little black journal

Admittedly, I wallowed a bit on Friday.  But sometimes I need to be down before I can be up again, so my grief wasn’t all for naught – after a bout of heartache, I eventually climb out of my hole and more genuinely appreciate life’s little blessings.  And this weekend was full of these glimmers of goodness…

Like my beautiful latte at Vivace on Saturday morning, sipped over a particularly good book club meeting with the ladies.

And my perfect, moist frosting-topped cupcake, a super-thoughtful little gift from Erica.

My new gray wedges and black heels, cause sometimes shoe shopping really is the best medicine.

Sunday morning brunch with Shane at our favorite cozy Irish pub, complete with Mimosas (for Shane), hot coffee (for me), and thick, crispy bacon (for us).

The satisfying feeling of tiredness that came after a run along Lake Washington.

And then spending the rest of the afternoon in my pajamas, drinking tea and painting and listening to the lastest Coldplay album.

I’m also so thankful for the people in my life that pull me out of that hole when I find I’m too tired to climb out of it myself – the kind comments and text messages and hugs and cupcakes are like new shoes for my soul – merci, friends.

In the course of my schooling and career, I bet I’ve taken hundreds of tests. Nine months ago I took a new kind of test – one of the easiest ones I’ve ever taken, but also one of the most significant. I saw those two little pink lines and I lost my breath. I got all light-headed and tingly and my mind struggled to keep up as I sat on the bed next to Shane and said, “I think I’m pregnant”. We had wanted this for awhile, but somehow it still came as such a surprise. That morning was a euphoric blur of trying to take it all in and still keep our cool – we snapped a few goofy pictures in front of the mirror with that little stick of proof held out in front of us, we said a prayer thanking God for this miracle, and then we went about our day as normal. Except it wasn’t normal – I spent the morning secretly Googling due date calculators and early pregnancy symptoms and things I should and shouldn’t eat. I walked around the office with a sly smile on my face and looked at my pregnant coworker with newfound feelings of camaraderie and sisterhood. I marked February 17th on my calendar as the little one’s due date. I thought about shouting out our news over the office intercom, but I restrained myself – I wanted this to be Shane’s and my special secret for now, just in case. But just in case what? What could go wrong? We were prepared for this. We were healthy, young, ready to be a mom and dad.

Two weeks later, it went wrong.

I started seeing signs that things weren’t quite right, and after a visit to the doctor and several follow-up calls with the nurses, my dreams broke into a thousand little pieces and the pregnancy was declared over.  Where there was once fullness and joy, there was now sorrow and grief.  Deep, sobbing, soul-shaking grief.  Over the previous two weeks, we had already become so attached to the little one, nicknaming it “Poppyseed” once we’d read that an embryo at that stage is the size of one of those little black specks. I had started imagining the ways we’d transform our extra bedroom into a nursery, I was wandering into the baby section of department stores, and I would fall asleep at night with Shane’s hand on my stomach, dreaming of him as a father and our moms and dads as proud grandparents.  But for reasons far beyond our human understanding, this particular baby wasn’t meant to be.  Damn.  Damn, damn, damn.

I looked in the mirror this morning and couldn’t stop myself from picturing what things would be like if Poppyseed hadn’t been lost. My belly would be big and round. Or I might have a wee little baby in my arms, swaddled in warm blankets and nuzzled against my chest. It made my heart ache.  But there is hope in the midst of sorrow, and so much love in the midst of grief.  So I’ll cling to the hope and the love and be thankful for the plans God has for us.  But I will also shed tears  for the baby we’ll never know.

There’s a part of me that wants to dislike Valentine’s Day – I know it’s become a “Hallmark Holiday”, full of commercialism and consumption and cheeseball sayings on little candy hearts.  But here’s the problem when it comes to me hatin’ on V-day:  I’m married to a man that decided to surprise me with a decadent French dinner at Chloe tonight and hold my hands across the table and be all romantic and stuff.  And really, who am I to turn down champagne and mussels and sorbet-topped meringue?  So I’m putting aside any bah-humbug feelings and embracing the mushy-lovey-dippy-doo.  Happy Valentine’s Day, Mr. Schnell.  It was fun to get out on the town and be all fancy-pants with you (and it’s also fun to sit here in our PJs and catch up on the Daily Show).  I heart you mucho.

The past couple days might very well go down as one of the best weekends of 2012.  I know, it’s still early in the year, so I might be jumping the gun, but we did some serious lovin’ life and livin’ large this weekend.  On Friday afternoon, we hit the road with Jack and La Verne and headed east to snowy Leavenworth for a big-bash weekend to celebrate Jack’s birthday.  La Verne had found an amazing house and loaded the car with food and wine, and from the moment we opened the door, set our bags down, and watched Jack pop the sugar-crusted slow-roasted pork in the oven for dinner, I knew: this would be epic.  The rest of the party people trickled in as the evening went on, and by 10:00, all fourteen of us were sitting around the living room, enjoying the warmth of a fire and the company of good friends.

