other valentines

This week I've been crushing on other things in addition to my man and babe.

:: sequin shirts
:: Brooklyn Nine-Nine
:: hot cocoa (obviously)
:: overcast days
:: the Test Kitchen
:: sugar cookies
:: chocolate sugar cookies
:: toddler hugs
:: Neil Caffrey
:: my Bose Mini Soundlink
:: pink everything
:: chevron blankets
:: sequin slippers
:: my polka-dot Zinnia skirt
:: back episodes of Books on the Nightstand
:: audiobooks
:: regular books
:: stretchy pants

What are you crushing on this Valentine's Day, romantic or otherwise?

why we work

I'm linking up this post to Bonnie's blog!

{2013 family photos, Laughing Stars Photography}

I was listening to the This American Life episode this week, and they were replaying various Valentiney segments from years past. This one particular story is one the show has played for the past two years (sidenote: TAL, come up with something new for 2015, yeah?). The reporter interviewed a guy who had taken a rumspringa with his long-time girlfriend. The girl didn't want to get married until they had slept with other people, and so they took a month-long break and hooked up with as many people as they could. Frankly, I think that whole idea is awful. Unsurprisingly, the couple broke up.

In follow-up questions, the guy said that if he ever does get married, he wants reevaluate the relationship every seven years and then recommit if he wants. He thinks that the seven-year plan will make it so he can re-choose his marriage. That idea is also awful. Because here's the thing: if you want love, you choose it every single day.

{Engagement photo, Laughing Stars Photography}

Josh and I work because we choose to work. We work because we work to work. We work because we don't want an out--we work because we are eternally committed.

We work because he takes out the trash and I make his lunch.

We work because we both say sorry.

We work because I rock Asher in the night and Josh lets me sleep in on Saturdays.

We work because we cuddle in the mornings and kiss before bed.

We work because we know how important this marriage is. We work because we promised God--and each other--that we would.

{Wedding day, Michelle Olivier}

Every day Josh and I choose God, and we choose our marriage and our family. Love--real love--is hard won. When love is easy it's really, really fun, and we may be tempted to think that fun love is the important kind. But love is most important--and most soul-saving--when it's really, really hard. What good is love if it can't weather storms? What good is love if it can't power us through our ugliest moments? Josh and I work because our efforts are continual, because we choose to try again and again and again. We don't work because it's easy or because it's always fun--we work because we love. 

*This post is in no way passing judgment on people who are divorced or otherwise single. Relationships take two people to work, and sometimes relationships need to end for our good. It's no one's job to pass judgment on a couple's decision to break up or divorce. All working relationships--romantic and otherwise--require the decision to love.

crushing and linking

I was going to talk about celebrity crushes today and how my celebrity is gorgeous and gay, so even in an alternate reality, this crush wouldn't amount to much of anything besides turning into a rom-com parody about that girl who's in love with her best friend but that friend happens to be gay. In a movie with Matt Bomer playing himself, I'd be the beard.

So I was going to write this witty post all about celebrity crushes, and how my celebrity girl crush is JLaw and Josh's boy crush is Ewan McGregor. But really there isn't much of a post there beyond adding some pretty photos. (And really, who doesn't have a crush on JLaw?)

Today I'll leave you with some lovey links to past Valentine's posts, because my brain is currently sputtering on fumes.

You can read about what Valentine's Day looked like for me last year.

And you can read a series of posts about mine and Josh's love story. Sometimes I'm still amazed that the two of us actually worked out.

Check out this post including Harry Potter Valentines, the best of all the Valentines, obviously.

This is a very short post from 2012 about imperfect love.

And this post is where I detail my rejoicing at deciphering Josh's love language, because let me tell you, I'm a love languages believer.

Of all those links, I'd most recommend the love story one. Of all the love stories out there, I've got to say that mine and Josh's is my favorite one.

how Portland does snow

It's no secret that I harbor a measure of derision for Portland's "snow" days. Coming from a place where I had to go to school after two feet of snow fell overnight, it's hard for me to muster excitement for school children who get a snow day for frost. But that's just the way it is here, and even after 8ish inches of snow fell last week, I have yet to see that one snowplow Wilsonville allegedly has.

Snowfall like this comes to Portland about once every five or so years, and I'll be honest: I loved it. With legit snow being so rare here, it was nice that the whole area shut down. Josh came home early from work Thursday and Friday, and I did lots of baking and cocoa drinking. On Saturday we drove to Josh's parents' so that Asher could sled down their driveway, and on our drive we saw people out everywhere. Not many cars were on the road, but there were kids and adults alike bundled up, carting sleds, throwing snowballs, and building snowmen.

Snow comes so regularly to Denver that it rarely produces such a communal thrill. As a kid of course I'd have my mom help me with my snow pants and parka and boots and gloves and hat just so I could play in the snow for 20 minutes. We made snow men and even went sledding a time or two. But life had to go on, otherwise our whole winter (and a good chunk of spring and fall) would be snow days. Here in Portland, though? Life is paused for a time, and even this Rocky Mountain girl will admit that's pretty fun.

