Christmas (and other) Cheer

Ahhhhh. Let's reflect for a moment on Christmas, and other 'cheer.'

Our family enjoys different traditions that we've come to look forward to each year.

Christmas Eve is spent with John's Dad (Boo) and his wife (Cici). There is a long-standing tradition of the Fareses getting together Christmas Eve, and our children expect to go to Boo & Cici's the day before Christmas! My husband grew up going to his Farese grandparents on Christmas Eve--exchanging gifts with cousins and sharing the anticipation of the most cherished day of the year. I included a photo of our girls at the "little table" Cici always provided! The afternoon of Christmas Day is spent with John's sweet mother and her family. The 'Stannard' side of the family gets together at their compound in Holly Springs [side note: YES, I'm aware my side of the family is missing from our Christmas traditions and I'm slightly bitter, but that's another post!] John's mother and her husband have a beautiful home next to her sister, John's aunt Vicki, and her husband. Vivian & Vicki are MommyDivas from way back--honey, they can do it all. Vivian decks her halls beautifully--I have a 'bit' to live up to! In spite of suffering from breast cancer (and her husband recently recovered from lung cancer) my mother-in-law graciously had us to her home Christmas Day. Thanks be to God for traditions that keep all of us motivated during exceedingly difficult times. Vivian and Smitty have been an inspiration--when the worst comes you live each day with resolve, dignity and as much strength as you can muster.

We always get together and exchange gifts with our dear friends the Tannehills. We do this a few days before Christmas and this year we went to their house....we enjoyed a delicious meal and their home was decorated beautifully. As dear friends do, we always feel at ease with the Tannehills. We have loads of fun together--laughing, talking and catching-up.

We also have a tradition of getting together with our friends the Greens and Callicutts--and the children decorate cookies for Santa. This is really one of our favorite activities during the holiday. The iced cookies are delicious--this year Kate made over 60 cookies for the kids to decorate (we are definitely getting her some help next year) and our barn proved to be an easy place for the kids to get reeeeeealy messy while icing and decorating their Christmas-shaped cookies! I'll get the recipe from her and post....MommyDiva you really MUST work this tradition into your holiday next year...or perhaps Valentine's??

Speaking of Valentine's--my Vixen friends will recall a time when we made cookies in college for our significant others--my pre-cooking days--and my cookies were U-G-L-Y....ahhhhh. They laughed at my cookies. It's true. I remember. And I know those hussies do too! Also, I remember Maria--see her blog at left "Life in the Afternoon" was particularly proud of HER cookies....and I vivdly remember Dr. Ash GLOATING about hers! Someone has photos that document my hell-ish confections. Holla Holla Vixens!!

And...eat your heart out while viewing our cookies for Santa! Maybe I'll send cookies your way for Valentines....while I'm "writing a letter to the Editor." And maybe Gregg Graham is reading THIS post!!!!!!! LOL.....For those of you who don't know Dr. Ash...she is reeeeeally good at--well, many things but I'm thinking right now of her uncanny ability to distract baseball players during their minor league game.....Honey, it was "Sweet Briar night" at the Lynchburg Red Sox game. Of course, WE were the cutest girls there!!! Honey, the cutest in all of Virginia as far as that goes! Dr. Ash, you MUST meet my friend RT--who also had a penchant for baseball players during college....

I don't mind telling you I feel very Blessed by the friendships I have made through the years--these women keep me sane! My girlfriends, my sister, my mother, my Dad's wife and my in-laws--all women I refer to as MommyDivas--help me stay grounded and navigate the rollercoaster ride of motherhood! (And, of course, my beloved Buford T.)

I wish each of you an AUTHENTIC 2010....honey, it ain't gonna be perfect! But life as a mother is rich and full and glorious....most days. There are moments...it f-ing sucks.

So....I wish you an AUTHENTIC 2010...'happy' is blase MommyDivas.

YOU deserve more!

Happy Birthday Buford T....You Shoulda Been a Cowboy!

