Triplicate

Artist: Brian Kershisnik

1. I got a job.

2. I got a job!

3. I got a job?

. . .

1. The straight-forward version is that an incredible opportunity has come up at a terrific national non-profit organization I've long admired. It wasn't the precise timing I was anticipating doing this but it does feel right for our family and we have all felt sweet assurances that it is indeed the thing to do, on many levels and for many reasons. I'll be the director of program research and development and I start Monday. The eventually has arrived, the season for this.

2. It is the exact kind of job I always said I would eventually like to do when people asked "so what are you going to do with that degree, teach?" (I would say something like "I do love teaching but I'd really like to help lead a foundation or non-profit, connecting research and practice to help children and families in innovative ways," not sure if there were, in fact, jobs with all of those elements at once). In fact, I have the eery feeling that someone was secretly taking notes or that my words flew out and become some kind of seedling that cultivated this particular, newly created job. They are paying me to come up with ideas! To have a big-picture perspective! To pilot new programs and innovate and connect the dots...and then hand off those things to someone to do the nitty gritty implementation.

3. And yet. Still, I'm nervous. And terrified. 90% excited (or, honestly, sometimes 74%), but the rest rather terrified. I worry about other people's opinions. I worry about logistics. I worry whether I'm up to the task. I worry worry worry but it's all the kind of uninspired fear that is unhelpful and belittling, the kind you have to tell fear, go sit in the corner until you're more productive. Each concern I've had has been resolved (Oh you want to be home in the afternoons? Sure, you can work an earlier, flexible schedule) but still I ruminate about things, long after the calm, right decision was made. Yesterday morning I expressed some worries to G as he got ready for work. I leaned against the kitchen counter in my pajamas (pajamas! they won't let me wear pajamas to work, will they?) and quietly wailed "what if I'm not doing the right thing?" He looked me in the eyes, kissed my forehead and whispered you're doing the right thing. Which is, of course, just what I needed.

. . .

Just wanted to say that today.

And I'll still be here. Here and here. 

To be continued...

45

Three cheers for G, the leader of our band,

the peach in our pie,

the ink in my pen,

the twinkle in my eye,

the beat of my heart.

45 today.

{p.s. All of my sentiments on other birthdays still apply, too: 43, 42, 41}

. . .

1. yes, he's a studly scout and always prepared. I love that he apparently forgot to take off his shoes before his pants.

2. this is how I first knew him, as a big-brother-type protector and friend in high school, laughing from the back of the bus

3. Woo-woo! Rocking the short shorts on a 50 mile hike.

4. I love it when people remark how much Sam looks like G. As templates go, G is a pretty marvelous one.

Cinema Francais

In 8th grade all of the middle school students in our town construct a building for a French or Spanish or Chinese village, depending on what language they're taking. They draw the building assignment randomly and it is with great seriousness and excitement that the assignments are made and buildings constructed. The towns sit proudly on display in our library for several weeks afterwards.

Sam came home with the assignment to build a French cinema. He knew right away he wanted it to be a corner building with little movie posters and iron balconies. I think it's pretty wonderful. I'd love to live in the top story.

Being the third child does have its advantages! By now we have learned all the little lessons about early planning and lightweight materials and adhesives. Most of all, we know that this is a BIG deal at the school--every year there's a poor kid who, unaware,  builds a lego building and calls it good.  Turns out the bar at our little over-achieving school is a little higher than that.

Lucky for me, G is the chief assistant on these projects and I think Lauren, Maddy and Sam will each have fond memories of the month of evenings spent together with him transforming their visions to reality.  I am so glad this is G's specialty. Give me the task of daily homework oversight and I'll gladly hand big, hives-inducing projects to patient, tool-savvy G.

Speaking of cinema and France, have you seen Hugo yet? We loved it. And Sam was happy to think of his cinema fitting right in.  I just want to know if his cinema serves chocolat viennois because that would make it just about perfect.

. . .

p.s. If you want to take a peek at what G and I will be talking about in one or two decades, here's your glimpse. No kidding.

