Space Shuttle

Happy 2nd Birthday Aspen

Dear Aspen,

Thank you for joining our family.  You continue to bless my life each day. 

love Mom,

The 3.0 Version of Me

So another decade has flown by which brings on a slew of emotions as I contemplate where I have been and more importantly where I am going. Luckily my twenties surpassed many expectation about falling in love, getting married, graduating from college, working as a teacher, and finally becoming a mother, so it is difficult for me to feel anything but truly blessed.

 I was lucky enough to find a good man. Although the journey to him was often uncomfortable filled with heart ache, sad songs, and wondering if he was really out there. Somehow when I stopped looking I found him. At first glance I had no idea that our roads would one day so intimately intertwine, but within a year we both realized that our friendship was nothing less than extraordinary. Together we made a commitment to each other, our family, and God to continue to love one another.  Hopefully this bond reaches into eternity.

It is difficult to explain a relationship that is still growing and changing, but my husband continues to surprise me with his patience, love, forgiveness, and ambition that somehow brings out superhuman qualities in myself that I always dreamed of possessing.

 I graduated college with a teaching degree and spent six years crafting my art, which was not an easy process as I discovered all my inadequacies. Even in the end I was still terrified that I wasn't good enough. Sadly I think this feeling may take a lifetime to overcome. Somehow among my insecurities I found a simple happiness in watching my students learn and I enjoyed being part of their journey for a while.

Finally I was blessed with a baby that has taught me to love deeper than I thought possible. This feeling is so great that it extends not only to her but everyone that I come into contact with. I go into her room each night  to watch her sleep and to feel for just a moment the true joy of my new responsibility called motherhood.

So as I look forward to the next ten years, I only hope that I can continue to love harder, forgive easier (both myself and others), and live life fuller. That the 3.0 version of myself will only bring me closer to God and the person that I have always wanted to be.  So here's to my thirties.

This Old Guitar

I found it stashed in some dark crevice in our closet next to equally forgotten hobbies that were once my latest obsession.(scrapbooking with paper really?) I drug it out and as I clicked the dusty, brown case open, I finally awoke it from its long hibernation. It was in a sad condition from years of neglect. The strings were worn down and the pitch was off. I couldn't believe this had happened. It used to be another appendage of myself that I would strap on as I stumbled through life.

It took me all morning, but I lovingly put on new shiny strings as the baby's fingers curiously banged, smudged, and plucked every part of this new toy. Finally with a lot of tightening and adjustments I got the sound just right and listened as the new strings vibrated wondering how I was ever satisfied with the awful sound of the old ones?

When it was finally nap time, I dug out my notebook full of songs I wrote in college. Some made me smile, others made me sad, and some were full of memories that I forgot were even there of falling in love, then back out, and in love again.

My soft fingertips burned as I pressed down on the strings. My hand ached as I contorted it into many uncomfortable positions and my head hurt as I tried to remember the different chord configurations that I use to know by heart, but even as I struggled through each song, I was so glad to have resurrected it from the dead. After all it was there for some of my most intimate moments of love, loss, and sadness and probably the best friend and therapist I ever had.

I took this guitar to college in hopes of learning to play and somehow in between classes and homework I found enough discipline to teach myself chords and basic music theory to write songs of my own.

This is when the therapy sessions began. It listened carefully without passing judgment and took notes on my uncomfortable situation called life with all its insecurities, heart break, and failed expectations. After we were through discussing everything, It wrote me out a script in a sweet melody and words that reassured me somehow everything would work itself out, but if it didn't at least I had a great song to share.

Somehow it crossed the line between therapist and friend with ease and it continued on many of my favorite college adventures. Together we stood in front of a row of judges and somehow found the courage to audition for the campus guitar concert. To my surprise we made it and with the rush of excitement played in front of hundreds on several occasions.

It also had impeccable "wing man" skills that helped me get the guys. While at parties it just sat in the corner waiting for me and when the moment was right I placed it on my lap, strummed its strings, and this is where the magic began because men couldn't resist a beautiful girl singing her heart out. Then my good friend waited on the side lines again while I pulled out my charm to secure a date for Saturday night.

And all though I have changed my therapist who's notes sometimes leak onto my blog (oops) and I no longer need a "wing man" (thank goodness! I secured a hot Stanford man ) hopefully I will get my callous fingertips back by recording my memories with my new music software and pounding out songs like "Old McDonald's Farm" and "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" Oh, old friend how I missed you.