Happy Birthday to you.....happy birthday to you.....happy birthday dear John....
Happy Birthday to you!!!
I would be remiss if I didn't wish my darling husband happy bday.
It goes without saying that my husband is a rare bird. He is rugged yet sophisticated. His values and character were molded and shaped in a rural Southern town--and don't get me started on his use of a saw, fishing pole and his general all-around resourcefulness, contributing to what I call his "Benton County brawn."
The first time I remember seeing my husband, which was in law school, I was struck by his broad shoulders and impressed with the way he carried himself confidently into class. He was dressed in a navy suit and had a Jansport back-pack casually slung over his shoulder. "WHO--is that?" I spun around and asked my new law-school friend, sitting behind me. "Who?" my friend said with furrowed brow. I remember the urgency in my voice. I could see this man was different. "The guy." I whispered--"you know with the suit, the back pack and the longer hair." As my friend casually looked behind him, and looked back at me, he said, gesturing with his hands, "Who? John Farese?"
As my friend told me the mystery man's name it immediately had a ring --well, to me, it sounded like a rock star "John Fa-rese?" I repeated the name to my friend...."Yea. John Farese. I played basketball with him. He's a good player." And the rest....as they say...is history!!!
Other posts could include---riding around Jackson in LA's Caddy trying to spot this new Prince Charming.....unbeknownst to us, he lived a hundred feet from me at The Trace apartments. Ha!

And to think--a few days ago, leading up to Christmas I coldly rebuffed this darling man I call my husband. (Honey--I was as cold as Jack Frost....that's what riding the cotton pony through Christmas will getcha.....NOTTA! but this post ain't about me).

My husband is direct and honest. He does not mince words. John is rarely verbose, yet never at a loss for words. He is strong and protective, yet tender and sensitive. He is a wonderful husband and father. A good friend, brother and cousin. On my husband's birthday I want him to know how very, very special he is.
Thanks be to God I found you in Mississippi!!! Happy birthday honey.
p.s. Happy 40th to our dear friend John M....hope you have a special day, old man!!!

Hi-Ho Hi-Ho, It's Off to Work I Go.....

Hey-Ho. Yes, yes, yes of course I have Christmas on my mind like every other stark-raving-mad-MommyDiva this time of year!!! But I wanted to chat with you about something other than the holidays.

I don't know if I've mentioned on the blog that I'm doing legal work again but....I'm doing legal work again. And I'm excited to feel engaged with my career again! The beginning of this road is a little scary but familiar and very satisfying.

Last week I accompanied hubby to court. I wanted to re-acquaint myself with domestic hearings and I wanted to take the opportunity to re-introduce myself to the Judge--who is a lovely woman and excellant Judge, with FIVE children of her own--a true MommyDiva!!! She is an inspiration.

"All Rise" the bailiff announced, in a loud firm voice. As the Judge walked in, the courtroom full of people came to their feet and I felt a strange comfort....this scene was familiar to me...this was not awkward at all (although my heart raced a little for hubby).....

"Hear ye, hear ye" the bailiff continued, and as I scanned the courtroom full of clients, families, court personnel and lawyers I realized there were no female attorneys. Not one. I counted seven or eight attorneys waiting to be heard, sitting with their court files, watching as the female Judge took the bench. In addition, my husband and counsel-opposite sat at their respective tables ready for the hearing, and their presence equaled nine or ten practicing attorneys in the courtroom--all male. I didn't bring this to hubby's attention, and if I had it wouldn't--it couldn't--have meant the same thing to him that it means to me, or to any woman. And I don't put too much emphasis on this fact, really, except to say that I noticed.



And...maybe the next time I'm in that courtroom there willl be at least one practicing female attorney!

Deer In Headlights!?

TEN DAYS.

You are NOT a deer caught in headlights.....

Hear me hussy!!

You are a MOMMYDIVA....

Finish up now, folks are depending on you!

Let Them Eat Cake...

This isn't Ms. Ellis' World History class. And I'm not Marie Antoinette.
I could try her "up-do." Would seriously be better than the frizzy, singed-out do I'm sporting these days. (Bangs cut. Sad wave in them. Threw away cheap Conair straightening-iron. And, I need a hot oil treatment--pronto.)

This post isn't about world history.....rather, it's about my failings as a parent.
Yes. I let them eat birthday cake for breakfast.

Listen hussies, I told you I'm worn-out from making decisions for FOUR people everyday.
Thinking, anticipating, planning for FOUR people....Buford T. is on his own. Except when he has to microwave a hot dog--make that thinking and reasoning for FIVE people on a daily basis.

