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I am…

…really wanting this shirt. Beard love!


…starting to feel a little better, although the nausea lingers. Puke.

…devouring “Boardwalk Empire” – SO GOOD!

…pouting over extra poundage. (I know, I know, no one wants to hear skinny people complain that they feel fat, but suck it. This is my blog and I can have fat days too.)

…searching etsy for valentine’s cards for the kids to give out. I hate the cartoony ones.

…wanting to buy this so I can learn Spanish

…still feeling loose and relaxed from a massage yesterday. Nothing like a masseuse with intuitive hands

…trolling cute invitation sites for HJ’s birthday party invites and a lovely friend’s baby shower invites. I heart great paper coupled with exquisite typography. It’s kind of my porn.

…excited to see The King’s Speech tomorrow

…dreaming of our next vacation

…eating Lindt dark chocolate with sea salt. OMG. (see earlier line point about extra poundage)

…looking forward to brunch with my mama and family this weekend

…reading this book and this one too and loving both.

…needing to get my hair cut. I’m starting to look like Cousin It.   


Happy Weekend.


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Start living now. Every day you are alive is a special occasion.
Every minute, every breath, is a gift.

-Mary Manin Morrissey



Feeling really nasty post trip.


The other shoe had to drop, didn’t it?

As always, trying to take it easy and be kind to my aching body. Ugh.

On the plus side, it’s going to be sunny and 56 here today in Colorado. Lovely.

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Rough Re-entry

We’re back.


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                                             view from our house

Post vacation blues are a bitch.

I’m coming out of it slowly, but the return to my life was bumpy. Change is hard. I wanted to sell everything and move to Sayulita. Immediately. All sorts of crazy things were churning through my brain.

Luckily, Peter has become adept at taming my crazies and sweetly brought me back to planet earth.

We don’t have to move there. We can just go again.


Sayulita was magical. That word sums it up. The house was beautiful. Being with my besties was effortless and rejuvenating. The kids were great. The food was beyond fantastic. I FELT GOOD. Alert the presses. Aside from mild fatigue, my body felt great! It was the best vacation ever.

Our house was really beautiful and perfect for 4 families. Aside from the fact that we were up the hill from a Rooster farm (those fuckers cock-a-doodle-do constantly. It’s not just in the morning. Do NOT missing hearing that) everything was superb. We had a great walk into town, including a huge hill so a workout was built into the day, which I loved, as I have to be tricked into working out.

I also loved having my kids experience the laid back vibe of Mexico. The dirt streets with chickens and stray dogs meandering around. A constant smattering of Spanish in the air. Different food. Different culture. More than anything it made me want to travel more. To show them more of the world. Not everyone lives like they do. In fact, most of the world does not.

Life was so much simpler there. I didn’t get online the entire trip. 6 days. I didn’t want to. I did yoga by the pool a few mornings, breathed in the salty air and was grateful for this time spent with people whom I love so much. These girls are like my sisters. There was no drama or tumult. Just togetherness. Free and easy.

We were a little village with 8 adults and 5 kids. We looked after each other and our little offspring. I will say there is something deeply DEEPLY fantastic about having self-sufficient kids who spend the majority of the time in the ocean while I lay under a shaded chair with cocktails.

I drank more beer and ate more meat than I have in the last few years. Explain that one to me?

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             Finny, HJ and the Reidy boys, Gavin and Henry in our driveway

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our little surfer girl

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most pics of Finn are like this. The child does not pose. Too many exciting things going on.

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The big house had a little apartment attached to it, where we stayed.

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stairs up to the big house

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the pool behind the house. Unfortch, it was a little too chilly most of the time to swim.

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The morning after we arrived, I saw these little footprints. They had just painted a wall and I assumed a cat had walked in the paint and down the stairs. So sweet. 3 days later, searching the property for the laundry room, Emily and I discovered twas not a cat at all, but an opossum. It was late at night and dark outside, I saw something move and said “Oh, that must be the kitty.” Em said “Nasty. That’s not a cat.”

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Teeny paw prints are still cute.

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HJ with the most delightful Camille. There was much crafting and playing and coloring.

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Camille and Peter TOTALLY bonded, which Peter loved, as most little kids are freaked out by his beard and bald head. He could not get enough of her.

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It probably goes without saying that this little girl had everyone wrapped around her finger.

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Peter and JR relaxing by the pool.

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This is what the boys were doing most of the time, when they weren’t fully immersed in episodes of Scooby Doo.

I wasn’t really a good picture taker, which I regret now. I don’t have a picture of all of the adults or myself and the girls. It takes a lot of effort to constantly be taking pictures,etc and I was just lazy.

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self portrait. I’m rocking a huge hat, long sleeves and tons of sunscreen.

Adios Sayulita. See you again soon. XO

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Be Still My Beating Heart

Lots going on with my busy heart.

It swells with pride and joy one day at my blue eyed devils, who are so excited for our vacation this week that they leave bits of excitement and delight in their wake. (Sayulita, baby!)

It soars and gets bigger at the magical news of a friend.

It sinks the next with the devastating news from another.

In all three cases, I feel it in my gut, on my skin, in the flush on my face and in my heart.