Lately, my dear

I'm finally feeling like I'm back for real after fighting a post-trip cold for a good many days. And I finally feel like I have both feet in October. The leaves are extraordinarily late turning colors this year so it has still felt a bit like September to me.

I pulled out some of the Halloween decorations. That helped. And I had a birthday on Saturday (I have always loved my October birthday), a lovely day where I went on a long fall walk with Madeleine and Louie, G went grocery shopping with my wishlist, and we all went to lunch. And then I took a delicious birthday afternoon nap. October, you are more real to me now.

Yesterday I was chatting with Lauren on the phone and she asked "so, what's new there?" and I drew an utter and complete blank. It feels like we have kind of groove going and it's boringly (but satisfyingly) placid. No funny stories or mishaps lately. No big epiphanies. But I do feel like I dropped the conversational ball there and owe her a little more of a glimpse of home. So here's my do-over. Here we are, just doing what we do, every day:

Sam reads the paper, quizzes us on current events, practices & composes on piano, figures out more songs on the ukelele. Sometimes we don't know where he is in the middle of the afternoon and find him asleep in his bed with his headphones on and a book open by his side. He's playing basketball and refereeing soccer again this year (and loves the income that generates). I think one of his greatest joys is when I make a planned out, full-on family meal when everyone's home. He's so effusive in his praise and gratitude on those occasions that I really should do it more often. He likes Johnny Cash and is excited that the new Coldplay album is coming out. He just read the new Rick Riordan book over the weekend and re-read The Giver.

Maddy eats a banana every morning on her way to seminary. She's slowly adapting her new room to suit her and can usually be found nestled in her lovesac/chair listening to music and writing letters or reading. She's still that gal who is seminary president and student senate leader and model UNer and Mia Maid class president and assistant violin group teacher. You know, the one who raises her hand to volunteer for everything and has a list of other clubs she'd love to join if she had the time. She loves to take notes and smell good and laugh with friends and dress with flair and eat mashed potatoes and caesar salad (not at all the same time). She just finished The Catcher in the Rye and is now reading Song of Solomon.

As you know, most of Dad's time is spent: 1) working (7:30 to 7), 2) bishoping (bishopping?), 3) being a dad and husband. As you also know, he's a good good man who does all of these wholeheartedly. He plays basketball every Saturday morning with some dads from here in the neighborhood, goes running and makes his own lunches every morning, putters around the garden when he has a few moments to spare. He got a kindle at a work retreat so I'm not sure what he's reading right now since I don't see the cover any more but it's probably a good spy thriller or mystery. 

And you know about me: this blog pretty much covers that. I just read Falling Together and The Night Circus and just started Unbroken. One of my favorite times of the day is after dinner when we all plop on the couches in the family room and read, talk, and laugh. Dad looks through the newspaper and we all catch up on our day and read a chapter or two of scriptures. Louie burrows underfoot and fights for the blankets. Sometimes we watch The Amazing Race or The Sing-Off.  These are especially the times I still look around for you and listen for your laugh.

So, that's what I meant to say when you asked. We love you immensely and, while (as you and I talked about yesterday) things have probably changed a bit for all of us in your absence, there's still a Lauren space right here all the time. xo

Snippets

"No heaven can come to us unless our hearts find rest in it today" ~ Fra Giovanni

1. I'm going camping in New Hampshire tonight with the family.  G and Sam planned all of the dutch oven meals, shopped for the supplies, and packed us all up. Apparently all I have to do is pack my sweatshirt, pajamas, pillow, and toothbrush. Heaven.

2. This morning I sat in the September sun on a bench with a good friend. We talked for two hours and felt the breeze and twinges of autumn. It was so restorative and helped me remember to look upward and outward more. Heaven.

3. I'm giddy with anticipation for a girls' adventure starting Monday. Christie and I are heading out on a long-planned, much-postponed and eagerly anticipated journey to London and Paris for eight lucky days.* (Believe me, I know how lucky I am. Europe? In October? With Christie? For a whole week? Heaven.) My happy dance looks like this:

Note: I don't know about the song's hypothesis about the relationship between wifely ugliness and any subsequent husbandly happiness that springs from it. I just like the dancing, not the message. But, oh, what dancing!