Yes.....I'm aware that my children are young.
Yes.....I'm aware that it takes stamina to raise children.
No. I'm NOT giving up or throwing in the towel......
I simply let them eat cake for breakfast.

We're all out-of-sorts this morning.

Fall break is today. No school. We made plans to go to the zoo and its raining--AGAIN!!!
You people in Seattle (one of my James step-brothers & his wife).....you get the prize for mental toughness. I didn't mind the first TEN days.....we were very dry. No kidding. Since we have a yard to maintain I now appreciate the benefit of a good soaking rain. HOWEVER. That's been many rainy days and nights ago.

Not to mention our wood steps are slick-as-snot. Sorry. It's true.
I fell last week. With heels on. My son witnessed it. I laid there trying to get attention from my daughters, who were waiting for me in the car. No luck. Typical. Little hussies. "Mama, you ok?" The steps are steep enough to warrant a sympathetic initial reaction. "Yes." I respond meekly. Secretly, I'm hoping they tell their Daddy....that's who I really want the sympathy from.
You know, just a little extra attention for Mama......

"Well, if you're ok... come on." My oldest says impatiently, "We're gonna be late!"
Hm-hum.
My boy is worried sick about me for the next week. Every time I get near the steps he warns me, "Mama BE careful." "Mama they wet." "Hold my hand Mama...I hep you."

Sorry. I digressed.
In lieu of the zoo we're going skating. I hope. If it's open.......if not, we'll be at Wal-Mart buying all kinds of worthless shi!......

My new trump card is threatening to embarrass them.
I tell my daughters that I might even roller-skate. (Think Y.M.C.A.--honey, this Mama logged many hours skating in the basement under the glow of a disco ball).

"If either of you throw a fit when it's time to leave, I'll embarrass you like you've never seen."I say curtly.
I can't handle a hissy-fit episode by them today. I think. Not with my shitty bangs, dry hair and our foiled plan to the zoo. "Maaaa-ma." They giggle. "What will you do?" I've stumbled upon an effective game. Now that my oldest is old enough to voice, "Don't embarrass me Mama." I reciprocate. "I'll skate backward," I declare. "Caroline can skate backward," my oldest announces. Huh. Not enough, I think. I won't have a scene.
"Well. I'll drop-down and" [**visual--hands in the air, squat, one-leg out, knee bent, and wobble**] "Nooooo. NO." They wave me off, mid-squat. "Maa-ma. No way."
Success. I'm slightly concerned with their over-reaction--did I look THat bad? Probably.
This is why MommyDivas leave the 'skating' to their children......at all costs you must avoid a wipe-out. Permissible to have on skates to help young children but skating backwards, or otherwise, 'performing' is a complete and total embarrassment to yourself and motherhood. Honey, surely you've 'been-there-done-that!"
Mama, you only have permission to engage in such conduct IF you are retaliating.
And then, you better be certain your body will now move in the same way it did when YOU were in the fourth grade. Doubtful.

MommyDiva is Born...or Buh-Bye Soccer Mom, Hello MommyDiva!

No. No. No.
It's not 1971.....
And no, I'm not doing a post on birth stories (later).....
Yet, I'm quite sure a MommyDiva was 'born' today-- a stellar woman having given birth to a precious child!

So. Having given birth to 3 precious children and having exited the legal profession--for a variety of reasons (later)--I was impatient about staying home exclusively and not doing any 'paid work.' Our youngest was 7 months. I had a housekeeper 2 days a week, I think. My oldest in school full-time and the middle at pre-school half-day. I give you this information because it is pertinent to my situation at the time. Until all 3 of my children were in school full-time (8-3) I would not pursue my legal career again.


I decided to pursue something completely different than what I was trained to do.

Hosting trunk shows and selling women's clothing would be exciting and fun. A challenge. I would also get a discount on the clothing. Perfect. I could be at home full-time but be involved in a business venture.


I had to name the new agency. Hmmmmm.


I envisioned my girlfriends (those who live here and those out-of-town), and other women in town who I thought might be interested in the clothes.
Some of these women work. Some stay-home. Some of them have part-time work.
Most of them have children.
They are professionals. They are artists. They are innovators.


