Halu-Halo

My Baby Brother...who's 30.

I think I am as much a helicopter sister as I am a helicopter mom. My 30-year-old baby brother is here to visit, and I've had to remind myself more than once that I am no longer his babysitting big sister, and that I should treat him like the grown man that he is (and a military non-commissioned officer, at that). 

But I can't help it. He's still 8 years old to me.

Here are some things I've had to ALLOW for him to do on his own (and completely go against my natural instincts).

1. Cross the street without grabbing for his hand. Admittedly, I reached for it, but he was already across the HELLA BUSY parking lot.  My heart dropped for a split-second, like I'd lost him or something.  

2. Order at the local Korean dive. I did, however, try to steer him to order certain items. To make sure he had a well-rounded lunch, you know? 

3. Drive the shopping cart at the crazy-crowded Asian market. I had to trust, people. I even let him go down a few rows so we could attack the grocery list together. I found him every time, of course. (whew)

4. Pay for his own check. Although, we did have a little verbal scuffle in front of the cashier. I didn't believe that being in the Air Force for 13 years earned him enough money to buy. C'mon, he's only 8! I mean...

5. Work my stove and take over my kitchen. He even sharpened one of my knives. I had to look away; I imagined myself summoning all of my RN skills to stitch him up with my sewing needle and Guterman thread. 

(He made a kick-butt Filipino dish)

6. Teach me how to cook the aformentioned kick-butt Filipino dish. I can't tell you how that totally blew my mind. Like, my little brother knows more than me? How is that even possible? Is that even allowed? 

I can't even talk about it.

7. Make me a drink. An alcoholic one.  I mean, I knew he was a part-time bartender at one point, but in my mind he was playing with kool-aid and plastic cups. Because there is NO WAY he drinks. He's way too young.

8. Teach me how to make the aforementioned alcoholic drink. I HAVE NO WORDS FOR THIS.

 

Tomorrow, I will wake up, and my baby brother will be 8 years old again. That, or I will finally have to face that he has grown up to be such a sensitive, considerate, and good man. 

NoNoNoNoNo...he's eight eight eight.

Head in the clouds... (a photoblog)

...when words just aren't enough...

My feet are now firmly back on the ground after a whirlwind of family time. :)

I hope you have a great week! See you as the dust settles...

 

What a 22-month-old will teach you

It's taking Baby J a little while to get to bed tonight.  No, it's so far not anything like the all-nighter she pulled when she was a baby, thank goodness, but still, a couple of hours have passed and I'm still waiting for her to hit REM.  I've read her usual stories, tried to cajole her into bed by actually getting into the crib with her, and even commanded her with my Mom-voice to "get thee to bed," but she just isn't ready.

When I finally left her room after a half hour of useless begging,  she launched into a sing-song monologue of baby words and giggles.  I can only imagine that she was talking to her Guardian Angel, or maybe to one of her Great-Grandmothers, and she probably told them all about how she stole a piece of chocolate from the pantry and ate it right through the wrapper.  "Mama didn't find out until I finished the whole thing!" she bragged.  "I had it all over my shirt, my face, and my hair."

I didn't want to intervene,  but I had to sneak in to get a couple of shots.  I low-crawled into her room, and reached my camera around the corner of her closet and snapped away.

As the minutes passed she grew quieter, and she's now starting to inch towards her mattress.  I'm betting that it will be only another 10 minutes before her heavy breathing commences.

The lessons from this last week, now inspired to be written (thank you, Baby J).

There are some things just out of your control.

Within challenges, there is light and song.

Rest and relief come, have faith that it will.

Until then, you must do what you can to capture the moment.

 

 

Indoors

As much as I love the sun, and being outdoors, I am equally a recluse.  I don't mind wearing my yoga pants all day, my torso bundled up in a sweater.  I find comfort in the confines of my home, even under my favorite blanket. And I love having the predictability of what's to happen next, the control of what task needs to be completed.

When the weather is warm, the pressure is greater  to be productive outside of the home.  I usually never mind rising to it, the sun is pure temptation, and my energy easily flows outwards.  But because of this, I am antsy inside my home, especially when the kids are over-loud, when its walls cannot keep me from my stretch.    

I find that when I am outside these walls, I miss a few things.  I pass on some of the small mundanes, like rearranging our pantry or deleting the spam emails I receive.  I write a little less, I don't craft as much, and I butterfly my way through the day.  It is all great fun, but admittedly, tiring.

So, on days like this, when it is cold and icy, I receive it with open arms.

On days like this, I can allow myself to look inwardly, without the outside to distract me.  The ice is a reason to halt the normal, and encourage creativity from more limited resources. On days like this, it is alright to move slowly, to be careful.

