I was born, knitted in my mother’s womb, knowing in my soul, not to settle for the patriarchy. I can’t explain it, I have always in my heart of hearts, been a feminist. I remember taking my first Anthropology class in college, after being raised in Baptist and then Presbyterian churches, my little girl heart battling the whole time. 

Why weren’t there woman preachers? Why are the women the only ones doing the caretaking? As a little girl, these were the things that ran through my head. Although, my Grammy was a badass – I feel like we had a little sparkle that no one else understood.

After Anthropology, there was Women’s Studies, Intercultural Speech and yoga trainings where I found I felt most aligned. I unfortunately, was exposed to the bad things that can happen in churches, not just one or two but three or four or five. And then I was done. But, I still love Jesus and feel like I know his heart after a full year of 24/7 Bible School on Thetis Island, B.C. 

Jesus was a people-lover. Jesus was an on the ground, non-judgmental, open-armed person who would wash peoples feet. I don’t see that in politics today. I see power, I see rule, I see hatred, I see misogyny, bigotry, sexism, judgment…not the heart of Jesus.

I can only hope going forward that seeds have been planted and that beautiful flowers will grow in the groundwork of what has been tilled since 7/24 when President Biden stepped down. There was so much beautiful and inspiring progress made during that time, so much positive energy was built up and I believe America just wasn’t ready for that type of progress.

But, we will keep going, and we will not go back.

After 46 years on this earth, what I know is that it is people who matter – it’s giving and it’s love, it’s compassion, inclusion, acceptance and grace for ourselves and for those who are not like us, or who have been, and are still, oppressed, people who did not get the same start in life as we did. This matters. The economy also matters, but it matters for everyone. I am hopeful and expectant to see how this helps those in need.

I am committing to being open for the next four years and being a frontline witness to all that DT says he can change and fix. I truly do, for the sake of my country and my family, hope that. I believe that everybody in America, the land of the free and the home of the brave, are able to access what they need in this country, groceries, gas, owning a home, special ed services for their kids, women’s healthcare…

Unfortunately, it’s very hard for me to ignore the things that Trump has said, the truly hateful things, the racism he has shown and the disrespect for women. I cannot explain those things away, or pretend they didn’t happen, or pretend they were being taken out of context, there have been too many examples to ignore for me. I have a daughter, I don’t feel like there’s much more to say here.

I have faith in myself, and in my husband, and that we will teach our children the values that we so deeply believe in, teach our kids to be strong and compassionate members of their community…and continue to love everyone in our lives.

Love you and may the force be with us all 💫

The holidays are here. It feels so fast, like we’ve lost a year or two!

We don’t have a year or two to give, our kids are growing too fast…

I can’t help but think about Christmases past with my maternal grandparents and all of the cousins and uncles and aunts. I don’t know what our senior adults think about while reminiscing, but as a kid, I was absolutely enchanted by the coziness and perfection that my grandparents curated in their home. It has remained in my heart and given me some very high personal standards to live up to.

I remember waking up swaddled in Bay Company blankets in my Grammy’s knitting room, smelling the comforting smells of wool, fabric softener and short bread and just feeling so content and so safe. Within this cocoon, we would ski, visit the frozen waterfall, the beach, go to church, bake so many cookies, make Yorkshires, play Uno and Sorry, listen to cousins sing and play guitar by the fire, watch the light-adorned fire trucks parade down Main Street…it was truly magical.

I was a kid and obviously didn’t understand all the adult dynamics going on, which I now know existed, but all of this felt heavenly and I will treasure these memories of comfort for a lifetime. Memories I strive really hard to recreate within my family.

So much is different now. Everything is different now! Each of our parents have remarried, we have a huge blended family with so many incredible people to love. And, although I did lose a lot of the comfort I had growing up through the transition of my parents getting divorced, I am so grateful for all of the new traditions and people we are blessed to have gotten to know.

So, the one major thing blaring bright red this season is connection and how it is everything. It just is. In every way.

Today I took my daughter out for a holiday lunch and while we were sitting there, enjoying our fries and pasta, an older couple struck up a conversation after staring at us for quite a while. The point, essentially, was LOVE YOUR KIDS and use every moment you can to enjoy your life. Their children were all grown and all went to Ivy League schools (doctors and lawyers), but the mother was sad. She said it went too fast and she doesn’t have a close connection with her kids anymore, they live on opposite coasts.

We both left the lunch in tears. Her parting words were, “Babe, you will blink and it will be gone. Do everything you can to love them up now.”

