it is love…
February 15, 2012
dude on an electric scooter most excited about cotton candy kindness yesterday, he was awesome
My buddy Nora (age 6) wrote very simply on one of the cotton candy sticks…it is love.
And I think that said it all.
There were drive by cotton candy pick-ups.
People bum rushed by gaggles of small children so excited to pass on the candy love.
There was the most beautiful couple dressed in the most perfect vintage clothes walking away with their pink fluffy candy, like something out of a movie.
There were neighborhood kids that came back for thirds.
There were deliveries being made three streets over, valentine surprises met with so much delight.
There were meltdowns from sugar crashes, it was perfect.
It was a lovely, lovely day because…it is love.
Thanks to all who joined us and those who joined us from a far with so much love, we felt it!
GUYS! I forgot to tell you- It’s Random Acts of Kindness Week! I always forget it is a thing or a special week but we have a mission idea up for you every day over at the Guerrilla Goodness Facebook page if you want to play along!
(and thank you for all who offered me love and hope yesterday- the answer surprisingly came through, it’s a go…more news when I can share.)
this week…
February 12, 2012
well…last week, but you know…
a place all my own…
February 2, 2012
I shared a room (and usually a bed) with my sister for my entire childhood. The only time I ever had my very own room was for the one year when my little sister left for college and I still lived at home right before I got married. I was a child bride at 21 (well, almost 22) and have shared a room with my man and often 2-3 children at any given time for the last 14 years.
There was that stint where all 5 of us had what we affectionately called the “MTV Cribs bed”, it was two queen beds on platforms pushed together with pillows with each of our names on them. It was so cheesy, sweet and so weird. We ran somewhat of a toddler frat house where kids stayed up all hours; we all laid in bed and talked in the dark until we fell asleep every night. And then school happened and the party was over, we resigned to a routine and became responsible parents. Even through all this over the years, we usually all end up in the same room, no matter how much space we have.
This may explain why everyone was so disturbed 2 days after Christmas when I climbed up into the loft to clean.
“Mom! What are you doing up there?” someone small said from the bottom of the stairs.
“I’m cleaning this place out so I can have a studio!” I shouted down.
“What’s that?” she shouted back.
“A studio is a place of your own just for your art and work.” I replied.
“Mom, you don’t need a place of your own, you have us! …and your bed.” she said.
“Exactly! That’s exactly why I need a place of my own!” I said.
And the rest of the day, I cleaned and organized, dragged an old door out of the shed, found some old sheets and blankets. I asked Jorge to help me get the dusty door up to the loft.
“You’re gonna do what?” he said.
He laughed when my next request was for him to carry up an old tree stump two flights of stairs.
2 days later and 2 strands of twinkle lights, I had the prettiest little studio you ever did see. It doesn’t matter that you can barely stand up in the attic, it’s just perfect. And I spent a whopping $6 to make it all happen.
After all was said and done, I climbed up into my nest and the full out family revolt started. Every 10 minutes for the first 48 hours, some one came in to plead their case. Each with their own strategy.
“How’s it goin’ up there?”
“I miss seeing you mom, are you coming down?” (this was 20 minutes in)
“Mom, do you think we should have some girly time all together up there, because I can come up, no problem.”
“Mom, I made a picture to celebrate your studio! Want me to come up?”
“Are you gonna stay up there all day?”
“MOOOOOMMM! I neeeeed a drink!”
“Don’t you wanna watch a movie with me?” (the largest member of our family, who shall go unnamed)
And I held strong, and I kinda missed them (like the tiniest bit), and I realized how productive I am, and remembered I am a clean person, and I sat in awe of the silence when everyone finally settled in…and two weeks later I was working in bed again, but just a little, because it’s just nice to know you can have a place all your own, family revolt and all.
Please tell me in the comments if you have a studio (give us link to a picture) or if you don’t, what dreamy space are you planning in your head? It can even be a Pinterest dream studio- it all counts. I’d love to hear all about it.
a family of love and lost jackets…
January 28, 2012
It was a two hour trip to DC. I was just praying we would narrowly miss the Friday commuter traffic. It was a cousin weekend and the kids could barely contain their excitement because we all know, there is nothing better on the planet than cousins. They are like siblings but with out all the drama and everydayness. Not to mention the meet up and drop off point was IKEA, this meant meatballs and gravy while watching School House Rock and sitting on a bright green ergonomically correct chairs.
