10:   I secretly wish against wish that you’ll share a confession of parenthood, marriage, or just LIFE IN GENERAL, with me because it’ll make me feel less like I’m in confession, and more like I’m chatting with friends who unequivocally “get” me.

Your turn,

Exhausted Elle

7.5.19 Obstacles … Hurdles Cleared … and Everything In-Between

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So … we are moving. Far. We are starting new jobs, the kids are starting new schools, we need to find a new church … the list goes on and on. People keep asking me if I’m stressed and I am quick to say yes, but not about moving so much as trying to keep up with LIFE while you’re moving. This is a pity post, which means dear ones, that I am going to be looking for a sweet amount of “You poor thing’s,” and “It won’t last forever’s,” in my comments section! 🙂

Obstacle #1: We are closing a week before moving, which essentially means we are homeless.

Obstacle #2: We are closing on the new house two weeks after moving, which essentially means … we are STILL homeless.

Hurdle Cleared #1: We have good friends and family that will take care of us on both sides.

Everything In-Between #1: My cat … aka: Natural Born Predator, is currently going cross-eyed watching the carpet where a bug is crawling instead of doing her inborn duty and killing it.

Obstacle #3: Our seven-month-old puppy had an allergic reaction to the anesthesia for her spay surgery and almost died two weeks ago.

Hurdle Cleared #2: We have a fabulous veterinarian and she was able to do her surgery with new meds and she made it!

Everything In-Between #2: We have a dog with a donut around her neck who has no sense of spacial-awareness and is bumbling all over our box-ridden house … hilariously sad.

Obstacle #4: My husband has never seen the house we are buying in person, and is equal parts excited and terrified at his purchase.

Hurdle Cleared #3: Digital photography and realtor.com have provided great sneak-peeks!

Everything In-Between #3: There are some things that just DO NOT fit in boxes.

Obstacle #5: We took a family day “off” on the Fourth of July, and my son was sick with a fever the whole time resulting in two four-hour naps and no picnics, pools, or fireworks.

Hurdle Cleared #4: Sitting in an isolated row to see Spiderman: Far From Home totally redeemed our booger day. Nothing says God bless America like a Marvel movie!

Obstacle #6: We need to drive one of our cars down early and drop off our four pets to live with my family while we fly back to close on our house here, to then drive the other car down … but … we drive a Mini Cooper and a Kia.

Hurdle Cleared #5: My mom is as crazy as I am and agreed to help us herd our beasts south putting us at three adults to help wrangle the Great Pyrenees, Bernese Mountain dog, and two free-range cats! Say hairy!

Everything In-Between #4: Friends who buy you coffee and give you amazing, make-you-cry memory gifts are a rare and treasured blessing!

Obstacle #7: Having a piano ups the mover’s cost a hundred dollars! Grrr.

Hurdle Cleared #6: There is no clearing this hurdle … moving is wicked expensive, even when you do it the “cheap” way.

Everything In-Between #5: Is it weird how much I will miss my local antique store?

Obstacle #8: It is nearly impossible to pack your children sufficiently for a week away at camp and three weeks of being vagabond gypsies.

Hurdle Cleared #7: They are young and moving states away … much too far for the shame of repeated outfits for three weeks causing lasting damage.

Hurdle Cleared #8: I can always play the … “Hey, just remember at your new school there will be no uniforms!” card. I’ll tell them this rotation of clothes is just a final ode to uniforms.

Everything In-Between #6: Stress is bad for your complexion … and by “your” I mean my. I’m a literal zit-monster. Also … too much sun (even though I wear a chalk-white amount of sunscreen) gives my fair skin an unnatural amount of freckles – not the cute kind like my daughter’s cinnamon sugar across the nose sprinkle … but rather the sides of my face so that I look like I have a beard – a freckle beard. Attractive.

Everything In-Between #7: I want to tackle my summer reading list! 

Obstacle #9: My daughter’s bedroom light and fan stopped working. It is after the inspection, but we aren’t jerks … so we hired an electrician days before moving.

Hurdle Cleared #9: I found out that a friend that I taught with’s husband is an electrician! He was a wizard and it was over in fifty dollars!