When I was younger, it never occurred to me that it was all so fleeting and that things could change from one day to the next. I wish I’d understood that my grandparents would only be there for a handful of Christmases. I wish I had never taken any of it for granted. I hold fiercely to those memories and will move forward holding all of this in my heart.

We are not guaranteed any of this. This moment right here is what we have. As much as we can, we need to love, be, connect and just take it all in as if there is no tomorrow.

Merry Christmas!

XOXO

October is my favorite month, it’s the season that brings me feelings of comfort and coziness, as the California temperature turns from golden to gray and feelings of hibernation and slowness roll in. There is a shift that comes in October, a reminder that it’s time for some things to die or sleep and come back refreshed. And, the light that October brings is just so beautiful and sparkly. It shines through the leaves and the tree branches, through the ocean waves and the ocean-kissed sand. It’s pretty special.

October 2019

Worth saying though, I really love the summer, I love the bright California haze, the lakes, the golden-ness, the warm sand, the energetic, magnetic behavior of the Pacific, the mellowness of the hot summer days. And I love, love winter, especially in Tahoe, with the gray or bluebird skis, the sometimes snow and the sometimes no snow. And then there is Spring, where the trees are bright green and the air so fresh.

But fall. Fall has my heart. I think it’s from growing up in Vancouver where the trees turn all the colors. To this day, 30 plus years later, when I think of fall, I think of picking up tender maple tree leaves to use for a crayon rubbing project. I can feel them in my hands and see the bright yellow, orange and deep red. I also recall biting into the most perfect of perfect, vibrant MacIntosh apples, with insides so white, it felt like I was eating snow.

This has been an October like none other, but in many ways, I feel even more cozy, even more ready to settle in and watch the weather. The kids are at home, amidst Covid times and an impending election. I think there has been a secret wish living in my heart that I would get this opportunity to have my babies close, to see first-hand what they are learning, to watch how their minds work in relation to taking in information, following the teacher, accountability and organization. And they have amazed me.

Yes, it is a ton of work. But I keep thinking, this is a (fingers-crossed) once in a lifetime world event and dammit, I want to make the most of it…and I think we are.

Over the weekend I put on BooFest, the Curious George movie that my kids have loved for years and years and years, which we always watch through the month of October – No Noggin’ is no joke, and I am not typically a fan of kid shows. Anyway, to my utter dismay, my boys weren’t interested. Reality slammed into me, once again this year, that everything is flying by and each moment and season matter dearly. Blinking back tears.

Anyway, this October has proven to be my favorite of all time. I get my kids here with me, I was able to steal away for a long, long weekend with my favorite friends for some time in the Sierras – which I am literally still basking in and the weather has finally started to cool and shift.

I’m excited for what’s to come, for a new and interesting holiday season, for simple and fun times with our pod, to watch the kids as they grow and learn and adapt and flex. Kids are quite extraordinary! And so complex, but so simple at the same time. Cry, breathe, hug, repeat.

I am happy. And so so so grateful.

Mamas Getaway (Heaven)

At the end of all the days, but especially special after the long days, the days with battles and fights and compromises, tears and the odd bruise or semi-savage bite, we unabashedly crash into the softness of the impending velverty night where all the sharp edges melt away.

We crash into cozy beds with good books, star projectors, audio meditations, cuddles, clean teeth, air purifiers, lavender, sweet-smelling heads and the odd shriek or lost lizard squishy or dropped lovey.

These pics are our bedtime, a rare bedtime, as Noah is out watching basketball, and wow, I’ve got to hand it to Noah here, as he is chief and captain of wrangling our boy dragons to bed. It’s no small feat.

I fall asleep only moments after our biggest dragon baby breathes his last fiery breath…but still, with all this effort, with all this messiness and loudness and bandaids, I never, ever want to forget what they were like at 4, 7 & 10. When we are still Mama and Daddy and they still hold our hands…

It’s fleeting and it’s fast.

Every single night, Matty heaves over his top bunk and kisses the top of my head and says a million I-love-yous (literally close to a million). No matter how hard the day was, or how tough bedtime is, he is present and intentional with this goodnight love. It was only yesterday I rocked him to sleep…

Benny wants a cuddle in his bed and after he’s tucked in, he loves to run down the hall to my room to get extra cuddles. His last words are often, “I love you more than the world,” but “world” is pronounced, “woad” and it makes my heart explode.

Our baby dragon is sleeping in our room these days on a little cozy cot. It’s all my fault, I love having her here. Because when she’s gone, it’s the first separation and then there will be another and another and another. Not ready. But don’t be fooled, she’s a fierce and fiesty baby dragon who gets her own food and takes zero crap, she’s as independent as they come.