4. What I do know, however, is that I married a terrific man who really is willing to find ways to build bits of heaven for us here on earth. He continues to amaze me with his kindness and support. He not only tolerates my pursuits and wanderings he nudges me to do them, knowing me as he does. Here's to G. Heaven to me.

. . .

*please let me know what your Londan and Paris faves are. I admit I've been to London a few times but I've still got a lot to see and learn about that city. And I've only been to Paris once, when I was 18. What to see/eat/walk/experience?

North

We headed north for a quick jaunt to Vermont this weekend, G and I.  Our fab friends (from back in law school, oh, 19 years ago) are in New England visiting their daughter who's at Dartmouth's debate camp this summer. We jumped at the chance to hang out with them when they invited us to crash their vacation for a blissful day or two.

You've got to love a town with an announcement blackboard, right?^

Such great people. (Hope you don't mind my posting the photo, guys...hey look, I'm in the window. Never let it be said I don't post pictures of myself.) 

Amazing what a 24-hour roadtrip can do for your outlook. Vermont, you did yourself proud.

G generously offered to drive while I put back the seat for a bit and snoozed on the way home in the warm afternoon sun. Our time up north was filled with marvelous views but I think this one was one of my favorites.

True north, that G.

Losing it

G and I went on a romantic date to Costco on Saturday afternoon. I had the keys to the car in my purse so I drove us there while we chatted away about work and our kids and the upcoming summer and other sundry things. You know, like you do. We parked out in the nether regions of the lot since it was an hour before closing and everyone in the Boston metro area had realized they needed bulk toilet paper and mega packs of dog food.

We went in and spent a good 40 minutes amongst the packs of batteries, double sleeves of bagels, containers of blueberries, and bulk candy (for his bishop's office jar, of course). We bought our things, packed them into boxes, and headed to the car. 

We darted around cars and carts and trudged up the hill to the back of the parking lot. As we came closer and our car came into view I said "that's weird, it looks like there's smoke coming out of our tailpipe." We decided maybe the car behind ours was creating an optical illusion. We got closer. "No, there really IS smoke coming out of our tailpipe. What's up with that?" 

It was then that I reached the car and realized IT WAS ON. As in running. I had gotten out of the car, left it running with the keys in it (unlocked) and shopped for close to an hour.  Seriously. Preoccupied doesn't even begin to describe it.  Oy. 

At home, I confessed the whole saga. Kids, go mark this date on the calendar as the day your mom began to lose her mind. 

This does, actually, have me worried about my brain. Please tell me you've done something forgetful + absent minded + loopy? Otherwise I'm going to have to spend the next week googling symptoms of early onset dementia...

Thought bubbles, anyone?

As I was sifting through photos yesterday, I came across this gem taken after our reception:

This is just a trick of the camera, though. She's really not angry. My mom was a Greg fan from the start, supportive through the whole wedding planning and pre-marriage phase. She was happy for us. Right, Mom?

Thought bubbles, anyone? 

Lucky 21

 21 years later...

my love grows

every day

and I still feel like the luckiest.

Love you, G.

. . .

Listen:  The Luckiest ~ Ben Folds  

and (for anniversary authenticity)

Can I have this dance for the rest of my life? ~ Anne Murray*

**Can I Have This Dance was the (unrequested but awesomely quirky) song we danced to at our reception, sung & played by the equally awesome and quirky live jazz/cowboy combo band

All right, enough with the SPOF for now.  

The evolution of the happy dance

Another installment of SPOF*...

Somewhere along the line...

between teasing in the high school halls

(where G was the senior big-brother-type protector and friend

to little old sophomore me),

meeting up during the summer while home from college 

(the musical-chairs summer we started out double dating but with other people as our dates

and ended up the summer happily together),

and this blessed event,

circa February 1990,

I acquired a signature happy dance

that springs forth when I'm happy and elated and excited about life.

It's a funny little giddy move, something like this:

 

Coincidence?

I don't think so.

. . .

 Happy Valentine's Day!

May there be happy dances for everyone!

*sappy posts of February