"How do you do it?"

We are asked this question a lot.
With him doing what he does and our having three kids, we are often asked
"how do you do it?"

Mostly we just laugh it off and say we could tell them but we'd have to kill them but lately I am kinda wondering the same thing. It is insane the amount of time we are not together. It is crazy how much he misses and how much I do alone. CRAZY! But you know, I don't feel bad for him or myself. We are a team, if nothing else. The day to day just turns into a machine or maybe we are the machines... days turn into weeks and sometimes months when we are apart and in the end, it all works.

That moment when we arrive at the baggage claim, waiting for him to come up or down the escalator. That is why we do what we do. That is why it is worth it. Our kids aren't thinking of the time they couldn't fall asleep because they missed him so much. They aren't thinking about the ballet class he missed or how they missed eating his perfect omelets every morning (I make a shit omelet).
The moment they see his face they are only elated that he is home. Long gone is the chalkboard count down in Quattro's room and the morning explanation to Elvis of "how many more days?" are gone. When I see them see him, that is my happiest moment. I think it is my first big exhale since I held my breath the day he left... I have to flip a switch or I fear I won't be able to do it again. I know he does too. It is not easy for him to leave while Zeke is crawling and to come back to him walking. My heart would break, his thaws out when he gets home. I don't think he lets himself get sad or in that space of missing things.

It all works, however it does is sort of beyond me. I spend my days waking up to them and enjoying the space of time before we go to bed, to wake up and do it all again.

It's good. I don't take it for granted that I get to be here with them all day. I love the fact that I can be here waiting for our son when he gets home from school. The little kids are napping and we get to hang out and I can listen to him. He can tell me about his day, talk about how shitty middle school kids are and we can just hang. I'm not unfulfilled in my role. It is my best work ever and I know I don't get to do it forever.

Vlog

So we are doing it. My guy and I are doing our first podcast and it is really fun.
I almost hate to talk about how much I enjoy it because it makes me feel like I am being too... I don't know. You all know the people that do shit that only involves or revolves around themselves?
I hate when people talk about amazing things that ONLY benefit them.
Shit, maybe this is a bad thing for me...
I have thought my whole life about this sort of thing
I have had friends forever that do and say things that are only good for them. That don't involve or evolve and I am just not that kind of girl... maybe this makes sense to no one but me.
Anyway,
the podcast, the family blog spaghettifamily.com it is all for our next journey. You may or may not know that my family and I are going to take this shit on the road at the end of the year.
We are packing our belongings away and we are going to live in a trailer for a year, to travel and be together as a family. Maybe mainly to do an experiment but really, in my heat to be together... but I know it is not going to be easy. I hope in the end they know it was for them.
It is going to change our lives and more importantly our children's lives, forever and that is really important to me. I mean, I know what the day to day can bring them if we stay here in the 206 but if we let ourselves see the world and do what my husband is doing, we could give them something we can't sign them up for. Sure, we will miss Little League and ballet but I think we will get so much more.
So look us up.
Subscribe to spaghettifamily.com and look for our podcast on itunes.
Spread the word and lets do something cool, for everyone.

Follow your... err... dreams?

Growing up I had a pretty good life. It was decent.
I had a really amazing family but you know, the nuts and bolts were pretty good.

Divorce, check!
Three bedroom house in the valley, check!
Neighborhood shenanigans, check!
Problems in school, check!
Adulthood met kicking and screaming, check!

But as I am in my 30's and raising 3 children, one who is 13 now- I am curious about what my "dreams" were... as a youth, growing up in middle america.
What did I want to "be"?

I have no idea.

My husband and I joke about what we want to be when we "grow up", knowing full well we should be just that already. Sure we are in the throws of "Teen Mom" and all that good stuff but really with a spouse, a house and kids- growing up is upon us.
We are, as they say, in the throws of it.

So what does that do for my childhood dreams? I mean, I guess I didn't make it.
He did. He has only wanted to be one thing and he is it. He is an enigma.

There's a quote by Bukowski that I have always loved, it sort of made me feel better about the whole childhood dream. Maybe it has nothing to do with childhood, maybe it is the thing in us we finally find we love.

"Find what you love and let it kill you."

Alrighty then.

Have you seen my hat?

As I sift through my list of things I gotta do, I am realizing that lately I am wearing a LOT of hats.
Actually we all are. And I mean ALL of us.
I am guessing all families do. Working families that try to spend most of their time together (when they can) have to.

Today we are recording Quattro's "Vacation" song to use for our little video project.
This is a song he wrote for me for Mother's Day. It is such a great song, he sang it at a friends memorial and now we are using it for a new project. I am so excited to let people hear it. For the masses to hear it. It's simply amazing and eerily mature.

We are digging deeper into this adventure of ours. We are stopping at nothing in order to make this trip anything but ordinary... as if it would ever be. Elvis is doing a voice over for the video. Hearing her read lines is really quite sweet.

So while we all take off our production hats and I my writer/videographer hat, we will put this day to bed and let the evening flow like it do. Family walks and dinner will slide into evening baths and bedtime stories.

We all need our beauty sleep, as tomorrow it's time for our close up!
(much more on that later)

Happy New Year!