Sleep well, my baby dragons. I’m watching over you.

Trying to focus on the good…

I’ve decided to focus on the good I see in the day-to-day moments of these very strange times we are living in. We always say, “the time flies by” and “the days are long but the years are short” and since I am obsessed with pictures as memories (and my kids!), this feels perfect.

I have loved how social-distancing/quarantine has stripped away a lot of chaos and frankly, a lot of nonsense, from our lives. We miss regular life, especially friends and family, and we will most definitely miss trick-or-treating, but this is an EXPERIENCE, where we will look back and it will feel fleeting…like a flash in time.

I know that things will go back to normal before we know it and there is lots of richness, growth and opportunity, right here in front of us, with this gift of togetherness. LOTS of togetherness. And so much weirdness.

Come with me on this journey to save and savor all the good in this madness…

With LOVE and in solidarity XOXO

I’ve never had an (actualized) fear of heights, I grew up on ski hills from a very early age.

I’ve also never had any conscious fear of something happening to myself, although I have more than a healthy worry about things happening to those I love.

If you ask my kids what they love the very most about their mom, they would say, “She’s brave.” Trust me, I’ve asked. But, I do think they know that I am deathly afraid of spiders, the Noro virus and great white sharks (but that doesn’t keep me from jumping off boats into the open ocean).

So in regards to fear, I had such an interesting and sort of shattering experience a few weekends ago.

I’ve skied for almost 40 years, up rickety, two-seater, practically vertical chair lifts (Big Red/Little Red, Divide, Tee Pee Town), that lasted 30 minutes, and skied down double-black diamonds in blizzards. I’ve watched my sister break her leg right in front of me down a double black diamond, and had to watch as she was helicoptered off of a mountain. Brave Kimmie.

However, something absolutely scary happened to me during our past trip to the mountains.

It actually started the weekend before as Noah and I were going up the “learner” chairlift (sans kids) in order to get over to the bigger lifts. I’ve been up this lift a million times, and there was probably a much bigger snow pack beneath as there was no snow in February, making the height less of an issue, BUT, all of the sudden I had this insane moment of vertigo and absolute terror.

My whole body started shaking and in tears started pouring down my face, and it looked as if the chairlift post was coming at me and then I felt myself falling. F A L L I N G. It was utterly startling for Noah, who is not used to me 1) Crying and 2) Losing it while skiing. I decided to test what was going on and after we skied down, we went over to the chairlift to the right, which is much more advanced, and was absolutely fine on that lift and all the others.

Fast forward to the following weekend when we decided to really get our kids skiing. They’d been on the magic carpet and on the hills around the cabin, but I wanted to get them proficient on longer, steeper runs and conquer that darn chairlift. My amazing sister who is both ski patrol and a nurse, with an absolute heart of goldt, offered to take my kids out on the hill one by one with huge success! The second day, I decided to take my boys out (again, one by one) on the starter chairlift (the one I freaked out on).

It was hard as unexpected as waves of foreign feelings flooded over me that were beyond my control. I first took my niece and my oldest son up…

Kids are so amazing, they pick up on so much more than we realize they will. I really felt like I was faking it quite well until my sweet niece asked me, “Auntie Lisa, are you okay? Is this your first time on a chairlift?” I couldn’t believe she could possibly sense a single thing. I stuttered and tried to sing, “You Are My Sunshine” and I’m sure I sounded like a strangled cat. Other than that, just sat there silent, rigid, yet shaking, absolutely overcome with fear. Literally overcome.

My sister was on the chair behind us, and Matty knew this and wanted to turn around and wave. And every time he even moved a single finger nail, I felt extreme terror. It was at that point that I literally bit through my bottom lip until it bled. Once we got off, I skied down with the kids and the fear dissipated.

In an attempt to prove to myself that I was not debilitated by fear, I decided to take Ben up within 10 minutes of this first ride. I was determined to push through the feelings. However, my little Ben is too small to put his bottom all the way on the seat where the back of the chair meets the cushion, if he were to do this, his skis would almost be in his face, so he kind of had to sit on the edge so his skis could hang. Which felt like 10% of his rear was actually on the seat. All I wanted to do was hold him close to me or even just put my poles across him, but I was terrified that if I did this, he would move and slip. I could barely speak as we rode up this chairlift, and all I could picture was him slipping through the bars and down onto the hard packed, corduroy snow. My heart is pounding as I write this.