"Girls playing dress-up" kept coming to mind. Every woman I know is a 'girl' at heart.
Don't the boys know this? Just like every man is a 'boy' at heart. We are no different.
It's just a matter of peeling back the layers of responsibility and anxiety we face, daily, as mothers.


Somehow 'girls' didn't do my friends and acquaintances justice.
We like to be 'girly.' But we have also faced and survived....lived to tell about and share meaningful life experiences. These women deserve more, I thought. "Girls" isn't enough.


And, it's not about whether you work or stay-home, I concluded.
(MommyWars are OUT!)
It's about mothering our children.
It's about being the very best mother we can be.
It's about maintaining our individuality as women, while mothering. We must.


Soooooooo. MommyDiva.

MommyDiva??? Is that gay sounding?? Who the fu$! cares-I like it.
Mamadiva? No--too southern.
mommydiva? That shi! reminds me of ee cummings.....
MommyDiva.
Huh. I love it, I thought. Yea. MommyDiva. That's it. That's the name I'll give my new agency.

My friends...childhood, college, law-school, and adult--these women in my life are MommyDivas.
My mother...who continues to mother even though her 2 daughters have children of their own!
My sister...who has children AND is bringing home the bacon AND frying it up in the pan....

There are MommyDivas everywhere.
Single MommyDivas. Married MommyDivas.
MommyDivas of all racial and ethnic backgrounds.


We don't cease to be women with wants, desires and needs when we become mothers.
On the contrary, we should view our individuality as a responsibility to our family and children.
Honey, if Mama ain't happy, nobody is happy.


It's ok to say that mothering is one aspect of my life. Not my entire life.
Do you hear me hussy? It's ok. Do something for yourself. Do something aside from kids.
Claim your individuality MommyDiva!


I remember both parents telling me, you can never know how much a parent loves a child until you have your own. And I understand now. There is no greater reward than motherhood.
And no bigger challenge.....except being a wife.
I don't remember anyone telling me--ever-- how essential maintaing my individuality as a woman is to being an emotionally healthy, effective mother.

WE are the women who now carry the torch of motherhood.....

Buh-by 'soocer Mom.'


Hellooooooooo Mommy Diva!!!

MommyDiva Goes NUTS.....

This MommyDiva went NUTS yesterday......And I just had to tell you about it!

My little boyfriend was home sick from pre-school.

So. I'm home-again-for the day with my 3 year old son.

Like any good romance my son and I had an extraordinary honeymoon. In fact, the honeymoon with my litle boyfriend, who IS a "mini-me" of my darling hubby, lasted.....gosh, a good 2 1/2 years! Quite a romance. I fell HARD for this little man. You know, the last child (**crossing myself, thank you God for our Blessings but my heart is full**) and after 2 girls--a baby boy. Ahhhhhhh.

I would not have believed, nor would I have wanted to hear, or listen, when girlfriends said "a boy is just different." Alas, they are. But just like any good romance, our 'honeymoon' came to an end. It's bound to happen. The euphoria--the incredible, sensational overwhelming joy, and thrill, that flows from a new romance. So, when he received his first spank-down I declared the honeymoon over and I mourned, a little.

As relationships do, we have entered a bit of a 'dysfunctional stage.'
You know.....I frequently ask my little boyfriend, "Why are you yelling at me?"
Or, I find myself telling my little boyfriend, "You're just rude to me. Ask nicely."
Finally, my daughters will say to me, "Do something Mama. Aren't you going to spank him?"
Normally, yes. But MommyDivas.....I'm tired. And well he's only 39 months old. I mean he's been on this Earth....not very long. So, I give him some breaks.

Yesterday he and I had a fight. Over Lincoln Logs. I was helping him build a house.
"Play wif me Mama," he asks sweetly. Ok. Ok. So we're on the floor and I'm building a stellar cabin. When the devil appears. "NO!" "Not like that Mama." As 3 yr. olds do, he is trying to put the shorter log on the side.....and it doesn't fit......and I try and correct him.....and it just goes down him from there. I get pissed at me--and him--because I'm on the floor 'playing' after all.

Neither of us wants to be home.
He's better. And I want to be in a nice office practicing law somewhere, checking email and drinking coffee.

So. We venture OUTSIDE and go NUTS!!!