It is even easier to to be caring, in my opinion, to take stock of everything one has ignored on those sunny days.  Like dusting the tops of doorways and rearranging the papers on my desk.  Or folding fabric.  

 And somewhere in between baking and finding a chore or craft for the children to do, the creative mojo finds its way to surface.  

On days like this, I can hear myself.

Have a safe and wonderful weekend everyone.

 

 

 

Radical in 2012

Hi Friends,

I wasn't sure how I was going to begin this post...it's been churning in my head for days.  I think I'm the last blogger to wish the world a Happy 2012, but the pressure of the first post weighed on my shoulders.  Would I give a recap of my year, the projects I was able to accomplish, the works in progress yet to be completed?  Or would I list my resolutions for the year, with a heartfelt hope that I would be sucessful?  Or maybe post a series of pictures of the highlights of 2011?  

It all didn't seem right for me, for this post to look back.  Well before the year ended, I actually felt that I was coming over a crest, feeling the freedom of seeing what's on the other side.  It was like what I rememebered about running up Stanyan - it was almost better just to keep going until I reached the plateau of an intersection, rather than stop in the middle of the climb to see how far I had gone.

You're probably wondering what in the heck I have accomplished in the last year, with all of this talk about running up an insanely steep hill in San Francisco. Alas, my resume won't show much more than it did from January of last year, except for an extra few miles I logged in, and a few more words I was finally able to get on paper.  But my insides, the real stuff that makes "me", has come through what I call the Fog of 2011.

It has much to do with getting adjusted and readjusted.  The rearranging of the physical priorities within what the family needs, the tweaking of personal priorities in the categories of 'dream' and 'reality', and finally finding that there is a bridge that connects these two things.  It was toting the line in between expectation and radical and then deciding to throw that one foot on the other side and opening my eyes and saying, Wow, why didn't I do that earlier?  

I know!  There she goes with her mumbo jumbo again.  This is why I held back a couple of days to post.  The words are all here, on the tips of my fingers, I am typing as fast as I can so that I don't filter so much of what I mean.

What is all this about?

It's about everything.  Perspective. Baby steps leading to gazelle-like movements. Process. Faith. Rolled up in one and then twisted and turned.  It's knowing myself.  And it's being more brave.  Not just chug-a-chuging up that hill, but really using those legs and my (well-fed) ass to haul myself over, knowing I will be fully out of breath up there.  

No, you won't be seeing me running 8 minute miles, I'm perfectly happy at my 11:30's.  I won't be knocking out a quilt a month, though I'll still be making some very loved items.  And I guarantee that the crazy moments will come, and sometimes I will cry and complain, this is life after all.   This is not about stats, or counting those notches above my bed (which I don't have, lest you think...).  

It's about finding my groove, and 2012 is going to witness it.

I hope the first 4 days of your year has been eventful in some way, even in your quietest moments.  Celebrate it with me.  

 

If I can do NaNoWriMo...

Surely I can get Christmas gifts together in time?  Right? 

(nod with me, please)

I just wound up a couple of skeins for two small knits I'm making for my boys.  I plan to knit them sometime in between quilting, writing, and just plain ol' mommying.  

I've got 22 days.  

What was I thinking starting this late?

Ah, that's right!  NaNoWriMo!  November was completely shot in terms of crafting, and although I have a substantial stack of papers in my posession, Christmas still has to happen, and gifts still need to go out.  And oh, it's also because I have this neverending notion that I have more hours and hands than everyone else in the world.  That the dailies will happen on their own somehow while I try to check things off my gift to-do list.  Either way, I'm delusional, but I'm going to try anyway.

I admit, I can't say no.  To my kiddos, or to myself, because I do love this stuff.  I love making stuff.  I love seeing other people use my stuff.  Maybe THAT should be my mantra, because every almost impossible mission should have a mantra.

And some backup!  For me, it's called Etsy!   And have you seen these talented folks: Kim,  Julia, and Tia? I'm proud to say that they are my friends, and when I'm freaking a week from now, guess who I'll be going to.  Yep...thank goodness for extremely awesome girlfriends.

So, let's cheer shall we?  Gooo Handmade Holidays!  Or patronize handmade, local, and mom n pop!  I know it is not always possible, but if you can gift one thing handmade this season (either bought or made), you would have been able to pass on a lot of love, and maybe in the process remind folks what this season is all about:  

The caring for others through the sharing of oneself. 

Have a great weekend!

New Routine

Hello friends, this morning I finally was able to wake up after a few days of traveling followed by many days of trying to recover from jetlag and a resurgence of my fall allergies.  But, I am here!  And I'm blogging - thank goodness; how I have missed you all so.  

