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!

MUCH ADO About....

the Reading Fair???
You bet your sweet ass there is!
If your child hasn't participated in a reading fair you are missing out....on many levels.
Planning & executing is memorable but displaying the board is humbling!

We were feeling good as we walked into the school....my daughter selected Fancy Nancy, which is a purrrrfect choice (I applauded her selection) because she is 'fancy' after all.
The perfect book, the perfect personality that goes with the book...all the stars are lining up...

As if I didn't realize how lackluster my own craft skills are.....we have a gymnasium full of posters to remind me!
But this is HER project I remind myself. She did it. And she's supposed to.
Damn there are some crafty elementary school children, I think as I survey the gym.

I scan my daughter's tri-fold board....The sequin fabric applied as a dress to the hand-drawn body....
the title traced in glue and appropriately glittered.....
her handwriting visible on the board so it is adequately 'homemade'......
Just right I conclude.....UNTIL....

a GIANT paper-machie lighthouse is placed on the cardtable next to us.
My daughter's eyes get as big as saucers, as if to say "Mama LOOK at that."
"Ok honey," I avert my eyes, putting the final touches on our table--the lighthouse is like kryptonite--my God, that thing is HUGE.
"Stand in front of the table and let's get a picture," I say to my daughter.
"Maaaa-ma." She kinda rolls her eyes.....WE are worthy I'm thinking.....
"Do we haaaaave to?" She asks. And like a punch in the gut, there it is....she is no longer ecstatic about her project. "Damn lighthouse," I think. "Dont you have anything better to do? Who is it" I'm thinking while smiling through my teeth at my loving daughter. "Just one pic, honey." She complies.

I hold out my hand and she grabs it firmly. "Ok, let's go to class," I tell my daughter.
On the way out we smile at familiar faces--other adults and children we know.
"Well maybe she's still in it. It's possible. If judges like the homemade look." I think to myself.
As we make our way through the crowd of parents, cardtables and tri-fold boards we are pushed into a nice-looking family presumably of Middle-Eastern descent--the mother is casually dressed with a stylish scarf covering her hair.
What catches my eye as we pass this family is the beautiful, green-glittered styrofoam frog on the tri-fold board.....and the Dad's big ear-to-ear grin...
"You gotta be kiddin' me" I think--"they're not even American!"
My daughter and I make our way toward her room and I can't get the sparkling styrofoam frog outta my mind. Seriously. We should get bonus points for being natural-born citizens, I think as I smile, hug my daughter and wave goodbye. "Have a great day, honey."

Yes. I realize the pettiness of my redneck cracker thoughts.....No. I don't think any other family is less deserving....I was raised to judge people on their character, not by the color of their skin. Who am I to say....maybe their family has lived in this country for generations. Maybe their grandparents have served in the U.S. military, and if they haven't maybe they appreciate this country even more than me because they've seen and lived in other parts of the world where freedom of religion and speech are not part of daily life.

Well....that last part is just blasphemy--'cause there ain't NO family more patriotic than mine.
But whose to say....

7:00 a.m.

The digital clock in my husband's car (that I loathe) says 8:13. In fact, it reads 9:13 but I know it's actually 8:13 because of the time change, and of course I have no f-ing clue and no interest in changing the time.

So. I really don't even know where to start. But something tells me the beginning.
I'll start at the beginning but first you should know this is unchartered territory for me.
Writing on the computer, that is.

I pulled into my drive...
(side note: my mother just called my home number, "I'm writing my novella, can't talk." I tell her. "Whaaaat??! Mom says in her best that-sounds-like-a-waste-of-time-and-something-your-father would-be-doing voice. I laugh. "Call you back" I say hurriedly. I'm thinking gotta get this down--get 'it' out of my mind to go on with my day. "Byeee." Mom says and I hear the doubt and sarcasm in her voice.)

So. Unchartered territory. Not the writing but actually sitting down at the computer.

I pulled into my drive awhile ago, and I immediately began looking for a pen. I now keep paper in my car so I can record my thoughts. No pen. I look in console--ahhh, the broken $5 Book Fair purple pen....maybe I can put the pen part....and here's the top with all the fun big beads....no use. My purse. I pull the top of a pen.....and it's broken too. Fuck. I'm gonna have to walk IN the house. Fine.

I walk in the house and grab a pen. No messages, I glance at our machine. I walk outside and get back into the car.
Ahhhhh. My office. My make-shift office. My 'rolling' office--hah!

