Thursday, February 16, 2012

Mr. T & The Feathered Mohawk

I have abruptly disengaged my vehicle to a halt.  Currently, I'm at a 4 way stop when it comes to the title of this post.  Here's what I got brewing:

  1. Peter Pan's Rodeo
  2. My T and His Feathered Mohawk
  3. Who's Behind That Comb Over Called Bangs?
  4. Prints-a-Plenty
Eli & Casey tag teamed this photo shoot.  When you get specific instructions from your freshly turned 5 year old to "quit slouching" you know it's time to double up on the calcium intake.

Let's rap here, shall we?

Ensemble Statistics

Shirt 1:

  • Magenta sweater
  • Limited brand
  • It has real cute drawstring ties on the shoulder that make it all flirty like.  
  • Love this in the Spring by itself with a pair of white boat pants and a patterned heel
  • It's a thin sweater like material.
  • Looks great alone with a chunky shorter necklace too 
  • Goodwill
  • Paid $2.00.

Shirt 2:
  • Navy & white 3/4 length sleeve 
  • Gap brand
  • I have worn it alone with cowboy boots and white shorts before...CLASSICALLY SPUNKY.
  • It also looks great paired with turquoise and then once again with lavender.
  • Goodwill
  • Paid $2.00


Shirt 3:
  • Merona brand
  • Great under layer shirt.
  • It's tight so you can trust that as you add more shirt layers, you won't get that blousy, bulky feeling.
  • Goodwill
  • Paid $2.00


Broach:
  • KILLER COOL.  
  • Totally looks like a family heirloom.
  • Rhinestones are chunky fun yet give off that "old money" vibe.
  • FREE!
  • An older lady friend of mine was just gonna toss out her old junk jewelry to the trash and said I could have anything I wanted.
  • WHAT A SAVE!!!!  

Jacket:
  • Navy & white
  • LOVE the whimsical floral pattern 
  • Gap brand
  • It's a shorter jacket so it actually accentuates the layered shirt look nicely to me.
  • Yeah, I turned the color up.  Don't be hatin' on me.
  • I totally look my Dad in this profile.
  • Yes, my lips naturally rest this way when I'm not talking.  Weird, I hear you dawg.
  • Goodwill
  • $3.00

Feather:
  • My step mother-in-law bought me a feather pack set of 2 that you can just clip in when you want a little ooomph.
  • Eli and Casey's Nana knows me and the serious amounts of happy joy this treasure brings.
  • It's a party in my ponytail every time and you know this.


Hair: 
  • 2 days dirty.
  • For those of you with long hair, you KNOW this is the miracle of the ponytail.
  • Bangs...can you say it's time for a haircut?  
  • No, I'm not any relation to Donald Trump.
  • A special thank you to the big barrel curling iron for taming my 3 cowlicks in my bangs.  That's right. THREE.


Earrings:
  • OUTTA THIS WORLD WONDERFUL!
  • These were my great-grandmothers.
  • They're clip-on.
  • aDoRe the floral pattern the rhinestones make.
  • I lose feeling in my lobes up until about 15 minutes after I have had them off.
  • Beauty is pain, people.  


Bracelets:
  • I am the Mr. T of bracelets.
  • It's time you know this.


Scarf:
  • Navy & white polka dots
  • Makes me SOOO happy every single stinkin' time I put it on.
  • Goodwill
  • 10 cents


Pants:
  • leggings
  • dark charcoal grey
  • It's the new black, you know.
  • TJ Maxx
  • $3.00 clearance


TOTAL spent on outfit:  $12.10

The Peter Pan in me immensely enjoyed this ensemble.  All day long I felt like Eli & the Face were my Lost Boys.

Mixing prints and layering on offset colors schemes is all kinds of happenin' in the fashion world.

Take it from me, Mr. T.

Well, would you look at that?  My vehicle just found itself in drive.

.mac :)

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

He's my guy.

This is my Valentine.

He is strong.
He is stubborn and quick witted. 
He is creative too.
He adores music and traditions.
His spirit is feisty, loyal and deep.
His heart: a tender place.
His optimism is abundant.
And, he just gets me.
Like the quick read on an opponent's offensive play, he knows the next thing out of my mouth as well as the one roaming around in my mind not yet spoken.
He pushes me for the good.
He hates feet and always will.
No matter how long I beg for a foot rub, it just ain't happening.

He is mine.
And, I am so lucky to share the space beside him for as long as God will allow.
Our love story has been one of love and laughter, leaning on and letting go, living up and listening more.
Our love story has been together to make it work.
Being his wife is my pride and joy.
I adore every ounce of you, Coach Cobble.
You have riveted my heart right next to yours.
And,  I can think of no other place I would rather be fastened.