Everything In-Between #8: I want to take a nap; and I cannot.

Everything In-Between #9: There are a great deal of, “We have to go there ONE. MORE. TIME. places in my family. We are running out of funds to fund our memory-making.

Obstacle #10: Saying goodbye to the home you moved into four days before your daughter was born really, really hurts.

Hurdle Cleared #10: Moving into a new home nine days before your daughter’s tenth birthday is a really, really cool irony.

Everything In-Between #10: Even now … even in all the chaos … life is a magnificent journey of haphazard, wonderful joys.

I’d still appreciate the pity post comments my darlings … I’m not getting my naps so something’s got to fuel my fire!

All my exhausted love,

Elle

10.18.18 But First …

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“Seeming to do is not doing.” Thomas Edison

Sometimes I get so frustrated with myself because I haven’t figured out how to do it all. I try. Trust me I try. But somehow … busy and busier is never enough to accomplish everything – or sometimes anything of value.

I find I’m at the, “But then/But first,” stage of my life. I have to finish that email, but then I have a meeting at four, but first I need to talk to so-and-so about such-and-such, but then I need to get my daughter to her haircut, but first I need to get home to let the dog out before she gets a U.T.I., but then my son has soccer, but first I probably need to feed him something … OH YEAH! I need to go pick up the groceries I ordered online this morning since I knew I wouldn’t have time to actually go – but then I’d make him late for his practice, but first I’d better make something out of the nothing groceries I’ve got left.

And on. And on. And on.

I’m a bit tired if you couldn’t tell. And my friends, I hope you aren’t. I hope you have a wealth of sleep-saturated nights and lazy-day mornings. I hope that your first “thing to do” isn’t until eleven o’clock. I hope your laundry is somehow magically done without your having done it, and the dishes put themselves away. I hope that when you get up you find that you still have two more hours to rest. And when your day ends, I hope there is nothing on your to do list but a checked-off load of accomplishments. I wish this reality for you … because at this point in my life … that is a fantasy.

My sweet husband (aka: the cute roommate I have that I think might have a crush on me sometimes when our eyes happen to meet as we pass each other every other day) fell asleep putting my daughter to bed. There she was wide awake as daddy breathed just a little too evenly beside her. I left him there because jealousy is a sin and I’m trying to be virtuous … that and if he stayed, I’d get to workout without interruption.

It is late, and tomorrow is dangerously close to today. I need to get to sleep myself but then, this whole circus will start up again so first I had to reach my typing fingers out into the world to assure myself I am not alone. Right? Are you with me exhausted friends? If so, carry on weary soldiers. If not … God bless you and keep you where you are.

Off to bed, but then someone has to turn out the light, but first I need to go wake him up to do it!

Dreaming of longer days,

Elle

 

 

8.8.18 My Kind of People

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“I don’t like noodles Auntie Elle.”

“We are AT Noodles and Company buddy, what did you think that they made here?”

“I don’t know.”

“Noodles. That’s what they make here.”

Blank stare.

“So what do you think you’d like to get then?”

Looking up at the menu board for a long time, my nephew studied the pictured options, finally resting on something near the bottom and pointing to it.

“Garlic bread.”

“Garlic bread?”

“Yeah, I like garlic bread.”

“Do you want something with your garlic bread like soup or a salad or something? I feel like garlic bread isn’t really a meal.”

Looking for another length of time, he pointed once more.

“Pineapple.”

“Pineapple … you want pineapple with your garlic bread.”

“Yeah.”

“Not buttered noodles or chicken or veggies.”

“No.”

“Well alright … garlic bread and pineapple it is.”

“And I’ll have six pieces instead of three so it’s more.”

“It’s more alright buddy, but okay, six it is.”

This was the conversation I had with my eight-year-old nephew when I was watching him and his brother and sister for a week this summer. Going from a mother of two to five had its challenges, but honestly, even on the worst day (like that one, where we were stuck in the dentist’s office for two hours and my daughter had a cavity for the first time and a major meltdown because she had a cavity for the first time) conversations like this happen, and then it is all okay.

I struggle with people who say they don’t like kids. What’s not to like? As a teacher and mother, I feel that little people are the absolute best kind of people – my kind. I find even more that adults that I truly enjoy are so enjoyable because I can still see the kid in them, and that is my favorite part.