My favorite hobby is to sit in my car (or my husband's shitty Lexus) and write. I like sitting in my drive-in this office I have a panaromic view of my yard. Which calms me. Depending on the season, I see shades of green, or even vibrant purple when the red-bud trees are blooming. Today there are piles and piles of brown and gold crunchy leaves.

I'm in the car. Comfortable.
The anticipation of writing--uninterrupted is very satisfying.
I'm relaxed--finally! I reach for my notebook. Open it.....flip thru my recent writings to a blank page..... and at the top of the page write 8:13 a.m.

Wait.
Hold on hussy, I tell myself. This is 'beautiful mind' style writing.....again. You told yourself NO more. I mean, I know this is heaven--just sitting and recording your thoughts. And you've worked through a ton of smuck but come on.....the blog? Instead of writing this shit in another notebook.....just document it on the computer. That's why you agreed to do the blog. So you'd have an avenue to share and record your thoughts, impressions and all the crazy shit going thru your fucked-up mind.

All true.
Do you know yourself well. Do you listen to yourself, even when you don't want to??
Sometimes I do. And sometimes I don't. This morning I do.

The beginning.
7:00 a.m.
"Can you take them to school?" John asks. Damn, I think. "Sure." I say. I need to get to the office also and finish discovery for his Dad but.....John does a lot and yes, of course I can.

"Get your clothes girls. You're both old enough to pick out your own outfits."
We should be picking them out the night before. I know this. My fault.
"Girls this is why we pick them out the night before," I tell them.
They're not even listening, or maybe they are.

"He wanted to wear his Halloween shirt." John tells me as I survey the shitty outfit he put on our youngest. I kinda roll my eyes. "What?" John takes issue with my eye-roll. "Hell, he wanted to get himself dressed, it's not a big deal." John is making his case. That's the only thing about 2 lawyers....."Whatever." I say shortly.
I'm thinking of all the cute outfits in his drawers. Fuck it. No time. Not this morning.

Just 30 minutes agoI was sitting blissfully in my den--cup of coffee. It was 6:39 am.
Talking with John."This is one of my favorite things to do--have coffee in the morning with you."

And now...at 7:07 am I'm in the middle of a shit-storm.

"I want pancakes." My youngest says. "Mama, you said we would have pancakes."
No time. I think. Hell, I blew that off at 6:36--I had a choice. Get my ass up to make the cakes, or sit for a minute with John.
"Honey, we'll have them tomorrow." I tell him.
"Mama will make them tomorrow, son." John backs me up.

"Come on girls. Frosted Flakes ok?" I hurry them up. They are dressed.
Not a typical outfit. Cute though. My girls usually don't go for the pants with matching top.
Ahhhh, hell no. We gotta mix it up. They both look darling.
Something tells me I have played subtle role in this---after all, their Mama isn't a matchy, simple person either.
Hmmmm. Sorry 'bout your luck girls, I think.
I'm just complicated, I think. Sometimes.

"NO. I not wearin' those." My 3 year old defiantly tells his Daddy.
"Oh yes you are son. You are gonna wear the green ones." Tennis shoes, that is.
My youngest is in the middle of a full-blown meltdown.
My middle child goes over to console him.
"I want the BLUE ones....." he cries.
Our Daddy is being pushed. "Nope. You're wearing these." John slams his foot into the shoe.
More tears.
The girls finished with cereal have moved on. My middle child playing her Nintendo.
"Get off the Nintendo." John says. She doesn't move.
Ahhhh, hell. I think, listening in the kitchen.
"GET OFF THE NINTENDO" he yells.
He grabs the game, "You are grounded for a week from that thing."
A week? Hell, that's too long, I think. Mama doesn't say a word. Even I know now isn't the time.

7:17 am
Youngest still crying. I walk to car and find his blue tennis shoes.
"Girls, brush your teeth." I tell them.
"Are we gonna be late?" My middle child asks.
"YES!" John responds....."NO" I respond, at the same time.
"You should be leaving now," John says with full authority--like he's the gestapo.
"We're fine." I say.

We have moved onto the BLUE tennis shoes. John has put one shoe on.
"That NOT the right foot......" my son screams. "It hurts me...." More tears.
I walk over with the other BLUE shoe--"honey, yes it is." "NO," he screams.
A boot is laying nearby. "What about the boots?" Anything--for God's sake shut him up.
I know where the other boot is--I found it and washed it. The mat. Also don't forget the sleeping mat in the dryer. And his sleep friend. Kinda wet--the boot. I get the hair dryer.....