Happy Valentine's Day,
your wife

Monday, February 13, 2012

Rent Waiver

I am loved.

And, the sentence above make my toes turn up and smile.

As my mind settles in on the ones who have a space in their heart occupied just for Meghan Alicia, my 4 chambers heap up all puffy like with honor.

These people don't even ask me to pay rent or even a parking fee in that ticker of theirs.

Simply put, they just love me.
For me.

I am thankful for a mother-in--law who brings me tulips.

These planted will be my beautiful reminder that in her heart, my rent is never due.

Love you, Carlene.

.mac :)

Saturday, February 11, 2012

~bookworms~

When my work nights begin in the studio, I love nothing more than coming down the stairs, making a right turn and finding the 3 men in my life doing this.

The silence of this scenery sends me head over heels in love with the connection these boys have to their Daddy.
Without words.
Without TV.
Without toys.
{WITH EACH OTHER}

All in worlds far, far away within the pages turned.

My bookworms make me smile.

.mac :)

Friday, February 10, 2012

Telling It Right

Just outside our property line and about a stone's throw from our driveway is this divine treasure.  We can hear it with the windows open; its rhythm rush is crystal clear the moment we step outside our door.

Tackling has been a word used in many facets this week within our family, so it seems only fitting that the boys and I did just this.  We tackled the stalks and stumps, the pricketty thorns and mud mines too.  We made our way out; we made our way over.

Layers of gushy growth and what seemed like magic rested under the running ripples.
And, this is the part I don't want to mess up.  I want to invade time's space for just a bit only to muster every  real, honest moment into type.  I do not want to forget.

I want to remember that we homeschool.  

And, there are days gloriously full of flavor where the learning is rich like the watery greens above.

And, there are days that suck.  Days when I wonder why on Earth have we chosen this?  Yes, days when my mind longingly wishes I was sporting the khaki-navy blue uniform of this establishment for a breezy 8 hour shift rather than be confined to teaching our children in our home.

This day was a muddled mix of both.  Don't you know how eagerly I want to share a dreamy picture?  I do.  But, what I want more is to learn; to listen; to live honestly and find my dreams there.

So the story goes, 

Homeschooling a 1st grader and a kindergartner doesn't seem too complicated, does it?  

It is and it isn't.

I have a master's degree in education with 7 years of multiage and looping methods of instruction under my belt.  I have never been a textbook teacher.  In all of my W-2 years of teaching, I only used the state standards and textbooks as guidelines or sounding boards for the content and skills needed to be covered.    I enjoy being creative.  Energy and movement excite me.  And, I am a sucker for the fine arts.  I have always loved learning when it was applicable and life driven.  Additionally, I have always set high expectations for my students and myself.  

Kenny and I decided to homeschool because we wanted to soak up and soak in every bit of Eli & Casey possible.  We wanted them to love one another as brothers more than anything else in the world.  We wanted life's pace to be fluid and deep for them.  One where play and work mingle and minds move without even noticing.  We wanted life where worksheets, basal readers, 15 minute recesses and 20 minute lunches did not exist by and large.

And, on this day, the teacher in me was SCREAMING for a worksheet.

Grumbling, the 3 of us made our way over to the neighboring creek.  I had been so looking forward to this journal time.

And, it seems as if the majority of our day was spent searching for the rhythm the 3 of us had misplaced.

That happens more often than you think with homeschooling.  

With my camera jostling to and fro around my neck as my words of inspiration and melodious hen pecking left my mouth, we journeyed through the briars and brambles drawing nearer to our writing space.

Griping and moaning was a rampant spirit in our camp.

So, I stopped.  Mentally, I turned the teacher in me off.  I shut my mouth.  I decided the push was not worth the pull, do you know what I mean?

Casey, a self starter, immediately surveyed the creekside.  He ooo-ed and awww-ed over the rolling sounds.  He lapped the water with his tongue.  He picked up and rolled over 3 big rocks.  Then, he quickly began unpacking his supplies to begin.
He sloped the creek perfectly.  I love that he chose gray, brown, and moss green for the water color.  