Yesterday my son held the door open for me and said, “Hey mom … how old do you think you’ll be when you go to live in one of those nursery homes?” It took every ounce of my kegal-exercised-control not to pee my pants laughing. I told him that I figured somewhere in my eighties, but that he could help me make the decision based on how I was doing upstairs. God bless him.

I love the quote from Kent Nerburn that says, “Remember to be gentle with yourself and others. We are all children of chance and none can say why some fields will blossom while others lay brown beneath the August sun.” The thing is, I really believe that no child should ever be a child of chance. We have schools, we have teachers, and principals and aides and volunteers and absolutely NO excuse. By God it is our job to LOVE them, not to like or to tolerate, but to love. I might be stepping out here, but I would go so far as to argue that if you as a teacher do not love the students God puts in your way, you are no longer called to teach.

The last days of my summer are ebbing to a close, and as melancholy as I feel about the quickly fading fireflies and the earlier approaching mornings … I am still excited. I’ve bought new lantern globes, pencil toppers, and name plates. I’ve begun moving desks and replenishing marker supplies. I got new fringe rugs and about two-hundred colored paperclips divided according to shade because those are necessary to the balance of my room of course! I can’t help it. I am a kid person, because I am very much in touch with the kid in me, and I let her voice dictate a great deal of my adult decisions because she is still right.

Children (even naughty ones, God love them … they’re the most fun) are the best kind of people, and it takes nothing to make them happy. Frederick Douglass once said, “It is easier to build strong children than to repair broken men.” I pray this year, as the academic turn comes once again, that everyone will remember this quote and take the time to love a kid just by giving them five uninterrupted minutes of your time.

Even if they talk about Pokemon.

Or Shopkins.

Or bugs.

Or knock-knock jokes.

Or guess my number.

Or why questions.

Or foods they hate.

Or foods they love.

Whatever it is … give them time.

You never know, by doing so, we just might be healing humanity one garlic bread and pineapple dinner at a time.

Please share your favorite kid quote with me. I’d love to giggle along.

Elle

1.30.18 Unbuckled on a Rollercoaster

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So I woke up sick, and tired (because we all know one condition doesn’t travel without the other). And from there, the day continued on to be a rollercoaster of emotions ranging from giggle to growl-worthy. It’s rather a pity that our conscious doesn’t have the forethought to tell us to buckle up and keep our smiles and frowns inside the “coaster” at all times because I’m pretty sure I wasn’t always able to keep my facial expressions at a secure setting of placid.

Here is my list of highs and lows, hiccups and laughter.

7:20 Happy because I got to sleep in

7:25 Sad because I only got to sleep in for calling in sick to work

7:30 Annoyed at how long my daughter took to brush her dreadlocks

7:35 Still annoyed

7:45 More annoyed that I had to join the war on Goldilocks’ locks

7:50 Defeated and put her hair into a puffy braid that hid the knots

8:20 Excited to nap after dropping the kids off at school

8:45 Patiently waiting for the dog to come in so I can go nap as planned

9:00 Now LESS patiently waiting for the cat to finish her food but I have to stay and watch because if I don’t the dog will eat it

9:30 Sleepy, and almost nappy-happy

9:40 Devastated as I get a text from two teachers telling me that in my absence, the class hamster got out

9:45 Still Devastated as I get more texts from more teachers

10:20 Exhausted but sleepless as I continue to answer calls and texts about the hamster

11:00 Agitated, I get up to exercise out my pent up energy from the hamster fiasco I can do NOTHING about

11:40 Mildly intrigued by the old, cheesy spy movie I started watching starring Miley Cyrus

12:00 Proud of myself for realizing what a waste of time I was indulging in, switched my jogging pants for jeans, and went to the nail salon

12:30 Delighted that my sweet Cambodian nail technicians were as filled with coughs and sniffles as I was, making me feel less guilty about coming

12:40 Smart as I learned three phrases in Khmer, the language of Cambodia

1:00 Charmed when I saw a huge, burly biker sucking on a lollipop down the street