It was dark when we arrived on Friday evening, so I was happily surprised when I awoke on Saturday and found that the house was perched on a ridge overlooking a river on one side a pear orchard on the other, in the midst of serene, snowy, pine-covered mountains.  I took one look out the huge living room windows and was ready to move in.

In addition to the incredible views, the house came with its very own ukelele – I couldn’t resist snapping a pic as La Verne strummed its strings and Shane gazed pensively out the window.  Such a Zen kind of morning…

A few of the guys headed out to hit the slopes at Stevens while the rest of us cozied up for a day at the house.  I changed out of my pajamas around 11 am and did a little yoga with La Verne and Alice, then showered, napped, read, had a living room dance party with little Gryffin and Isaiah (I would understand if Nancy never forgives me for introducing her boys to Britney Spears…), and generally reveled in the joy of a warm mountain cabin.  The clouds parted in the afternoon and Shane and I took a short walk to check out the orchard and the amazing little terrace overlooking the river.  We sat on a bench and took in the view while the sun warmed our faces – it was, in a word, perfection.

We all convened in the kitchen once the skiers got home and feasted on hearty helpings of spaghetti and meatballs – this was Mike and Alice’s first weekend away with the group, and I believe Mike used the phrase “eating like kings” at some point.  Welcome to life with Jack and La Verne, dude!  It’s goooooood.

We sat around the table and ate and played games and drank and laughed, eventually making our way to the living room to build a fire and sprawl out on the couches and floor for more laughter and story-telling.  Sometimes I wish I had a tape recorder for our bizarre, hilarious late-night conversations.  Then again, some things are better left unrecorded…  I went to bed that night with abs sore from so much giggling.

Sadly, we had to check out on Sunday morning, but not before enjoying a few more precious moments in the snow.

I’m so glad I documented Brian’s beard-stache combo while it lasted – he showed up on the doorstep on Friday night in a brightly wrapped box, and when Nicole told Jack to open his present, he found…this:  Brian had carved away at his beard and styled his facial hair extra-fancy just for Jack (who has admitted to a total inability to cultivate anything more than a patchy fuzz on his own baby-skinned face).  Sometimes you have to get creative when gift-giving for the man who has everything – well done, Brian.  Well done.

The birthday boy and his rockstar wife…

We stopped in the town of Leavenworth on our way home, saddened to have said good-bye to our party pad, but finding consolation in beer, brats, and gelato.

We made it back to rainy Seattle mid-afternoon, the weather here fitting for the post-party funk I quickly fell into.  On the bright side, I have so much to be thankful for in the friendships we’ve found in this funny, close-knit, brilliant group of people.  We have already declared this trip an annual tradition – and I’m counting down the days to 2013.

It’s been too long since we’ve seen those darling little girlies, so we headed down to Portland yesterday morning for a couple of days of  catching up with my brother’s family.  It was a quick trip, but so good for my soul – Elise and Morgan continue to be lights of my life, and I’m so, so thankful for our quality time with Mitch and Kathryn.

It was a sunshiny afternoon when we arrived and we were eager to get in a quick run to the playground before naptime.  Morgan is suddenly very quick on her feet – gone are the days of her scooting around on her chubby little arms and legs (sigh).  And Elise is nearly impossible to keep up with – that little lady’s abundance of energy astounds me.

We played hard, and then rested hard.  Uncle Shane tucked Elise in for her nap, and Morgan snuggled up with me in the living room.  Best feeling ever.

Kathryn booked a sitter for the evening and so the grown-ups went out for a night on the town.  We feasted on Indian food while chatting about family and travel and current events – I feel so lucky that the four of us enjoy each other’s company so much.  It’s a good, good thing when the family and friends are one and the same.

I love waking up to the sound of the girls chatting on Sunday mornings, getting out of bed and poking my head into the kitchen, where I’m greeted with smiles and sweetness and plans for a day of fun and play.

I promised Elise a special treat from the neighborhood coffee shop, so we bundled up and headed over to Posies for bagels and orange juice.

Elise was intent on stopping at the park on the way home, and so we spent awhile playing on the swings (huge hit), testing out the teeter-totter (not a huge hit), and climbing/crawling/sliding on the jungle gym.  Shane takes the cake as best swing-pusher ever – Elise squealed in delight as he propelled her from behind, from in front, and from…below.  Silly Uncle Shane.

We went back to the house and tea-partied and read and played music – Elise sang her own rendition of Five Little Monkeys Jumping on the Bed and strummed her guitar.  Mitch has high hopes for this one.