So yes, I may never stop scoffing at the minimal amount of weather it takes to constitute a Portlandian "snow" day, but when those snow days are real snow days? Portland sure knows how to do them right.

a perfect day for cocoa

Want to brave the weather and come over for some cocoa? 

Yesterday Portland got some real sticking-to-the-ground, piling-up-on-cars, big-snowflake snowfall. This is literally the most snow I've seen in Portland since moving here three and a half years ago. This snow snob approves.

So head over, and I'll have the cocoa ready. 

What kind of cocoa do you want? My current favorite cocoa concoctions are Safeway-brand cocoa with York Peppermint Pattie creamer. When you have the dark chocolate cocoa, the creamer makes your drink taste like a Thin Mint.

Speaking of, I ordered three boxes. Of Thin Mints. Obviously. Every year the boxes get smaller and the prices remain the same, and every year I'm suckered into buying those over-priced delicious treats. Perhaps I'll have to try dipping Thin Mints into my Thin-Mint-like cooca. Whoa. What's your favorite Girl Scout cookie? I mean, you have to have a favorite.

Has it been snowing where you are? It seems like it's been snowing all over the country lately. Josh came home early yesterday because of the snowfall, and we bundled up Asher and took him out to play.

He loved it. Obviously. That's no surprise.

Can I tell you about how much I love Josh as a dad? Seriously, those two make my heart just melt. Even in the snow. How is your family doing? Your husband? Your children? Marriage and family are hard sometimes, and it's okay if you don't feel like you have it all together. Because chances are we're all doing a little bit better than we think.

What do you think of my tablecloth? I found it at Target on clearance for $6.50, so I bought it. Having a tablecloth on the table somehow makes me feel like I earned bonus housewife points. My mom always has a tablecloth out, and I think I need some more to feel legit. My grandma had the biggest tablecloth stash you could imagine. Are you a housewife? Do you like it? What earns you extra domesticity points?

What's on your Netflix queue these days? Believe it or not I don't have a TV show I'm bingeing on currently. Once I wrapped up Chuck I just haven't been in the mood to find something new. I've been reading a lot, and I like that. I'm really enjoying my Stephen King novel, and I'm almost finished with this book by Sheri Dew. And I have access to my dad's Audible account, so that's awesome. Obviously.

The snow gave me permission to stop counting Weight Watchers points this week so that I can enjoy M&Ms, homemade bread, and extra mugs of cocoa. Isn't that considerate?

The snow is falling heavy now, so you might want to head home since Portland doesn't exactly have a huge supply of snowplows. Getting around in even a mild snow storm can prove dubious in these parts. After you leave, I think I'll hole up in my sewing room and work on that jacket some more.

Thanks for stopping by! And thanks for looking at what is essentially the same picture over and over. I just can't get enough of that kid in puffy snow clothes. Also, I really love our cocoa dates. I'm so glad we're friends.

my village

When Josh and I went to DisneyLand, Asher stayed with Josh's parents. The day we left, however, his parents were working all day and we had to be at the airport mid-afternoon. So I arranged for Asher to stay with a friend. When I dropped him off, my throat choked up and my eyes welled with heavy tears. This was the first time I'd ever been apart from Asher for more than a few hours, and I was nervous about it. And though I was nervous, in my heart I knew my boy would be just fine. Because Josh and I aren't the only ones who love him. As I worked to gain control of my tears, I told my friend how much it meant to me that I had a place where I felt 100-percent comfortable leaving my son. It means the world to me that I have people in my life whom I trust with my lifeblood. That's no small thing.

I used to hear the It takes a village to raise a child adage and think it meant that every adult needs to be the parent, and I don't think that one kid needs a million parents. But since I've been a mother, I've realized that the village isn't there to be a parent--it's there to support the parents. The village is there to welcome my children and love them and be their friends. It's there to love me and support me and listen to me. And I'm a part of the village so that I can help and listen and love. I'm a part of the village because it's the only way I can give back to those people who love me and my family. The village thrives on reciprocity, and boy, it's a beautiful system.

I have many friends here whom I can call when I need childcare or a listening ear or an inconvenient favor. This village is full of many homes who welcome my son and my husband and myself without a second thought. And I have so many friends here for whom I would do anything. And that willingness isn't rooted in obligation, but in love. The village isn't there because I'm an inadequate or lazy mother--it's there to help me be the mother I want and need to be. It's there because we were never meant to raise children all alone. The village is there because it's one of the best systems for learning how to both give and receive love. The village raises the child, because it also raises the mother.