1:30 Suspicious as I ate my burrito bowl next to a man who literally faced the corner typing text into his computer like he was cracking some security code for the CIA

2:00 Cozy with a light salted caramel mocha to keep me company when I tried to relax and write, since sleep was NOT going to happen today

3:30 Indignant when I politely asked a lady at the coffee shop to keep an eye on my computer bag only to have her give me a stare so menacing you’d have thought I asked for a bite of her sandwich, needless to say, I took ALL MY BAGS into the bathroom with me (thanks for nothing lady)

4:00 Loved with a snowplow hug from my son who jumped on me when I picked him up from school

4:01 Double-loved when my daughter followed it up with a gentle wrap of her little arms around me

5:00 Giggly as I sat waiting for my kids to finish acting class while sitting across from a lovely lady who talked to herself while knitting

5:30 Sore from sitting on the hard floor for two hours while my children acted because I’m “that” mom who is too afraid to stay in the car while her kids are in the building in case they need me … which they did … for money and snacks, but still …

I have no idea what emotions the rest of my day might entail, and chances are there could be new emojis created off of them, but as Travis Barker once said, “Thank you for life, and all the little ups and downs that make it worth living.”

I’d love to hear the best or worst or funniest emotion you were faced with today. Please share! We are all unbuckled on this rollercoaster together after all!

All my love,

Elle

1.17.18 The Reality of Nerdy Weirdos

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“Never be afraid to laugh at yourself, after all, you could be missing out on the joke of the century.” – Barry Humphries
So sometimes I can be a bit of a perfectionist. I, like every other human on the planet, like things how I like them. To me the problem isn’t that I strive to do things well, it’s that in the pursuit of a job well done, I find that I start to care more about how people perceive me than I should. I’m a people pleaser, and while I’m not ashamed to admit it, I am afraid that I can easily get carried away with liking the idea that people are developing a higher opinion of me than I deserve.
I love writing and poetry, deep conversations and thought provoking questions. Most of my publications are meant to inspire, and while that is good, I never want it to seem that I am on a pedestal of any kind. (I actually cannot stand pedestal speakers; I wish they’d trip off their high horses and get grounded from time to time.) Hoping that this is not the way I present myself in person or in print, I asked myself what to do about it. My answer? The only fair thing to prove how imperfect I am is to share a few laughable quirks and expose myself for the nerdy weirdo I can actually be.
Here goes … please don’t judge too harshly.
– Sometimes I’m afraid my teeth are shifting after years without braces, so every time I chew a new piece of gum, I first bite into it and check my tooth imprint to be sure it’s not too off line.
– Leaving the house in sweatpants makes me nervous; I even go to Walmart in jeans.
– I don’t believe in claiming places. To this day my husband and I switch cars frequently, don’t assign places at the dinner table, and switch sides of the bed every couple of days.
– I can’t stand when people waste kleenex just to be dainty when they blow their noses. I am the least ladylike nose blower you’ll find. My signature nose blow is a decibel or two above most men.
– If I start writing a page and make a mistake in the first paragraph, I start the whole thing over … sorry environment … I just can’t write on a bad juju page.
– When I get a massage I secretly worry that I’ll get a ring around my face from the head cushion or that he’ll push too hard on my back and make me pass gas. It is both relaxing and terrifying.
– If I go more than two days between working out, I am no longer nice. I get edgy and snippy and my husband almost always invariably figures it out and says as gently as he can, “Hey, why don’t you go exercise.”
– I love animals … sometimes more than people. We have four pets and shedding like you wouldn’t believe, but if someone came to me with another puppy or kitten I’d be like, “Yeah, we can take it.” But then my husband would make us go to couple’s therapy as he is a bit less keen on the furry-tile floors we’ve grown accustomed to.
– I have a hard time saying goodbye or letting go of any kind words, so I store emails in a file called, “Want to Keep.” I’m pretty sure it is now in the high hundreds.
– I hate whistling. I know it is a happy sound but it grates! No one whistles well except Julie Andrews and even her whistling annoys me.
– I like to believe in things I cannot explain like Bigfoot, mermaids, or fairies because I just think … why not!?!
– I love peanut butter. Like – a lot. Sometimes I just grab a spoon and go. I have Celiac’s Disease and cannot eat anything with: wheat, rye, barley, or corn, but I’d rather have that ANY DAY than a peanut allergy.
– I am a rubbish cook and gardener. I feel embarrassed because some of my dearest and most treasured friends and family can single handedly grow an Eden or cook for royalty and I’m just like … “It’s too much work!”
– I’m afraid my husband will age better than me. I use lotions and oils and primers … still the fear remains and the struggle is real. I have an expressive demeanor, and I’m conscious of the lines on my forehead, so when I’m stressed I realize I subconsciously rub at them like that’s going to help!
– I use any and all excuses to attach the new fairy emoji to my messages as it is a secret ambition to be thought of as one (the cute, nice ones, not the sass … okay, a little bit of sass but not too much).
– Sometimes when I’m afraid I’ve been too honest in a text or email I’ll slap on a smiley emoji to lessen the edge. I’ve been grateful on more than one occasion for the softening a digital ball of sunshine can render.
– I cannot sit still very well and am always trying to multi-task. This once got me yelled at by a speaker on a field trip as I tried to send pictures to the parents of their children during her speech. She told me I needed to be, “An example of listening to the children.” She was right. I was mortified … but I still don’t know how to do only one thing at a time.
So there you have it. I’ve realized that I need to just laugh already and stop trying to pretend like the quirks aren’t there. They are prevalent and multiplying the older I get, so here’s to the real me … the real you … and the reality of nerdy weirdos like us.
Please share a quirk with me! I’d love to laugh WITH you too!
Elle

