be the bird

This is why I never get anything done.

My heart was full – to the brim – with good intentions. I was gonna sit down and pay my bills. NOW. No more procrastinating.

Check list. Computer, stack of bills, pen, jacket because I was chilly, let the dogs out on the deck, music on, leftover coffee warmed up, porch windows open, cell phone (texting my kids), new pen (out of ink)… check, check, check

Hmmm. I’m out of my “bill payment sheets”. No problem; just need to run a few copies, so this isn’t an excuse to procrastinate next month. Ya. Right. What is a “bill payment sheet”, you’re wondering…? Well, short story – my organized alter ego coming through. A little Excel thingie I created years ago that I fill in each month with each payee and the amounts, dates, confirmation numbers… I love charts and graphs and columns. You see, in my mind I am a very organized person. Somewhere in the follow ,through, is where it seems to fall apart.

So off I go into the hubbies office where we have our printer. This stupid machine seems to take forever to warm up. I decide to spend my waiting time getting a closer look at our bird families that are currently renting space on our front porch. So off I go in search of binoculars. Surprisingly, this proves to be a rather simple step. For some reason, they are exactly where they are supposed to be. Weird.

What happened next was quite unexpected. Above the right column was our mama dove. She is a regular. Must have about 100 babies by now. Poor exhausted thing. As I focus in on the nest I see little pieces of my front porch planter, woven throughout… You’re welcome, Mama Dove. Just help yourself. “A mamas gotta do what a mamas gotta do.” (Feel free to quote me) As I divert my gaze over to the left and focus in on the second column, I see the other mama bird. But she is not a dove. She is a little sparrow…? I guess. I dunno. She is tiny, and definitely not a dove. I think she is a sparrow. Whatever. Here’s the point of the story.

It was at that very moment that I envisioned world peace.

Here were these two mama birds, living side by side, coexisting peacefully. They were not the least bit concerned that they were different colors, or had different markings. One was 2-3 times the size of the other. No worries. Their voices; their songs – so very different. Not a bother. No judgement. No prejudice. They were simply and respectfully doing what God had asked them to do with their lives. So the “take away”? I dunno. Maybe “Be the bird”. Ya. I know. I hear your thoughts. It’s simplistic and ~~a bit~~ naïve, I admit -But, OH, what a beautiful thought…

The printer is screeching and spurting ugly sounds, catapulting me back to the here and now. The printer is warmed and ready for action. I, reluctantly, set down the binoculars and move forward. I simply must stop procrastinating and pay these stupid bills. But first… I need to take this jacket off because I’m sweating, let the dogs in and close the porch windows because it looks like rain, re-warm my coffee that’s now stone cold – Oh, and lookie – a text from the kids…

“Be the bird”

live happy… cathy

“my word”

2 / 1 / 15

book dandelions — Source: Eqinox/We Heart It

I finally decided on “my word”. For 2015. My word is “chapters”.

Whew! I mean, here it is, February 1st. Already. That means I existed the entire first month of January, 2015… with no word. What? How? OK. Here’s the deal. I didn’t want to just grab any random word; and call it MY word. I had to ponder. And dwell. And stress. Now I probably shoulda coulda woulda started this process a little earlier, but to be quite honest with y’all (my son moved to Dallas. Gotta do that y’all thingie every once in awhile now…), I DID NOT KNOW we had to have “a word”. Yep. I’m just being really honest here. I just didn’t know. Did you know? Ya. You probably did. My friend Dawn has a word. (Click HERE) And she had a word last year as well. She just kinda “knows” these things tho…

“What’s the greatest chapter in your book? Are there pages where it hurts to look?”

A couple lines from one of my fav Blake Shelton songs… Truth is, I have always looked at my life as a book, and every single chapter in “my book” has made me the very person that I am today. The good, the not so good; accomplishments, defeat; amazing triumphs and overwhelming heartbreaks; over-the-top joy, and excruciating pain. It is all me. It is my book. Those are my chapters.