We rolled up to the family parking and started to pile out of the car. Jack hopped out with no jacket on and hands dug deep in his pockets, it was about 38 degrees.
“Jack! Where is your jacket buddy?” I asked. There was already that tone in my voice.
“I don’t know, I thought I brought it!” he responded acting shocked.
I don’t really know exactly what happened after that moment but a rant of sorts started. It wasn’t really yelling, it was the kind where I made him feel like total crap for this forgetfulness. I knew it was not just about this moment. It was the four jackets lost before, the four Columbia jackets I had so proudly found at the thrift store, the 57,000 reminders to put on a jacket, to pick a jacket up, the pleading to hang it on the perfectly designed mud room/station hook to make it easy, it was the whole entire spring when this child was three and jumped in every puddle known to man, it was old…and A LOT.
As it was happening, it was almost as if I was out of my body looking down on myself. I knew it was wrong, I could feel it…but I just could. not. stop. This may have only been about 4 minutes of ranting but it felt like 100 minutes or maybe a 1,000 to Jack. I muttered something about everyone getting back in the car and we were going to buy a new jacket.
And then she spoke. That Lucy girl.
“Mom, I am gonna tell you something right now.” Her voice calm but firm.
“Mom, we are a family of love, and you are being too harsh on Jackie-boy right now, and it hurts his feelings mom, it is just a jacket mom, just a jacket. …and jackets don’t matter mom, love matters and I just gotta tell you that.”
And I turned around and looked at Jack, his eyes watering, having just been rescued and righted by someone so small yet so wise, and said,
“You are right Luce. You are right. I am sorry Jackie-boy.” *big sigh* “Oh dear.” and that was all there was to say.
And I felt like a total jerk and so proud at the same time…because on some level there was space with these dear souls for rants, love and truth telling.
We bought a new jacket and I held it as he slid his arms in.
“Maybe you guys are so good, all that is left to complain about is stupid jackets.” I said while I hugged him so tight. He hugged back even tighter.
And two days later, he opened the car door at the car pool line and said, “Oh mom, I know it is some where…” his brow furrowed and eyes wide. I sighed and half smiled, because there is this sort of surrender and calm that comes after the freak out has finally been released.
and because…
We are a family of love, and lost jackets.
this week…
December 26, 2011
well, last week, but you know…
feel the light…
December 24, 2011
Merry Christmas to you all…hoping a kind light finds you and those you love this night.
I am so very grateful for your care, joy and love for me and my family this year, your kindness changes everything…may it be returned ten fold.
love,
patience
this week…
December 17, 2011
well, last week, but you know…
“No matter what the world, cruel world does to you, never lose your faith. If you don’t know what you believe for your self you’ll be what every one wants you to be. God bless you. “-JS
given to me by a very, very kind drunk boy (stranger kindness) in a bar years ago…
we are connected…
December 16, 2011
“I thought when you girls grew up you would just have happily ever after sort of lives…” my mom said on the phone one day. “I didn’t think you would have struggles, I just never thought about it I guess. Nobody tells you that…” she went on…
And then it occurred to me, I felt the same way. I never imagine my children will grow up to face hard things. It sounds almost silly to say it out loud because of course they will…but somewhere, somehow, maybe I thought I was carrying it so they wouldn’t have to. That if I tried so hard…to figure it out, to lay a path of love that they could just walk it with no harm to any part of their minds and hearts.
The ridiculous thoughts of mothers…even mothers that know there is great beauty and love in hardship, that finding our way through pain helps us really see the world and know we are alive, that kindness can find us anywhere, that each step, even the screwed up ones take us to a new place of understanding, that our joys are as great as our sorrows, that this is the human condition, that this is where we find and hold the light.
Then a few days later while putting up Christmas lights, Christmas magic descended on this mother…Lucy gave me a new perspective, something else to hold on to.