So many ups and downs in life, sometimes in one day.

It’s hard to catch your breath.

But you do.

Been thinking a lot about my Dad lately too. Not in a melancholy way at all. Well, perhaps a little. The RMP piece of my heart will always be missing. But more in a “what he left behind” kind of way. In a way that makes me smile and feel so grateful for the time that I did have with him.

He left me loving and participating in life, laughing at little ridiculous things, being good to other people, trying to be interested and interesting, and always “checking my equipment.” He also left me an endless mental catalogue of “his music.” (Mario Lanza anyone?)

So, I’m pensive today, thinking about so much.

And sending out my most genuine, heartfelt love to anyone and everyone who needs it.

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Thursday Loves



Hello little squirrels.

Here are some things I’ve been loving lately:

  • the glitter red nail polish on my toes. They were like portable Christmas ornaments all through December.
  • big black crows. They fascinate me and their squawking makes me laugh.
  • wearing hot pink underwear under my usual utilitarian every day black garb
  • my lavender body oil, which leaves my skin supple and me smelling a bit like the Patchouli wearing boys in college I found so irresistible
  • watching back seasons of Dexter
  • the effects of deep conditioner on my locks
  • Crepes with Nutella (let’s be honest, ANYTHING with Nutella)
  • People who hold the door even when you’re more than 10 steps away
  • The bookstore. Everything about it. I feel a sense of panic about only choosing a few books. Almost like at the dog pound, I want to take them ALL home. (I finally chose Patti Smith’s memoir “Just Kids” and Mary Karr’s “Lit” for Mexico, even though I walked around petting Steve Martin’s An Object of Beauty for 20 minutes. I also ordered Poser: My Life in 23 Yoga Poses)
  • Oliver, our puppy, goes to the tub, jumps in and then cries because he can’t get out. Every night. It makes me laugh. I swear I’ve seen Atticus roll his eyes at this.
  • Hadley’s CONSTANT and I mean, CONSTANT, singing. She’s been on a Feist kick lately, which amuses me because she changes the words to all of the songs. She’s also experimenting with her vibrato.
  • The thought of a fresh, new year unfolding before me.
  • practicing yoga regularly. It’s going to keep me out of the looney bin, y’all.
  • Planning our next trip. My wanderlust is out of control.
  • Speaking of wanderlust, we leave for Sayulita soon! So excited. I’ll be the super pale one with two bruised, skinned knees and a massively bruised left foot. I fell down the last two basement stairs putting away Christmas decorations. Idiot. I lay there for a few moments crying, then realized I was going to be ok, so I stood up, dusted myself off and limped off to ice everything.
  • This American Life on NPR. It always makes me think or smile or both.

I hope today brings you a welcome surprise or at least a few things that make you laugh out loud.


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A Sweaty Towel

I went to a class yesterday that I hadn’t been to before. It was a slightly more challenging class but Meg had been assuring me I’d be fine.

Got to the class and had that old familiar intimidation feel, which was welcome actually, as I hadn’t felt it in so long.

The class was packed(damn new years resolutioners) and I had forgotten that this was a heated class and I didn’t bring a towel. I thought “Ah well, I’ll be fine. I’m not a big sweater.”

The sweat started immediately. A fabulous sweat, pouring off of me. It was distracting because I wanted to focus on my practice. Plus, it was making my mat slippery.

After being in child’s pose for some extended breaths in the beginning, I looked up to the top of my mat and there was a white towel tucked underneath the top corner of my mat.

“How sweet,” I thought. “The instructor, Whitney, must have put that there, knowing it was my first time and seeing that I hadn’t brought my towel.”

I wiped myself down and kept practicing.

5 minutes later, to my horror, the woman in front of me leans back and grabs the towel.

“No no! I used that.” I whispered.

“You did?” she said looking a little exasperated, and dripping with sweat.

“I’m SO sorry!” I said.

She shrugged and kept practicing.

The rest of the class, while deliciously sweaty and so invigorating, was plagued by me chastising myself for being such an idiot and hoping I didn’t ruin this woman’s class. It doesn’t take much to ruin a class for me. (Kenny G anyone?)

To punish myself, I didn’t use the towel again, even though she wasn’t going to be using it either.

At the end of class, I lay in savasana for as long as I could, and at one point, peeked to see if when she left, she took the towel. She didn’t.

Then I lay there, turning all Black Swan paranoid, thinking she was talking shit about me in the locker room.

I got up, rolled up my mat and went to the locker room, determined to find her and plead my case.

I found her, naked, standing next to the shower, talking to another fully clothed woman about knee surgery. (side note: I don’t usually engage naked women. I just don’t. But this was an emergency.)

“Excuse me,” I said. “I’m the one who took your towel. I’m so sorry! I hope I didn’t ruin your practice. I honestly thought Whitney gave me a towel.”

She was lovely and so gracious, assuring me it was ok.

I still felt like a total loser.

I can’t wait to get back and sweat. I’m going to get one of these first.

Hopefully, I can practice 4 days a week. It seems to keep lupus happy as well as my soul.

Namaste, MFs. (my friends) I wish you a sweaty new year!

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