I’m just still sitting here thinking, what the heck happened? What is this about? I still want to be that brave, fearless mama. Being outside with them is where we are all at our best, that is where I shine and it’s a big deal because I feel like I’ve failed them.

I will not never ski with my kids. This is something that I will need to solve and work through. I am very thankful to Noah, who instead of thinking I am nuts, has been full of compassion and grace. I know I have 30 years of skiing with my kids ahead of me.

“Nothing in life is to be feared. It is only to be understood.’ — Marie Curie

“Fear keeps us focused on the past or worried about the future. If we can acknowledge our fear, we can realize that right now we are okay. Right now, today, we are still alive, and our bodies are working marvelously. Our eyes can still see the beautiful sky. Our ears can still hear the voices of our loved ones.” — Thich Nhat Hanh

That bite of a grilled cheese, with the perfect amount of texture, the difference between the crispy bread and the melty sharp cheddar, a moment of pure bliss and indulgence.

My cozy, pure white, Boll and Branch sheets that I crawl into at night, with the nostalgic smell of good ole Tide and Downy, the cloud of my down comforter, the cotton surrounding me like a huge hug.

The smell of rain, reminiscent of my life as a happy-go-lucky kid growing up in lush, green, cloud-dense Vancouver, BC.

All of these little fleeting moments keep me…well, they just keep me. Hopeful and alive.

Then there are the days when I wake up and the sheets don’t feel as soft as the night before and there is shrieking from the other room. I tell myself, “No matter what, it’s going to be a great day. You are going to stay calm and the kids will be amazing”.

There is a crash and my lotus flower votive, the one given to me by one of my dearest friends, shatters. I clean it up. Then someone hits another with a sword, you know – a sword – the kind I swore I would never, ever buy. Then the guilt washes over.

I think of the rain, my sheets, a delicious grilled cheese, my kids’ soft, sweet-smelling hair, their hand-drawn pictures, their art with sloppy hearts and almost-illegible letters spelling out, “MOM”.

We head outside. The fresh air will be so good! And we will run around and play soccer and jump on the trampoline (as I clench my pelvic floor). We will draw with chalk and play in the sandbox. It will be perfect, sunny and shiny and calm.

Then, the swords appear, and someone screams from the trampoline, they are fighting over the chalk and the sandbox has cat poop in it. Cat poop.

Then they somehow come together, a trio of beautiful energy, gorgeous little angels, and I snap their pic and I post it, because it was a gorgeous moment I always want to remember.

There are moments, maybe 20 minutes of sharing and laughter, like they are all on the same wave for just a moment. I see their hearts as we run barefoot in the grass, watching for turkey poop and broken sprinkler heads. We all fall together, laughing and wrestling until one pinches the other and everyone cries. Even me (on the inside).

We come inside with mud streaked feet and faces, hands in desperate need of washing due to the handling of many, many lizards. Everyone is everywhere. One needs a Lunchable, the other needs the potty and one needs his iPad, although it’s been shattered for several weeks.

I balance, I hustle, I wipe my feet with Clorox wipes because it’s all that’s in reach, and I find that the smell is actually comforting. Bleach, it’s reliable and takes away the yucky stuff. Yum. I like it. I can count on Clorox to always be there.

Balance. The hard and the easy, the dirty and the clean, the mad and the happy, the chaos and the calm…this is my life.

It’s my husband’s birthday today! Cheers to my partner, my inspiration, my everything, my love – he deserves so much more than we made for him!

Last night, I made (Birthday) Pot Roast for the first time in my life. It was literally melt in your mouth! We ate the entire thing in one night. Even Matty, our red meat protestor, ate it!! I was overjoyed! I believe that love is passed on through food and this was just a LOVE overload!

It was sooooo simple. Melted some butter and olive oil, seared some onions, then seared some veggies. Set them aside and then seared a 3lb chuck roast on all sides. De-glazed the pan with some red wine and beef broth and popped it all in the oven at 275 degrees for 3 hours. Oh, and saltedthe meat and added rosemary and thyme to the broth. Holy heck, yum!

YUM!!

I forgot to take a pic of my plate, but this was my sweet daughter’s portion

This morning, thanks to the kiddos, we were up at 4:30am!! Which, I suppose was fine, because we had a big breaky planned for the man of the house. We made Croissant French Toast with Maple Glazed Bacon, oh emmmmm geeeeee. This was super easy, so decadent, and I always consider it a huge success when my entire family eats it.

And, my sweet little Quinny enjoying every bite : )

We love you SO MUCH, Noah! You are the light of our lives and our rock.

HAPPY 36th BIRTHDAY!! XOXO