She will often randomly wish me a “Merry Christmas MOM!”, while brushing her teeth, or eating an apple or right before she shuts the car door to go to school…I wonder why we all don’t do this, like everyday of December is Christmas.
While we were stringing lights, just she and I in the dark one night, her Merry Christmas struck again.
“Merry Christmas Mom! The lights, the tree, the snow, the hot chocolate, the sledding, the love…Merry Christmas for ALL of it mom!” she proclaimed.
“Oh Luce…what a girl you are.” I replied.
“We are so connected mom.” she said very matter-of-factly while she fed me the strand of lights and I wrapped the tree.
I thought she meant the lights, my literal-teacher mind kicked in, but I threw in the deep, you know, just because that’s where I live in my head.
“We are, aren’t we? In so many ways.” I answered.
“We ARE mom, we are so connected, even in trouble, even when I have trouble! We are connected right?” she said.
“It’s true. Especially then.” I said.
And it was clear, there is no protection from life, even she knows that…but there is a love that can buoy us…and there is a shout of a Merry Christmas in the most mundane moments…
there is a place…
there is a way…
that we are all connected.
the message tree…
December 10, 2011
“Do you think you can keep on going, I mean you made Thanksgiving dreams come true?” I asked him. We cooked the entire meal together, were up on butterball.com on various phones trying to figure out exactly what you do to the outside of the turkey, we high fived when everything was suprisingly and ridiculously perfect with the meal and family togetherness.
“Let’s go for it! Push the family magic odds…we are on a roll and everything…”
You know, there is always this sort of holiday valley after those peak Everest magical moments…or rather a holly jolly nose dive into everything real. This was the Christmas tree excursion:
1. One of us, who shall remain nameless, was not exactly excited about the whole chopping-down-your-own-tree thing in the first place….but he/she went along with it.
2.The battery was dead when we got into the car to leave. Yet we weren’t thwarted, onward!
3. It was almost 3pm, the farm was an hour away, children still hadn’t even had lunch…yes, bad idea and parenting all around. So we stopped to grab food and crossed our fingers we could still make it before it got dark.
4. Kids were delirious upon arrival, the trees were sweet- although Charlie Brown-ish in nature, but still, this was just fine with us.
5. Jack and Josiah played tag until Jack’s shoe flew off and he stepped on a sharp twig or old tree stump- crying ensued.
6. Lucy begged/pleaded/whined for a tree nobody wanted.
7. We finally found one everyone liked except Josiah. Josiah also reminded us how often he has to suck it up- which is totally true so we decided he should get to pick the tree.
8. He picked a lovely, lovely tree…except when Jorge (the nameless) went to chop it down, he found a giant pile of dog poop.
9. Everybody laughed…because poop is funny.
10. We missed the memo that a kind tree farm friend would help carry the tree back, so Jorge carried it (along with 3 helpers that made it much harder) all the way back.
11. Got the tree measured and went to pay- tried not to faint when she told me the price- didn’t realize the fir trees were twice the cost of the rest of the trees. I smiled and gulped and told myself it was small business Saturday. Jorge whispered, “Merry Christmas!!” in my ear.
12. Kids got cider but there wasn’t enough and it burned Jack’s tongue. Everyone was now hungry for dinner even though we had just had lunch and on we went. Jorge said he would buy dinner to cheer me up.
13. I sighed/groaned like Marge Simpson and somehow soaked in the beauty of the pink sky on the way home…and managed to capture it from the moving family grouch mobile.
When we got home, I climbed in bed, ignored children, watched Hulu and slept. When I woke up very early, I found the tree in the corner with lots of tiny papers all rolled up and stuck in the netting. I opened each one and found little bits of art.
It was Lucy art- little post-its of sweet Christmas scenes, apparently her Christmas and tree experience was very much intact, still magical mountain stuff or maybe she had just moved on to the next moment. So I drew some pictures and messages and stuck them in the make shift tree mail box. We passed them back and forth for the next few days.