Truly. Walking around my yard always calms me down.
My son hops in his miniature Gator.....and collects sticks (doing man's work) "I workin' Mama."
And as we're collecting sticks, he spots an acorn. He laughs a big laugh at the little nut, holding it in his pudgy hand.
"His hat come off, Mama." Yes, it did I think. And I start collecting acorns with him. This collecting becomes a game. "Let's get a bag," I tell him. "Yea." He says excitedly.

And, as we gather acorns I am struck at the beauty and variety of their colors. Ranging from deep chocolate.....to a limey green. My favorites are the 'double acorns' and the ones that have a little stem.

I begin to have grandiose ideas......I can make wreaths for all of my windows.
I am Martha--I can do it.

The nuts are still in a pile. I doubt I'll take the time to hot-glue them to anything.
Of course, I'll have to buy a hot-glue gun first.

But getting outside. Collecting acorns.
Just being present in this wide-open world God made.
Prevented this MommyDiva from going NUTS......

A new "Soul Sister"...

MommyDiva friends...let me introduce you to Anna Grace, my now almost 9 month old baby girl. A dear friend of mine, Amanda Smith, did this video for us...and I thought I would share with everyone. You will also get a small dose of my oldest, Jonathan (a/k/a JP)...his expressions are simply priceless!

I absolutely loved the outcome...Amanda's blog is now listed under our "soul sisters"...feel free to check out more of her work...and, congrats to her on just welcoming a new baby girl to her family in August of this year!

Thanks again Amanda for the fabulous video...I will cherish always!

~Sam

Sally Foster is a Bitch!!!

You know she is. Just say it. Bless her heart.
We LOVE her but everyone in town knows Sally Foster is a bitch!!!

The fundraising. The Sally Foster fundraising for my children's schools.

Okay, okay. It's not even the fundraising that's difficult. It's beautiful paper to benefit our wonderful public schools, where my children attend. The difficulty is getting 3 children out the door, looking neat & clean, having studied and completed homework the night-before, having fed them breakfast, fed the dog and now the fish, and on this particular morning doing all of this without the help of Buford T. --who is happily playing golf in SC. I'm not even bitter about Buford T's whereabouts-- honey, I worked that out a looooong time ago!

This morning was deadline for oldest daughter's fundraising packet. "Mama, just write the check. I've only sold 11 items." Dam-nation, I think. Surely we've sold more than that--but we haven't and I know it. Ugh. "Ok, ok, whatever." Originally, I told my daughters not to expect their father and me to write a check for the fundraising--they could make the effort to sell this stuff. Except now, I'm re-considering. As I evaluate my next move--I'm getting everyone loaded in the car (including my mother who is in town for a weekend-visit). I'm thinking:

Okay. 7 items sucks, I think. That won't even get her a pen-light. It's MY fault. I never even registered her on-line. But is that MY responsibility for a 4th grader? She's just like her Daddy, she's not going to be aggressive in her sales of this fabulous wrapping paper. It's just not important to her but the PARTY is important. So. Do I hold firm? Not today. Not on this issue.....she's already upset because the skirt she wanted to wear this am wasn't ironed and cleaned. My fault. And, we go to public school, I think. We don't pay tuition so what's the big deal with writing a check and just making a donation. I don't want to punish her for my lack of organization. Her friends are important to her. Being included is important to her. I don't want her to feel left-out because I didn't do my part in helping her reach the goal. So I write the check.

And, HAND MY MOTHER A MINT--she has been incessantly coughing since we got in the car. I can barely think because of her coughing. Good grief. "I didn't take my medicine," she says. Hmmm. Our parents are not old. We seem to be entering a new phase, however, where our parents are having 'health issues.' "Are you disgusted with my coughing?" she asks. I must look impatient. "No, Mom. Is it the COPD?" I ask, as patiently as I can. "Yes," she kinda heaves, "don't smoke." Hell--I'd smoke like a steam-engine if it didn't make me feel so bad, I think.

"Yea Mom, I know." She now pulls out her inhaler.....no more coughing.

"By the way honey," I say to my oldest, glancing back at her, almost to her school. "If I'm so mean.....I wouldn't be writing this check. But I love you very much. And I'm feeling like I didn't adequately help you achieve the goal for selling wrapping paper, so I'm making a donation." Silence. She told me earler in the morning I was mean--because I disagreed with her about which skirt to wear.