10.13.17 “Team Moccasin” Give Away

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“I think perhaps love thrives on chance and unlikely circumstance. Life also thrives on these principles – and is life not love? And love not life?” – Brandon Boyd

Lately I’ve felt like there aren’t enough love stories in the world. We hear plenty of hate, and an overabundance of greed, anarchy, and discontent – but love? Well, she’s been a bit quiet recently. It seems as though anger has the loudest voice, but that doesn’t seem like a good enough reason to listen to it.

Do you know what would be utterly magical? Giving voice to love. Sharing stories that imbue delight, inspire the heart, and focus our minds back to their intended settings. My mom and dad just so happen to be such a love story, and although it may not be my tale to tell, I don’t think they’d mind, just this once, if passed along their unconventional narrative, for the sake of putting out a little more endearment into the world.

It all began when she was a teenager. Like any girl of her age, she loved to frequent the local mall with her friends, and there, was besotted by a boy with shoulder-length hair and playful blue eyes. He worked for an upscale men’s clothing store, and was “dressed to the nines,” so-to-speak. She found a way to make conversation, and she liked what she heard as well as saw. They talked and dated for a few weeks, and that was that. Smitten.

Fast forward another week or so, and to her surprise, who came off the bus but her handsome (who she thought was older but now realized was not) young man. Only he was not her young man at all. This kid had on a t-shirt and jeans with moccasins of all things! She was devastated that he was not the polished guy from the shop, but a local, every-day high schooler who had succumbed to the fad of wearing sleepwear out of doors! Regrettably, his charms were no match for the vanity of fashion.

And that was it. Their brief infatuation was crushed by a wardrobe malfunction.

If the story had ended there, (as most assumed it had) neither myself or my sister would’ve been born. As it is, God has a sense of humor, and He often uses fate to deliver it. A handful of  years later, that same girl happened to be at a party with the moccasin boy she’d all-but-forgotten.

That night (thankfully) he was fully dressed with socks and proper shoes, and his charms once again tempted her interest. Only her honor prevented her from accepting his number, as she had been seeing someone else for some time. Gratefully, her best friend also happened to be at the party, and she had no qualms about compromising my mother’s reputation. She promptly gave my father mom’s number, and a few days later, he called.

I’m thankful for the days without caller ID, because my mom, unknowingly, answered the phone that night, and talked to my dad for hours early into the morning. And just like that, within half a day, they’d both taken the first step into falling in love.

I happen to love their love story. Though my mom feigns embarrassment, it’s nice to know that even she wasn’t perfect once upon a time. My dad uses this beginning to win us all over every time he tells it. About a year ago, I told my own children, and they declared they were “Team Moccasin” from the get-go. We like to think it is a little bit of cosmic karma that we’re still able to tease about this story every time any of us wears our slipper feet out-of-doors.