Part of me wished we could just leave it all that way and never open the tree up…but we did…and it was magical and messy and magical.
this week…
November 30, 2011
well, last week, but you know…
I am so looking forward to RVA Remembers tomorrow…hope to see you there.
in case you forgot…
November 29, 2011
how awesome it is to wear sparkly things and the first time your mom let you try make up on…
what little hands do…
November 28, 2011
pastels on bark
A crack and a thud left a huge limb on our sidewalk on Thanksgiving eve. I love how trees can just drop what is no longer serving them. As we were picking it up to move it, the kids started gathering the fallen bark. They noticed some really cool patterns on the inside of the bark. I went in to get some pastels and paper to make rubbings, but when I delivered them to the kids (which now included the neighborhood kids too) they just started coloring the bark instead. I think the best kid art unfolds on its own.
hearts are everywhere
The kids then decided to ding dong ditch their art which sounded like a great idea to me but may have been confusing to the recipients to open the door and find a piece of bark on your step, but you know…our neighbors are probably used to the crazy and random acts of even weird yet sweet kindness by now.
So I’m thinking if you are trying to get something done, like the list of 57,000 holiday to-do’s, some bark, leaves, rocks and pastels might be just the trick to keep little hands busy. I love when nature, art and kindness collide.
a few of the urban nature artists
Got any other simple kid projects to share?
the introvert’s dream thanksgiving…
November 27, 2011
“You mean NO one is coming over?” he asked.
“Yep!” I replied.
“And we aren’t going anywhere?” he said, clarifying the entire plan.
“Nope!” I answered.
“It’s going to be just us! Niiccceeee.” my dear introverted child said. Some times I wonder how that poor child survives in this family.
I have to admit part of me was sad, I missed cooking with my mom and sisters, being with friends, but there was this kind of deep relief also. This was the Thanksgiving when:
When your mate helps you make the turkey (and the entire meal) and for the first time in Thanksgiving history the bird was juicy, done on time with zero stress. He made Thanksgiving dreams come true with the togetherness.
When your child decides 2 minutes before dinner that he must come to dinner as a pilgrim and is rifling through boxes in the basement to turn halloween capes and a pirate hat into a suitable and proper costume.
When you have to tell little girls that they can not slurp the very exciting treat of blue Gatorade served in vintage green goblets with spoons and straws at the dinner table.
When you got ding dong ditched the most amazing pumpkin spice cake which sort of saved the day because the pumpkin pie you bought molded and you were already bummed you had to buy one in the first place. This cake dominated 73% of conversation the rest of the weekend just trying to figure out what was in it.
When laziness rules.
When you all go to see the Muppet Movie and cry over endearing Muppets and your childhood.
When you realize the amazing and very beautiful family love and connection you hold was born and has grown from an old and deep pain, and you feel kind of grateful and sad for this all at the same time. …and how you can always count on the holidays to bring such epiphanies.
When you know how deeply you are blessed and loved.
Oh, please share your holiday with us…what were your highs and lows? even better, give a link or a picture. This extrovert would love to know in the comments…
this week…
November 24, 2011
well, last week, but you know…
happy thanksgiving friends…hoping you are feeling full and happy today.
when the dark blooms and sings…
November 23, 2011
I go to her work to be reminded of everything true. She has a magical way of showing it to us, even the things that are hard are full of beauty. Her honor of living all of life is palpable and rich. I am honored to have my dear friend Cynthia Henebry share her art and life with us today.
This guest post is for Patience, in honor of the darkest time of the year. Darkness is essential to our noticing the light.
And find that the dark, too, blooms and sings
And is traveled by dark feet and dark ways”
Girl in the woods
Brothers’ hideout
Looking for stars
After the bonfire
Early winter moon
Cynthia Henebry can be found at www.cynthiahenebryfilmphotography.com and also on flickr at www.flickr.com/photos/cynthiahenebry.
this week…
November 6, 2011
well, last week, but you know…
spoken words of truth, dancing, kind notes, long days waiting for a very loved papa, saying goodbye…
Can you do something for me this week? If you are doing or have done some kind of kindness as a result of something on KindnessGirl, can you tell me what city you are in (in the comment section)? You don’t even have to tell me what, just the city is fine (but we love a good story if you have the time! 