My frustration isn't about the wrapping paper. In fact, I LOVE the stuff--wrap me up and bury me in all those glitzy supplies! Rather, I envision my children's drawers neat and tidy--but they're not. I envision the fundraising packet at the table on the back door, ready for delivery to school, and it wasn't. I see in my mind the home I desire (all the papers from school and artwork neatly filed away) and I even know the calm voices I want to project in the morning. I will do better. I will make a concerted effort not to procrastinate and put-off the small things. I must.

Wait. And give up blogging with you hussies???!!! Doubtful......

Cruella DeVille goes to the dentist...

The last couple of days I've been short with my husband. Hmmmm. Bitchy even?? My thoughts have gone something like this.......

Late meeting at church last night, as in 9:00 pm--ugh! Maybe too much church these days? Home to my loving family. "Did they shower," I ask hubby, with a hint of bitchiness (knowing that they ain't showered and just hoping they at least brushed their teeth). "Nah"--I cut my eyes to him--and make an' of course they didn't' face. "I mean they don't have to bathe every night," he says indignantly. Whatever, I think. Let it go. Just too tired. "What about their folders and homework--ya'll go over that?" I give him a chance at redemption. "Oh yea, yea....we studied." My darling husband lumbers back to bed.

Next morning--wild as hell, which is typical. I'm taking our 3 kids to school this am. "Mama you have to sign this if I'm gonna get pictures. School pictures is TO-day Mama," my middle child reminds me. They're dressed and ready, we picked an outfit, even managed to straigtening-iron the hair, and we're set for school pictures, and as we're racing out the door I have to drop everything (not the coffee, please not the coffee, by God I'm taking my coffee with me)....drop everything on granite counter to SIGN and FILL OUT the school pictures form. I can't do it in carpool line--too much, no pen....gotta do it here....."Mama we gotta go" my oldest child yells. "Hold on," I say, scanning form. Retouched--that's kinda cheezy--we always have leftover photos--which package--which f-ing package. Hubby walks in kitchen, "What are you doing honey" he says sweetly taking a big full sip of his coffee, "ya'll are gonna be late, you gotta" Before he could finish I look up from form and with my very bitchiest, mommydearest voice I say, "You didn't do the school pictures form last night?" "Get me the checkbook," I bark at him. Him who has made the school lunches, him who is the absolute love of my life, him who is a really, really good husband and Daddy. "The checkbook," I snarl. He hands me the checkbook. I'm writing furiously--you know for effect. Thinking-- I have to do everything--Mama has to do it, or it doesn't get done. Do I have to tell everyone what to do all the time......John is hurt. Borderline pissed. We exchange looks--BTW his looks are waaaay better than anything I can come up with. But I throw him one back--this isn't MY fault---we get in car--"Ok, you have the note honey, " I ask my oldest-she is going home with a friend. See I made sure she has a note......it's endless. And I'm frustrated because mornings are madness. Endless the things I do, everyday, many times a day with noone telling me what to do. I'm mad as hell (maybe at myself). The kids are aware. I slam my seatbelt--turn on the car--and fishtail outta my driveway like Cruella DeVille........
Carpool complete. Kids delivered. Calmed down. Necessary coffee now cold. As I drive up to my house, I'm hoping I will see John's car. Nope. He's gone. I'll have to apologize later.


SECONDLY---
Had a dentist appointment this am. My dentist is my brother-in-law--who I really adore. He removed a wisdom tooth that had a cavity. Jason told me since the wisdom tooth was "really small" I could just go ahead and remove it. The only thing I have to compare "really small" with is my children's teeth, so I envisioned a baby tooth......I was shocked to see my "small" wisdom tooth......that's not small at all!!! Now that I think about it--of course my children's baby teeth wouldn't be adequate for an adult. At the time I formed the opinion--and envisioned the baby tooth--I'd never seen an adult tooth. Jason, as a professional and a dentist, had a totally different perspective than I. This experience has really illuminated my thinking---about perspective. All of us do this each day.....we form opinions, thoughts and judgments about how a procedure will go--or how an experience will go---from our own perspective, which is not necessarily the most astute perspective........hmmmmm. Did I just say I'm dumb??