7:24
"Alright, y'all gotta go. I'm done....just take him. I'm not doing this anymore." John declares.
The boots don't fit. Damn, these kids have the biggest feet I've ever seen.
John's family. They get that from John's family.
"Girls go ahead and get in the car, please." I say.
My youngest in the floor crying. No shoes.
I scoop him up.....take him to the car and put on our seat belts.
Throw his shoes in the floorboard.
Ahhhh. Somehow Mama is the good witch this am. Ahhhhhh. I like it.

My oldest is dropped off without incident. "Do I have soccer tonight?" she asks. "Yes." I say.
Plenty of time, I think. On schedule.
"Honey, have a great day."
Can't do the spanish I think. It's just too much. No spanish lessons after school. But another language is important, I think. I dunno. But her regular schoolwork....and doing the 'select' soccer team. Just can't do it all.

I turn left to take my middle child to school.
"Mama, I have no breakfast." My youngest says from the backseat "Mama I hungry."
Oh shit. He's right. He never ate. GREat. "Ok honey, we'll get you something," I say.

Look at that beautiful yellow tree." I point, as we are stopped to turn down the street.
"When you were 4, you would've said, 'that tree lost its chlorophyll.' " I remind my middle child, who enjoys these stories. She smiles a big toothless grin.

"And," I continue,
(my daughter loves this, and I must rehearse these stories so I don't forget them!)
"you were 4 when you recited the entire Thanksgiving story." "I know Mama."
"In 1620 the Pilgrims left England for a new home" I continue in my best 'drama' voice.
And I'm thinking, this is MY favorite story about her and generally I love the Pilgrims....
"Ohhhh no. Did I just pass your school?!"
Damn. I did.
"Mama, yes you did. You passed my school. What are you gonna do?"
My middle child is distraught.
7:44 am
No way I can circle back around.
"NO ENTRY...." I see the sign as I turn right into the bus-only entrance.
I follow a white jolopy who is pulling up to the sidewalk.
Here come the teachers---waving wildly at us not to stop at the sidewalk.
My children are mortified. "Daddy never does this," she says.
Daddy doesn't give a shit about the Pilgrims either, I think.
I roll down the window. "You gotta park." The woman yells at me. Her face full of disgust.
I pull into a shaded no-parking spot....."Honey, I can't walk you all the way."
"Mama, just walk up here, you HAVE to." I hold her hand tight. We stomp up the sidewalk to the corner of the school...."Bye Mama" she says lovingly. "Bye honey."
Oh God. I see the bus pull up. I see John's Lexus and driver door open....surely he won't get out.
Surely. He's buckled in the car. He wouldn't get out to follow us.

Ok. "Let's go get you a biscuit." I reassure my son.
7:53 TExt from John Door locked. Love you.
My youngest quietly eats the sausage from his biscuit--not great for his tummy, I think. Oh well.
And drinks his milk. "Ahhh. All gone." He says. Damn, he was thirsty.
"I not go to school." he threatens. "Oh. Ms. Anne Fairley has so many fun things planned."
Still hasn't put on his shoes.

We drive up to the school. Ok. He's eaten.
The mat. Fuck. Later, I'll bring the mat later.
I look around for his shoes. The teacher has opened the car door.
"See his shoes, they are..." I'm straining to reach behind me.
"Wait!"- the teacher yells, "You're movin'...."
I look at the dash "R".....
I quickly reach for the gear and attempt to move the gear--my Iphone is stuck behind it....
I push the phone....I feel us rolling backward--I look in the rear-view mirror, shit!
Get the MFer in park, I think---the P, look for "P."
Ok.
"Sorry....my foot was.....I thought I had put it in park but...." I try and explain.
"No problem," the college-age girl smiles.
Hm-hum. She thinks I'm crazy.
Soooo f-ing cute, well just wait until YOU have kids, a husband and a mortgage, I think.
As I drive off I notice 2 ladies laughing--I know them. I like them both a lot.
Huh.
They saw me. I've become one of 'those Moms.' The bat-shit crazy ones??
Maybe they are laughing at me. Shit. I'd laugh at me.
I was inches from a full-blown catastrophe.....
What if I'd hit the accelerator on accident when in "R" and smashed the Director who was behind us......
Dear Lord.
I wouldn't of. I didn't. Everything's fine.