) I’m trying to figure out how far and wide we are spreading this work…and kindness. Have a wonderful week!
takin’ the love to louisiana…
November 3, 2011
I know I’ve told you about our little street commune…it’s the sweetest community. You can read about some of the magic here, here and here. Well…one of our own is leaving, and we are so, so sad. Billy is playful and so kind, Heather is tender, open and giving…and it’s no surprise that my children adore them. I got a chance to spend a little bit of time with them before they left to take all that goodness to Louisiana…boy are those new neighbors so lucky! We’ll miss you guys!
liamstein and all the things…
November 2, 2011
Liamstein
It was dark, pouring down rain and cold no doubt, but the kids just kept going. “The NEXT one!” Lyra would shout and on we went. Those kids sure worked for that candy.
Even in the dark, the kids were still coming together because nothing brings children together like Halloween, costumes and candy goodwill.
“What are you?” the small child, no older than three asked.
“I’m Frankenstein!” Liam answered.
“Who is that? A scary monster? the little boy said.
“Actually, he was no monster, he was gentle and very misunderstood.” his mother piped up.
All I could think about is how we are kind of all the things…
Written in 2008-
You are not so small to be just one idea, thought or emotion. You can be pissed and grateful, brave and scared, tired and hopeful, sad and yet full of joy…you can be all the things. There is space for all the hues, dark and light. When we try to be just one, we quiet something else.
Let it flow…and everything starts to make sense.
…maybe part monster, maybe part gentle soul, maybe part scared or misunderstood. This thought or concept has brought me so much comfort over the years and taught me so much about family life. It took me forever to figure out, my kids could be grouchy, or we could have a rough family outing and *I* could still have a good time…that I could be kind of annoyed yet still give myself permission to enjoy a moment or have my own experience entirely. It sounds small but was so big for me.
I have found myself in new ALL THE THINGS territory this week…somehow it spilled out onto forgiveness and conflict, which is so very hard for me. I don’t like being wrong because for so long I worked so hard at being “right”, thinking of it from every angle, trying so hard…making friends with my humanity has been a long struggle-caring so deeply, not wanting to think I have been unkind or thoughtless, those mistakes feel so deep for me. I end up justifying behavior or explaining a reason for my actions…when really I am still all the things.
I realized I can be sad, disappointed or even angry in a conflict and still own my part, be sorry. I can be wounded and make space to forgive or be sorry little by little, I can be wrong and a little bit right, I can honor each part. Then the light moves in, giving you the kindness you need for yourself, the kindness you can now offer. It doesn’t feel so big, so deep anymore…
…and once again kindness changes everything.
this week…
October 31, 2011
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this week…
October 22, 2011
well, last week but you know….
Breathe it all in, Love it all out art idea piece is compliments of this rad diy project and blog…and vintage card catalog compliments of some thrifting, yard sale-in’ besties who shared their double score. Best present ever.
i swear…
October 14, 2011
We were on a staycation this week…well, it ended up as a bit of a disaster, I’m calling it the workcation, but there were some truly lovely lazy moments. I swear some of the best family times happen on lazy mornings when everyone congregates to one bed and hangs out…doing a whole lotta nothin’. (except the climb-over-the-rail and fall on the bed trick)
the great pumpkin and doing it yourself…
October 12, 2011
her first, totally, completely self carved pumpkin:
There is this sort of evolution to discovering you can do something yourself. I know it sounds super trivial or simple, but I feel kind of like a little girl every time it happens.
Something presents itself- usually pretty organically.
An idea pops into your mind.
If you’re me, you wonder if you indeed can do it.
You gather your tools and courage. (for some of us or for the biggies, this can take FOREVER!)
You make many, many phone calls to trusted advisers and dear friends that serve as beloved shrinks to be sure this is indeed a good idea.
You sort of fumble around in the beginning.
A tiny misstep here, a major screw up there.
You scratch your head, or wail- depending on how big the required course correction.
You feel like it may not happen or you dig in, deeper than ever.
You look at it from all the angles.
You finally realize, you were meant to do it all along. You had it, deep in your heart you know it.
You hold it up to a light.
You did it. YOU did it.
You worship it…and yourself. (maybe just for a minute or maybe for a really long time)
You bliss out…until the next something presents itself. But every time, you hold a bigger piece of yourself.