It's been a long couple of weeks, yo.  It involved a trip back to my home state for a funeral, but was actually a culmination of a few big and life changing events for close members of my family.  It took all this time for me to mourn, digest, review, and finally establish a new routine.

It came in handy that I had a couple of tools on hand:

How many minutes have I used asking, acquiring, achieving, taking stock, and working more more and more?  Goal-oriented, self critical, push-through-it-all, by golly, not just bloom where I plant, but want to flower with fruit with my roots embedded deep and far.  You all know me.

Balance.  These last few days, I prayed for balance, and thanked God for my blessings, for even the stains on my shirt when I walked out of my door this morning.  That the world is really small, our time here short, our potential- while infinite- is limited by the hours in the day and the strength in our bodies.  

Acceptance. But still Thankful.

Mind - Body AND Spirit.

Have a peaceful day everyone.

My peeps

This last week was a true summer-at-home week.  Catching up with my friends, taking kiddos to visit theirs, hosting our own moments.  We had a ton of pool time, and even caught some minutes for a kid/husband/caffeine/alcohol-free sugar-filled nightcap with a girlfriend.  

I even got to spend a few hours with The NOVA Modern Quilt Guild.  

And what a true giddiness it was to see them again; to be around folks who appreciate fabric and quilts, and who celebrate the creative spirit.  I brought R with me at her pleading and on the ride home she marveled that there were "lots of mommies who quilt", which I interpret that she thought I was the only one my age who geeked out over these things.

Because writing has consumed me the last few weeks, I hadn't been making huge strides in my crafting, but after an afternoon with my quilting peeps, I realized it may be the muse I crave.  

By Sunday afternoon, I had completed a few more hexagon blocks and Hubby and I caught a home movie before Mass, talking and laughing through most of it.  During dinnertime I shared stories with my kids about their mama as a teenager, and they laughed and laughed thinking of me as a young person. 

My peeps - I cherish them.  They fuel me; I continue to realize that everything is about relationships.  And each interaction is a ripple, the ocean of our world moved by it.  To think one is their own island is faulty; that success is individual - foolish.

I woke up this morning feeling blessed to have them.

Have a great Monday! 

 

Good times

The Halu-Halo residence is happy.  We revel because we have realized that we have to when we can.  Do you feel that way?  Each of our families goes through our own ebb and flow.  There are stressors at every corner, a challenge to overcome, some worst than others.  While I try to stay positive daily, I don't pretend that our life is free of ebb.  

Because without ebb, how do we know how to flow?  How to see the little and run with it.  We, over here, run and race until we perspire and are exhausted.  This is why I write about everything when I can, or take pictures if at all possible.  Capturing the moment, it is bliss.

A couple of great things are happening here at Halu-Halo.  Hubby has reached a professional milestone that is momentous.  As humble as he is, he just smiles and blushes, but I know that he is celebrating within himself.  Praising God.   

And this pile?  Printed this morning, a great part of my little novel, tangible, ready for my first set of edits.  Where will it go - who knows?  Maybe just to my daughters' laps in a few years when they are old enough to read it - that alone will make me happy.  But the fact is, my words are on paper.

We're all flowing with it.  The ebb can wait.

Why I love my girlfriends

I received a package yesterday from one of my BFFs.  When I opened it, a flurry of pink tissue paper greeted me. I tossed them all out in a hurry and soon I was again like a little girl on her birthday, sitting criss-cross-applesause half buried in tissue.

S sent me a handmade card with a picture of her eating one of those massive turkey legs at Disney world.  Her mouth gaping wide wide open, though not barely even covering half of the top part of the drumstick.  Her caption, "Soon girl, you will be eating turkey legs! Get well, soon!"

And in the box, among other things...

I was immediately reduced to a blubbering mess.  

She is genius really, because the other day, I had complained/whined/neuroticized (that's *so* not a word, I know) that I would never get the feeling back in my lips and won't be able to feel the glass I was drinking out of.

After crying half a river out of gratitude for having psudo-sisters, I jumped up and washed my new cup and by golly I brought it ever with me everywhere.  I think I drank more water and juice yesterday than I have in the last couple of weeks.  This morning I don't feel quite as parched, and even a little topped off.

Did she know that all of that pink paper that covered half my kitchen floor was like a big hug from hundreds of miles away.  It was like a fleeting memory of she and I eating pastries in the German village we lived in, strolling our first born children.

I don't have sisters. My girlfriends are like my sisters.  My BFFs - my lifeline.  They bring great humor to the mundane, to the absolute ridiculous. They get past the serious when they know I need it.  The call a spade a heart because they know I can tell the difference. 

I will call her today to thank her since she wasn't home yesterday.  I hope I will be able to tell her how grateful I am to have her.  

Have a wonderful day everyone, and give your BFF a call today!