I used to think that I didn't need the village, but I was so wrong. I need it, and my family needs it. We need to serve and be served, love and be loved. And doesn't everybody?

the mantle and the cake guts

When we moved into our new home last summer, I casually asked our friend Blair--who's extremely skilled in all things handy and building--if he wouldn't mind making us a mantle to go over our fireplace. We have this fireplace with brick reaching straight from the floor to the ceiling, and a mantle would just look so pretty. (Josh at first wanted to put our gargantuan television above the fireplace, an issue which caused some contention in our marriage for a time.)

So after we spent several months settling in, I reapproached Blair with my proposal. He said yes, and last month came over with this:

I am blown away by the craftsmanship and am absolutely giddy about how perfect this mantle is for our home. It's the kind of thing that I'll take down when we eventually sell this place so that buyers can't ask for it in the contract. It's the kind of thing that will have a place in our home forever.

When we asked what we owed him for supplies and labor, Blair very graciously stated that this was a housewarming gift. So. My brain started whirring for a way to express our gratitude: cake. Obviously.

Yesterday was Blair's birthday, and I thought, What better day to bake him his favorite cake than on his birthday? So I went to work during Asher's nap making a German chocolate cake. The smells coming from the oven were delicious, and then it was time to take the layers out of the pan.

And all three layers stuck and fell out in chunks. All of them. That chocolaty, moist cake came out in clumps and crumbs, and I was left facing a bowl of cake guts next to a bowl of signature German chocolate topping.

I didn't have time to make another and had to face the facts that instead of bringing over birthday cake for Blair that I would instead come bearing a bowl of crumbs. At least they were delicious crumbs.

So we picked up Tillamook ice cream on our way to their house, because cake guts are still pretty good when you involve ice cream. I'd like to claim a do-over another day, but Blair and his wife, Kate, were very gracious about the whole thing, because they're good people like that.

At the end of the day when I crash on the couch and look up at this space that's mine to personalize and beautify, I'm just grateful to have wonderful people in my life who are so kind to me and my family. This place here in Oregon is so good to us, even when I produce cake guts in place of a layered dessert.

11 things I learned in January

This post is inspired by Emily from Chatting at the Sky.

:: According to BuzzFeed quizzes I am the following: Mr. Potato Head, Ann Veal (her?), a Londoner, Albus Dumbledore, Jess (from New Girl), and--my favorite quiz result--a writer.

:: DisneyLand is actually for grown-ups.

:: The right things aren't always super easy or convenient. (I seem to relearn this one often.)

:: Safeway is the only grocery store chain in the Portland area that carries those gross, fake Valentine Pillsbury cookies that I secretly love.

:: A bowl of steel-cut oats is the best breakfast in all the land (next to birthday cake--obviously).

:: My husband doesn't like cake.

:: If I have to pick a team to win the Super Bowl, it has to be the Broncos. The Pacific Northwest can't take away my Rockies roots!

:: Stephen King is a much better writer than I'd ever given him credit for. (I'm currently in the middle of The Stand. To see what else I'm reading, check out my Goodreads profile.)

:: The response I received to this post affirmed its message that gracious dialogue is more effective than any cruel words.

:: Making this place a priority makes hard things in my life so much more manageable. It's so worth it to sacrifice a night of stretchy pants for a couple hours of real learning.

:: January and I may be ready to make peace.

One of my favorite Instagram posts from January:

What have you learned this month? Are you glad January is over?

more or less nonsense

I honestly don't know what I think I'm doing by fitting in a blog post at this exact moment, because I have a timeline to keep to today. I guess I just wanted to post what will likely chalk up to nonsense before I cave and go get up the boy whose nap today was on the shorter end of things.

I've been swimming this week in appointments and visits and errands, and midweek I'm just ready for stretchy pants and hermitage. But. The missionaries are coming over for dinner, and if there's a chance that karma's a thing, I want to generate some good juju for my own missionary brother way down in the southern hemisphere. I actually have a slew of post ideas in Evernote waiting to be written up, but today shall be a nonsense day.

So, there you have it.

Perhaps after I get back tonight from more visits, I'll get Josh to watch Downton with me and chances are good that I'll fall asleep on the couch. Willing myself to Friday, I'll ride out this crazy extroverted week with hot chocolate and a queue of podcasts.

Like I said, nonsense.

hello, Monday

:: Hello, Monday.
:: Hello to cloudy skies and warm coats.
:: Hello to a rainy forecast.

:: Hello to spontaneous friend dates and Bachelor weddings.
:: Hello to toddler giggles and sharing Goldfish.

:: Hello to piles of laundry and only cleanish bathrooms.
:: Hello to bedhead ponytails and big-boy haircuts.
:: Hello to meal plans and low-key grocery shopping.

:: Hello to Valentine decorations, chocolate sugar cookies, and polka-dot scarves.
:: Hello to more Downton and Sherlock.
:: Hello to reading in the cozy and hot cocoa perfected with York Peppermint Pattie creamer.

:: And best of all, hello to cheesy, banana-mouth, big-boy haircut grins to kick off the week.