Thinking of you today, for whatever something is waiting for you discover- you are doing it.
this week…
October 6, 2011
well, last week, but you know…
the ordinary jazz hands…
September 20, 2011
My life sort of feels like a musical at the moment, of the Maria Von Trapp, High School Musical variety. The moments of climbing mountains, finding dreams or just trying to get my head in a new game are bountiful, oh, and there are LOTS of jazz hands.
I have moments of being paralyzed, just in awe of the swirl of recent goodness, wondering how I ended up here exactly and overwhelmed by what to do next. Then I glance over at the dishes piled up in the sink, or a small child insists on a princess cup, or you sit with your best friend at the kitchen table listening to stories of her artist amazing mom who passed away too soon, or an old neighborhood kid needs a ride home because he missed the bus and it is now raining, or you obsess over what words you should say to make something right to a friend, or you head out to a bereavement photography session, or you realize there is no milk for the cereal in the bowl…and life rolls on, as it should.
And you realize the magic of your life lies somewhere between the jazz hands and the ordinary. That great joy and hardship (along with with the mundane) almost always exist together. I always thought it was one or the other, forcing you to choose. It is when we honor and allow both to be that we find peace.
Your beautiful and messy life, the great successes and all the ways you can barely keep up, it is a gift to the world and to yourself.
this week…
September 18, 2011
well, really last week, but you know…
If you are a new friend from the O Magazine…here is a good place to start! So happy to have you…
this week…
September 9, 2011
well, last week…but, you know…
making friends with your irrational thoughts…
September 5, 2011
lyra grace
Her eyes alone can tell you she is almost three, ready to take on the world with the waffle headband and cherry boots she’s been rocking all summer. I have looked at this picture about 1,000 times this morning, mostly because she is making me crazy and I need a little reminder that I am actually in awe of her. She’s demanding and passionate, insisting that everything be done just so and now. She’s completely irrational.
For months I’ve had my eye on getting some big kindness work done, calling into being the ideas and dreams I’ve held close for quite some time. Something so exciting coming just this week (stay tuned) became a sort of deadline, the spark needed to set the roaring fire going. I’ve known for months, feeling the weight of the time approaching and still I procrastinated. It’s like almost impossible for me to work any other way, not to mention my kindness ADD where I am constantly distracted by the never ending opportunities surrounding me every where I go.
As I was gearing up my inner three year old this weekend, to call in all the help I need to pull something grand off, the flu descended upon my house. Well, upon Jorge actually.
The flu, THE FLU. We went from pulling all nighters, throwin’ back the redbulls and high fivin’ in the morning over the amazing work done to please, please oh God, please don’t let it spread, massive amounts of Emergen-C, Lysol is now your best friend, hazmat quarantine, I can’t believe he is more than man-sick and HOW AM I EVER GOING TO GET IT DONE? …and I was mad, so mad because I thought it was going to be my time, mad that I procrastinated, mad my children were needier than ever, mad that my poor husband had the flu.
How can you be mad at someone who is deathly ill with the flu?! Hello irrational thoughts…
The weekend went by, I gave impeccable care to Jorge with almost no bedside manner, barked at children and was generally grouchy and miserable. So this morning I woke up, threw on a waffle headband and some running shoes, prayed that Pandora would hold out and not stutter and freeze on my crappy phone and ran. And for some strange reason, the Girl Talk channel spoke to me, the Universe conspired and played the exact right song after song until I reached the park where I promptly sat down and cried. …and I felt better.
On the way home a wise friend told me I may want to make friends with those irrational thoughts, sit in the humanity for a bit…so I could let them go (and not resent my dear family or treat them badly). …and she was right because even when you are 3 or 34, you really just want someone to hear your rant, hold you and tell you all will be fine…whether you can’t have ice cream for breakfast or your spankin’ new kindness website won’t get done in time.
It’s really all okay… because the ice cream and website will be super sweet when the time is right. and you will get it…because you have your power headband on…and your cherry boots.
this week…
August 24, 2011
well, it was really last week…but, you know…
we should all…
August 14, 2011
we should all do some more couch diving…with brightly colored head bands on.