8:01
Exhausted.
Change this Radio Disney shit.
Ahhhhh. Peace. Enjoying the ubiqutous coffee (got me a decaf at Mickey D's).
As I drive home. I smile. I kinda laugh.
I review our crazy morning in my mind. Just life.
My life isn't perfect. God knows I'm not perfect. Sometimes it's just crazy and mixed-up. Life.
You can't even make-up this stuff.....
BLack Eyed Peas come on.... I turn it up....loud. I'm singing, loudly. Snapping my fingers.
Get out of the way!! I almost run over an elderly woman turning into the animal clinic.

I'm so thankful. And grateful. To be at this point in my life. To feel settled.
I'm now on our road.
My neighbor lost her dog a few days ago.
"Dog Found. Thanks, everyone." The sign in her yard reads.
I'm more than comfortable in our community. I'm home.
I pull up our driveway. There are piles and piles of brown and gold leaves.
I think about our community.
My husband. My church friends. My Mom-friends. My girlfriends. My in-laws.
They've given me more than they will ever know.
Freedom.
Freedom to define myself.
Freedom from the control of my parents bitter separation and divorce.
I want to share my experience. I look for a pen. The purple Book Fair pen, it's broken.
I walk into the house to get a pen.
I walk back to the car.
I sit. Looking out the windows of my rolling-office-hah!
There must be others who could benefit from my experiences.
Other people--women--who sometimes feel alone and isolated even in the midst of family and friends. Not all the time but occassionally.
People who carry the burden of grief, loss, rage or bitterness.....whatever the cause.
My heart is so full, I think.
My husband, my family and my friends gave me the love, strength and courage to let go of the bitterness and sadness. And of course, my God.
The day in the courtyard at Everyday Sisters.
I want the world to know 'the peace that passeth all understanding' is available to everyone.
To anyone.
I reach for my notebook.
I write at the top of the page 8:13 am.
Wait. No more 'beautiful mind' writing. I tell myself.
Today, I listened.
Thanks be to God!

Mistletoe Madness...

Are you familiar with Mistletoe Marketplace??
The annual holiday extravaganza
put on by the Junior League of Jackson, Mississippi.

My soul sister, Robyn, and I have a tradition of attending every year. We normally bunk-up with my darling cousin-in-law, Christie Farese, but this year sick kiddies prompted a change of plans. Do you have a tradition where you 'get away' even for a night with a friend?
Mistletoe is the purrrrfect opportunity!

From the fabulously decorated booths...
to the funky & unique clothing, art and gifts available from vendors across the South...

Mistletoe Marketplace
is a fine example that Mississippi women just know how to throw a party.
These girls are NOT messin' around!!

Once you see, you'll agree Mississippi women take CUTE to a new level.
It's just true.
Give Mississippi #1 in putting-on-a-party....
They are inventive and original with decorating, design, advertising & events.

Beware, it's not simply the party atmosphere that's impressive.
The entire 4-day extravaganza is organized & planned with a corporate precision and effectiveness that would make any CEO green with envy.
The League's primary goal of raising funds for charity is accomplished within the confines of a true holiday wonderland....all executed by a group of dedicated Mommy Divas!!!

The girls at Monogram Magic have a booth that looks like my room in heaven! You can find them online at monogrammagic.com. Pop Fizz, a children's store in Jackson is a must-visit.

You never know when traditions will present themselves on this journey of life
but when they do make a committment to keep them....
Robyn & I have, and we both look forward to our annual Mistletoe trip....

Also--try the recently opened restaurant MINT, in Ridgeland's Regency Center.
Any Mommy Diva will LUV the atmosphere-it's moody & hip.
Executive Chef David Farris is a family friend.
You must have the Appalachicola oysters w/bacon & cheese. And the redfish is fab!
We stayed at the Embassy Suites in Ridgeland and it was v. nice (the Hyatt Place at Regency was booked). In addition to our annual TJMax & Marshall's run (Dr. Ash, the ultimate bargain-finder, I thought of you and Leslie) we hit Anthropologie & JCrew at Regency. Whew.

Wanna give a shout out to Buford T. who held down the fort while we were gone!!!
3 kids, carpool, homework and tests, while getting to court & managing his domestic relations clients all by his lonesome....

Buford T. you may qualify as a Mommy Diva....
nah, I like you better as a hot Daddy!!

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!!!