2015 promises to be a big year for me. As it stands now, I will be writing many new chapters throughout the year. And closing others. Case in point, I started the year off by closing the longest running, absolutely hands-down greatest chapter in my “book of life” thus far… The chapter dedicated to raising my (amazing) kids. You notice I did NOT say the chapter dedicated to “Motherhood”. Oh no, no, no. I know better than that. There is no “one chapter”; no “end” to the privilege of Motherhood. My kids will ALWAYS be my kids, and I will ALWAYS be their mom. Nothing will ever change that. EVER. Yes; there are many levels, and chapters, to Motherhood. But the reality is, I am done “raising” my children. They are both almost 25 years old now. Adults; living and working on their own. But I must be honest in telling you, it hurt like crazy to turn that page. To leave behind that amazing chapter and move on.

“What’s the greatest chapter in your book? Are there pages where it hurts to look…?”

2015… Stay tuned.

live happy… Cathy

children are like kites

4 / 21 / 14

Morning came early today. And it’s Monday. Not just any Monday, though. It’s the first Monday of (yet another) brand new chapter in my life. I’m not even sure what to call this chapter just yet. And I’m not really sure how I feel about it either. Love it? Hate it? At the end of the day, probably a mixture of both.

My daughter left this morning on an early flight to the east coast. For business. After four weeks of training, this is her first official business trip. Of many! Wow. My arm felt like lead as I tried to wave goodbye. Her tail lights burned through the darkness, and then disappeared. Turning to come back inside, I saw “it”. THE poem. It has been on our refrigerator for a hundred years (give or take). I have shared this poem with many over the years. Mostly requested by other moms. When we got a new refrigerator we moved the old refrigerator out to the garage. The poem stayed intact. It’s funny though. I am in and out of the garage a million times a day, but never really “see” the poem. It’s just there as part of the refrigerator, I guess. But not this morning. No. This morning it was different. It was as if “THE poem” was covered in flashing neon lights, bells a’ringin… I stopped dead in my tracks to read it.

The garage door slammed shut. I felt the darkness all around me. It was quiet. So very, very quiet. The hum of the refrigerator seemed almost deafening. She is officially all grown up. Out the door and off to new adventures, challenges, experiences. It’s a solo flight for her; realistically and figuratively. Flights, rental cars, hotels… The real world; the unknown. Is she ready for everything? Definitely. She is a strong, smart, confident young woman who can handle anything. To say that I am proud – Well, that barely even scratches the surface of how I feel. Yes. I am VERY, VERY PROUD…!! But I am also a little sad. For me, not her. I am just not very good at this whole “letting go” thing. At all.

But… her time has come. “Time to soar, as she was meant to soar, free and ALONE. My job is done.”

“Children Are Like Kites”

“I see children as kites. You spend a lifetime trying to get them off the ground.
You run with them until you’re both breathless.
They crash.
They hit the rooftop.
You patch and comfort. You adjust and teach. You watch them lifted by the wind and assure them that someday they will fly.
Finally they are airborne…
They need more string and you keep letting it out.
But with each twist of the ball of twine,
there is a sadness that goes with the joy.
The kite becomes more distant,
and you know it won’t be long before that string will snap and the lifeline that holds you two together will no longer be the same.
A child, as a kite, must be prepared to soar, as they were meant to soar, free and alone, to the greatest extent possible.
And only then can we collectively say that we have done our job.”

– Author unknown

quiet time

4 / 18 / 14

Every Good Friday when we were growing up, my mom had a rule. Between the hours of 12:00-3:00, we were required to have “quiet time”, alone in our rooms. A time of quiet reflection during those hours when Jesus would die on the cross. As a mom of two adult children, I now have a new perspective.

First of all, you have to know my mom. She is funny. She has been known, at times, to maybe “stretch the truth” a little (?)… but it’s always funnier when she tells the story. She pulls her grandkids to the side and tells them outright, “Grandma lies.” They laugh. One of my brothers will roll his eyes (usually the dad of the one listening to Grandma’s story), and we move on. OK – So back to the subject… our “time of reflection on Good Fridays“.