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Mom and dad have been married over forty-years now, and whether in heels or sandals, Converse or construction boots, they’ve remained grounded in following the path of love worn in by a lifetime of walking in the same direction.

It would be an honor to hear your generational love stories. As an incentive to share, I will write a poem based on your shared love story for the commenter that my family votes “most swoon-worthy!” It will be my next post and (if you share your address through my contact me page) I will send you a personalized print of it.

I will also link all of the shared love stories to my next blog post so that everyone will get to read your precious words, thus spreading love exponentially around the world.

LOVE WELL …  for it is all that amounts to any value in this life.

Elle

9.4.17 Just a Little Like Audrey

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“As you grow older, you will discover that you have two hands, one for helping yourself, the other for helping others.” – Audrey Hepburn

This Friday I will be turning thirty-five. I am not ashamed to admit it (though in my math mind I readily recognize it is half way to seventy). I am happy! If you’ve followed me for any length of time then you know that I adore birthdays, mostly because I believe in the power of wishes, of goodwill, and of love – all of these things happen on birthdays, and somehow leave me feeling infused with positivity.

Somehow, this year, both my mother and mother-in-law, have bought me gifts that revolve around the one and only, fabulous, Audrey Hepburn. One of the presents my mother sent me early was a boutique book about style, featuring Audrey on the cover. A day earlier, my mother-in-law had given me an Audrey-inspired lace dress, high-necked and sleeveless with a silk bow in the back. How both of these women knew I’d need to feel “Just a little like Audrey” on this key birthday, I’ll never know, but I’m certainly glad they did.

Inspired by their gifts, I’ve been watching my favorite Hepburn film, How to Steal a Million, reading about her iconic fashion sense, and skimming her best quotes. But do you know what made her best of all, worthy of praise and recognition? She had a true heart for love, for showing emotion to those who needed it, and for giving genuinely. Dedicating much of her life toward being a UNICEF Ambassador, Audrey replaced her film career with volunteerism. She is noted as having said, “Success is like reaching an important birthday, and realizing you’re exactly the same.” She was humble. She was gracious. She was a classy, intelligent lady.

More than any other year, in this last I have pushed myself as a writer. I have blogged, guest blogged for others, published poetry in magazines, went to conferences, submitted novels to agents, and began more than my fair share of new endeavors. And yet, here I sit … waiting. My son asked me today, “Hey mom, you have one book published and a bunch of magazine stuff, but when are you going to get another book published?” When indeed my dear!?! How is it that we humans are SO good at doing, and SO bad at being? Ambitious and restless, I find that I revert so quickly back to, “Where am I going?” that I rarely look back and appreciate where I have been.

And this is why I think this year’s birthday wish is to be a little more like Audrey. She reminds us that, “The beauty of a woman is not in a facial mode, but the true beauty in a woman is reflected in her soul. It is the caring that she lovingly gives – the passion that she shows. The beauty of a woman grows with the passing years.” Just now, I’m going to believe that she was right, and this is true. I may or may not get published again in the coming year, but I know my passion will continue to light the path of my words. I most certainly will earn myself a few more smile lines (wrinkles) and a few more strands of silver in my hair, (that I will promptly highlight, thank you very much) but I will also take time for long conversations and lingering hugs just because.

This year, I will nurture my best-self. I will polish my soul to shining. I will guard my faith. I will raise my head high and smile at the “what ifs” to come. I will laugh. I will wear dresses. I will step (in heels) toward those who need me. I will wear my heart on my sleeve, and hold the hand of whoever needs mine. I will be, just a little, like Audrey.

All my love darlings,

Elle

8.28.17 Through My Eyes or Yours

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“Let all that you do be done in love.” 1 Corinthians 16:18

As much as I believe in love, I have to admit that this is not the easiest command. I hope you take a moment to laugh with me at this sometimes awesome, sometimes awful, always amazing life. Please take a minute to watch and share your own love stories! Through my eyes, or yours, our perspectives should always be focused on what matters most … one another.

Carry each other through!

Elle