Eli, the grumpiest of bears that day, sidled off to himself.  He was quiet and still for a long time.  I wondered just exactly what he was thinking about.  I noticed how securely he has my father's figure.  I felt distant from him, and so longingly wanted to pry.
I remained silent.
After a little while, he commissioned the binoculars for a closer looksee.  He studied for many consecutive minutes the water's ways and what might just lie underneath its thin surface.
A color pencil man through & through, he opted for marker.  It spoke volumes to his offset-ness in demeanor and rapport.
As if taking the lead from his little brother, he began to sketch.  They worked in silence. Water moving, I watched on.  Slowly, the time became sweet.  It was that chance I got.  To watch discord reconcile even if for just a brief moment.  
The recommendation was made by Eli to finish their journals in the house.  Casey obliged.  I simply followed.
Yet, Casey being ever-prepared and quite the popular one, had to stop to take a quick phone call on Mom's cell phone, without a battery, circa 2005.  It was a private call, you see.  Eli and I had to move on ahead as Casey confirmed he would catch up with us when he was done "taking the call".
Eli griped incessantly about these sticky burr bushes.  I personally loved their texture.
Casey caught up with us just in time to take note of this barren tree yet not lacking in massively dagger-like thorns.
Our day moved inside where writing time finished.  Math too.

And, 2 hours later, I was holding the face of my sweet 6 year old as the stomach bug won victory in the war that was raging all day.

In the middle of the madness of involuntary regurgitation, Eli gazed up me with watery eyes deep red with strain and said, "Mom, I'm so sorry for this."


No, sweet boy.  
I am.

And, this is the part I don't want to mess up.  I want to invade time's space for just a bit only to muster every  real, honest moment into type.  I do not want to forget.

  • Life isn't a worksheet to complete.  
  • No, the khaki-navy uniform isn't breezy if you ask the one who actually wears it.
  • Rhythm's rush is crystal clear the moment we all step outside our door.
  • Guess what? It's even within our walls.
  • Massively dagger-like thorns are waiting for us all.
  • There are times more often than not, when the push isn't worth the pull.
  • Discord can reconcile even if for just a brief moment.  
  • We all want to share the dreamy picture.
  • Sometimes you have to tackle the stalks and stumps; the pricketty thorns and mud mines too.  
  • What one sees as burrs another finds as beauty.
  • Perhaps we all should carry a cell phone without a battery from 2005 from time to time.  
  • The water's hue is made up of many colors: not just one.
  • When you longingly want to pry, sometimes you learn more if you're just silent.
  • You have to make your way out to make your way over.
  • We should want more to learn; to listen; to live honestly and find our dreams there.
  • There's so much of us all that might just lie underneath the thin surface.
  • Life is a muddled mix of both.
On this day, I reminded that life's rhythm is tackling the tough, timing your story and telling it right.

I do not want to forget.

.mac 

Thursday, February 9, 2012

{authentic}

pungently the astringent tingles
a surge of crisp particles
chalky & fine
i scrub onward and around
{again}
swirled bristles of a wire ball
and i think
of littles 
and bigs
and in betweens
onward & around
a ball of bristles
movement requires action
pressure breathes life to penetration
scum
germs
mildew
overgrowths and yes, even underneaths
i rinse
metallic shocks sent out
{new}
a thorough cascade of water clear entices even more glimmer

purpose
movement
onward & around
a ball of bristles
astringent
washed 
{clean}

AUTHENTIC

God, thank you for the bristles of a wire ball that you are.

.mac 

Friday, February 3, 2012

What the truck?

Goodwill treats me right more times than I can count.

This shirt is my rhythm logo for this week.

I mean, there are times in your life where you just wanna say, "What the truck?"

And, about Wednesday, I  called out "Oeyoa. Oeyohaha".
I decided to submit to the elements.

Gloria Estefan and the Miami Sound Machine said it best.  The Rhythm is Gonna Get You.

I thought this collage might serve as visual reminder of what's went down.

I tried to be honest with the highs-n-lows.

That's a lie.  

The razor is wishful thinking.  I haven't shaved these legs perhaps since New Year's Eve.  No worries though.  All other areas of grooming are all systems go.

That's another lie.

I might just scrimp a tee tiny bit on washing my hair.

I promise I go no more than 5 days between washings.

And, that is the truth.  

Have I gained some accountability back with you yet?

Hope so.


I compare my week to the girl out on the dance floor who wants to break it down and get all funky-like, but her feet just never find the beat.  Nor do her arms.  Her hips.  Or, her face for that matter.

Ever watched THAT go down?

It ain't pretty.

And, here I am.

The dancer in me HATES to do this but, I decided to sit a few songs out until I catch my groove. If you need me to, I can hold your drink or your purse.  I'll even keep an eye out to see if that cute guy is inching his way over to you.

.mac :)
Related Posts Widget for Blogs by LinkWithin

k.Mac Visitors