Some of you may remember from earlier posts that I am the oldest of seven kids. When I was 10 years old, my mom was 29 and had five kids; me being the oldest. (Good news! Found a family pic from our church directory to capture just that moment in time… That’s me to the right of my mom – Ha!) So when Good Friday rolled around, off to our rooms we went. At 12:00. Until 3:00. To be really honest with you, I can’t really remember much of what we did during that time. My mom told us that it would rain at some time during that three hour stretch, so my sister and I (shared a room) would spend some of the time lifting the heavy shade on our window to peer out and search for those ominous, rain producing, clouds… One thing I DO remember (unfortunately), because she did it all the time. My sister always had more money than me; and she liked to count it. Out loud. Coin, by coin, by coin… She had me as an unwilling, yet captive, audience for three hours. Lucky her. Looking back, I have to laugh. I realized as an adult, that as kids, we actually had “quiet time” a lot!! Not just on “Good Friday”. You see, my mom was also very smart. And resourceful. She was merely attempting to maintain her sanity. That was why she would slip off to the bathroom with her coffee and a weeks worth of magazines. We would hear the “click” as the door locked behind her. The rule…? Don’t knock unless someone is bleeding. Bad.

I was (doubly) blessed with twins when I was almost 30, and they were, and still are, such a joy in my life!! In raising our kids, my husband and I made a conscious decision to pick and choose the pieces of our individual childhoods that we wanted to take forward with our own children. Kind of like combining really dark chocolate with… well; just about anything! It’s all about the mixture. “This” worked; “that” – Ummm… not so much. So guess what made the cut from my childhood? Yep. “Good Friday quiet time”. 12:00-3:00. They could read, work on puzzles, quietly listen to music (pre-appoved; by me!). There was no TV, radio, computer, phone or friends during that time. And they were fine with it really. The older they got, the more they understood why there were being asked to do it. It was a way for them to, hopefully, prepare their hearts for Easter Sunday.

So, Mom – if you’re reading this – you will be glad to know that I still, to this day, honor that quiet time every Good Friday. I usually plan a quiet “project”; something that I can do by myself, at home, without really thinking. Today is no exception. It is a beautiful day and the birds are chirping like crazy. Not a rain cloud in sight… I have selected a “project” (more on that later) and I am ready to put on some beautiful music and spend the time reflecting. Quietly. 12:00 until 3:00…

my little girl

3 / 28 / 146 / 4 / 17

I woke up one week ago, on a Thursday morning, with a lump in my throat.

It had been a long, sleepless night; so many thoughts rolling around in my heart; so many memories. Sesame Street and tea parties. Beanie Babies and Disneyworld. Time had flown by so very quickly. Like a blur, really. An “over-the-top” happy, wonderful, “I am blessed” kind of blur. I stumbled out of bed hoping that coffee might clear the brain fog. Thought of the day: Reality is overrated. The truth is, I much prefer a world of happy disillusionment (is that even a word?). My baby is growing up. Her first day of first grade. Kindergarten was hard enough, but first grade would be all day. What would I do without her? She had laid out her clothes the night before and her backpack was waiting near the door. Her bedroom door opened and down she came, so ready to greet the day ahead. She looked so beautiful. So grown up. The coffee was strong, and the fog was starting to lift. Or was it…?? My eyes tried to focus on the “Tweety Bird” backpack sitting by the door, but my vision was blurred. Wait. Was that actually a leather briefcase and a name badge? I blinked. I blinked again. Hard. A single tear rolled down my cheek…

My little girl was all grown up, and headed out for her first day in the business world. A “big girl job”!! It was HER day. A day she deserved; a day she had EARNED. As a little girl, we always said she was our feisty little tiger – and she still is. It has served her well over the years. When life threw obstacles in her path, she never let them get the best of her. She rose to the challenge each and every time, and slayed the dragon. That girl of mine is one tough cookie, let me tell you! She is smart, determined, personable and one heck of a hard worker. As her mom, we traveled much of that road together. The ups, and the downs. She has taught me much about life. And love. And happiness. Today I stand in awe of the woman she has become. I am blessed to be her mom. “A daughter is the happy memories of the past, the joyful moments of the present and the hope and promise of the future.” – Author unknown

Little girl in a pink tutu with a sassy little spirit… or a beautiful young woman in “business casual” with a confident smile?