So it happened. We are now living in 2014.
To say I was born in the 70's is like admitting I am a relic.
Although I realize I am not, but still, don't you feel old?

This past year is something of a blur.
I know that a big part of this feeling is that my husband was gone for most of it.
My youngest turned 1, my daughter 4 and holy shit, Quattro is 13!
A lot has happened and all in all it was a good year, but I am glad it is gone.

Reflecting is something I do often but really, I try to just move forward.
Last year, with my daughters near drowning I feel like looking back on 2013, that is the thing that comes to surface. I know that there are so many amazing moments, Zeke's first words and first steps... but really, the pool flashes in my head and I just try to look forward.

This next year will bring so many changes for our family. We are preparing for a HUGE move.
We will be packing up our house and going on the road for a year and I gotta say, I am so ready.
I am looking forward to doing something new. I have this down, the living in a house and getting kids to school, baseball, ballet. I understand all that goes into this part of life but next year will not only bring new beginnings, it will teach us all a new way of life.

We are surrounded (especially after Christmas) by hundreds of toys, books and games- next year we will learn to entertain ourselves on very few things like this. I wonder what it will do to their desire to consume as adults. Maybe they are too young now to take any of this with them but at the very least I hope they thank us for putting ourselves out there to do something different.

Turning the grey back into black and white. Pt. 1

At 37 years old, I feel like I can finally get a grip on what "it" is all about and I have to say, that I am one of the lucky ones.

I would like to write a series of entries about this topic, as it is long and sometimes ugly- sometimes beautiful too. But I would like to step into the world that no one ever talks about, that is until they are stuck dead in the middle of "the grey".

There is a moment in your life as a woman (maybe men too but I'm not so sure) that you realize you have no idea who you are. This isn't when you are 18 and moving away from home, or when you are 21 and you are moving back.
It isn't even when you are in your 20's and you are graduating from college (did you finish? not the point). It isn't when you get married or have your first (3) kid.
This moment I am speaking of isn't about age or wealth or time or anything like that. It is this moment when you look at yourself in the mirror and everything you have come to know, love, hate, relearn, accept, change- is completely foreign.

You are in the grey.

IF you are lucky you will find your way back to the black and white days. The days when you are owning what you are doing and enjoying the journey, having good days and bad days but you aren't drowning, you aren't constantly searching out what it is "you do".

I had the grey and there was a point when I really thought I would just be forced to deal with it and maybe I will be back there one day. But I am convinced that knowing what makes me "tick", the thing that I "do".
It's not being married or having kids, those are the things that I love but what I am good at is a different journey. I'm not finished. I am not in vivid color, I sort of think that would be perfect and I don't believe in perfect. I think perfect is boring and I don't need that. But to know what it is that I want and to have a journey set in place- even if it changes a million times throughout my life.
Sobeit.

How their death shows your salt.

I am not writing about the death of a movie star this morning.

I am not writing about the death of a friend or relative. 

I am writing about the death of a human.

Yesterday, like much of the world, I read the sad news of Paul Walker's death.

I was instantly sad with the sight of his picture that was attached. It was a somber photo. He was looking down and had a smirk. I was sad about his death, the untimeliness of it all... 

About 10 days ago I lost a friend. 

My neighbor of 10 years.

He was not only my friend but he was a son, a husband and a Father. 

He was an eye, I always felt, watching over my house and my family when my husband was away. 

He was the man that we smiled and and waved to on a weekly basis. 

He was always smiling.

He worked on his boat and smoked the salmon that he caught, always sharing. Always smiling.

The sudden passing of my friend, 54 years young, has kept me in a constant state of worry. 

I worry about my own mortality. I worry about my husband. 

What would he do without me? Or worse yet, what would we do without him?

I am sad and in a somewhat dark place, as death tends to lend itself to the dark side. I am coping though. Remembering the good, trying not to focus too much on the fact that I will never see him again.  That his children will be without him. His beautiful wife. Her sadness is my sadness. I will be a good friend to her, even though I am paralyzed to help. I can do nothing to make her feel better. I can only be her friend and that will have to be enough- for both of us.

Before going to sleep last night I couldn't believe the jokes and rude comments about Paul Walker's death. There were people who were actually saying his death didn't matter. There were "friends" of mine that were writing about what they believed to be unjust shock waves- "if it had been De Niro".... seriously, I read that.

People are attempting to make jokes about the Fast and Furious movies, how he wasn't a good enough actor to be sad over. 

My stomach turned and I got really really angry.

What if this was my neighbor? What if someone wrote that about my friend?

That is the way it felt, because Paul was someone's neighbor. He was someone's son and friend and he was someone's Father. 

Would these "friends" say this about their neighbor? How they weren't good enough to be remembered? I can't say that they wouldn't. I can say that they are no longer people I associate with because I can take a lot, I can read ridiculous political opinions and still be your "friend". You can talk about Obamacare all you want, or the war or the GMO's. You can ask me to support something I don't believe in, you can talk about your God. I can really see the difference in all of us. I can accept, not support, a lot of things but I cannot accept, support or even be remotely associated with making light of someone's death. 

They are dead. 

They are gone.

Never coming back. 

Not to be in anymore movies, or smoke anymore fish.

RIP