I guess for me, she will always be both.

This beautiful song is for my mother, daughter, and someday, perhaps, my daughter’s daughter… with love xo

[youtube http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eLS0Y40WwlA&w=420&h=315]

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=eLS0Y40WwlA

live happy

mama quotes

8 / 31 / 12

So today is for all of the mamas out there… Motherhood is, by far, the greatest gift that I was EVER given. Even though my babies are now 22, they will always be “my babies“.

It’s been a rough month for me, as you know if you have been following this blog. Today, though, is different… My baby girl is coming home for the holiday weekend – and I am so excited to see her!! We didn’t get to see her much this summer, and I SO missed her…

Yep. Today is a GOOD day!

this little piggy went to market…

6 / 20 / 12

I always wanted to be a buyer.

I went to college and majored in Fashion Merchandising with an (almost) minor in business. I pictured myself working for some well known chain of classy stores, traveling throughout the United States to various markets; wrapped up in the hustle and bustle of my crazy, exciting, cutting-edge career… OK. So maybe that’s not exactly how it all worked out. Upon graduating, I spent the next eight years in retail management; aside from the two (glorious) years that we lived in London. It was then that I entered into the career of a lifetime…(literally). The job was simply titled – “Mom”. The years to follow were, and continue to be, the best of my life. Nothing prepared me for the sheer magnitude of motherhood. Being the oldest of seven kids sure helped – but I had no idea how much I would really love being a mom to my two kids. It was, in all sincerity, the career of my dreams.

Kids have this terrible habit, however, of growing up. When my twins turned 12, I started my own little home business called “Creations (by cathy) so that I would have something for myself, especially when the (dreaded) moment came for them to leave for college. (In retrospect… one of the smartest things that I have ever done!) Back in 2002, we still had a Market in Kansas City. I can still remember the thrill and excitement of “going to market” for the very first time!!! I think that I probably just sat in my car and squealed like a little piglet before I went in. I was just SO excited!! That market has been gone for quite a while now, and I have had the opportunity to attend Market in Denver, Chicago (twice), Atlanta, and now, Dallas. Arrived in Dallas yesterday afternoon so that I could spend the evening chit-chatting over sushi with a niece who is currently living here in Dallas. We laughed and talked and wined and dined. Solved all the world’s problems… and then some (love ya, sweetie!)

The Dallas Market (click link) opened this AM – so when the wake-up call wrestled me out of a deep, dark sleep at about 6:45… I stumbled to the shower (Via the coffeemaker. Regular.) and began my day. Over the next 12 hours I would sit down exactly three times. Five minutes for breakfast and 10 minutes on the shuttle bus to Market and back. “Lunch” is defined as “food that the Reps often put out to entice you to stay in their showrooms”. It is free, it may (or may not) be something that sounds good and it does not involve sitting. Yep. This is what I love. It’s that crazy hustle, bustle “thrill of the hunt” feeling that I dreamed of right after college. (There was just an ever-so-slight “delay of game” getting here.) And the hunt is even more exciting and challenging this time around. I am truly “starting over” at this Market in a fresh, new direction – shabby chic, feminine,”cottagey”… and often with a French accent! Everything that I love!! Woo-Hoo!! I am truly like a little kid going to Disney World! Today was wonderful. Now it’s time for a little “beauty rest”. Still have another 2 1/2 days in “The Magic Kingdom”, and I certainly don’t want to have dark circles under my eyes if I run into Minnie Mouse!