Morgan’s not quite ready for sing-a-longs yet, but what she lacks in verbal skills she makes up for in facial expressions.  Her winning grin is a guaranteed heart-melter.

Praise God for family and babies and Indian food and sunshine.  Life is grand.

Yesterday marked the end of our annual month-long practice in frugality.  31 days of no eating out, no shopping, no spending outside of regular bill-paying and grocery-buying.  It was a loooong January…  It’s tempting to ramble on about the things I missed or craved or bitterly denied myself, but I have to remember what a blessing it is that we do this out of choice rather than necessity.  The fact of the matter is this: we live a very charmed life.  So I’m looking back on the month with a couple of lessons learned, a couple of goals for the coming months, and a whole heap of gratitude for the multitude of blessings we enjoy that money can’t buy.

First, Starbucks is a non-necessary evil.  There are three Starbucks stores within one block of my office, and I had developed a habit of making not one, but often two trips in a day to indulge in a latte or Americano.  Not so much for the caffeine fix, but because I liked the routine of it – I liked the mid-afternoon break, the smile from my friendly barista, the warmth of that white-and-green cup in my hands as I walked back to my office.  And yet, I was surprised to find that I hardly missed my visits to the old ‘Bux around the corner last month.  The office tea cupboard is well-stocked, and let’s be real – that barista I felt so attached to didn’t even know my name.

Second, eliminating eating out from your diet usually results in a caloric decrease – weight loss may indeed a positive side effect of frugality!  However, if you’re baking chocolate chip banana bread and carrot cake with cream cheese frosting to pull yourself through the long, restaurant-less weeks, don’t even bother stepping on that scale.  Damn.

Third, it pays to rummage.  There were several days when my meal planning went amiss and we were left scratching our heads, staring at the cupboards and complaining that there was nothing to eat.  But when faced with the challenge, I unearthed the fixin’s for some pretty good meals – pasta with marinara sauce, curry noodle soup, veggie stir-fry’s.  Then there were the nights that I ate an apple and peanut butter with a side of chips and salsa for dinner.  Don’t judge.

Fourth, sharing a home-cooked meal with good friends at a dining room table beats sitting in a crowded restaurant (almost) any day.  We shared meals with our fellow frugal-ites (it’s become something of a movement among our friends!) almost every Sunday this month, and it was grand.  When at home, you linger longer, you get to pick the music playing in the background, and you can wear yoga pants and slipper socks at the table.  Nice!  Spending time in the warm and cozy kitchens of friends was what made feel the month feel not-so-bad.

We’re determined that this practice of discipline will influence how we think about consumption over the coming year – it’s not just about saving money, it’s about being more mindful of the “needs” vs. “wants” vs. “shoulds and should-nots”.  Lucky for me, my lunchtime burrito bowl with a side of chips qualified on all counts.  T.G.I.February.

I had a dream about Robert Pattinson last night.  We were at a party and he was being all cool and Edward-y (minus the sparkles), and I was being all swoony and silly, and then, in the wee hours of the morning, I woke up.  I suffered just the shortest moment of disappointment that it was over, but then I rolled over and I looked at my husband sleeping next to me, snoring in his easy, quiet way, and I thanked my lucky stars for him.  I bet Shane is reading this now and thinking, “Say what?  You snuggled up on me this morning and wanted to spoon because you had a dream about a Twilight character?!”  But honey, no, that’s not it – I snuggled up on you because I love you and sometimes I am just so stinkin’ happy that I get be yours.  That you get to be mine.

Sometimes I forget to be thankful, and I spend my energy nagging, or pouting, or pushing Shane away, and I’m sorry for that.  Because, really, my man in the bee’s knees.  Cases in point:

He makes me laugh.  Probably every day.  I was sitting in the living room last night blog-surfing and he was downstairs in the office hackin’ around (my phrase for his complicated technological exploits), and suddenly, in the midst of the quiet, I heard him belt out the lyrics to some old-school Rage Against the Machine song.  I poked my head into the office and he started playing the air-drums and wildly shaking his head from side to side.  He had his headphones on, and the fact that I couldn’t hear the music made it even funnier.   He may or may not have been singing for me, but I don’t care – I’m just glad to bear witness to his unabashed silliness.

He’s my #1 fan, my loudest cheerleader and strongest advocate.  He shares in all my greatest joys, never hesitating to tell me that he’s proud of me and remind me that I have the potential to do anything I want to do.  And he often tells me that I’m hot.  That’s awfully nice.

He’s a rock.  He’s steady under pressure, cool in the midst of chaos, affirming when life starts to feel kinda…ick.  And he never ever lets me feel like I’m going at it alone – even in tough situations that don’t directly involve him, he insists “We will get through this”.  Sometimes I’m bugged by the “we” that so often replaces “I” once you get married, but sometimes that little two-letter pronoun holds so much comfort.  We got through the stress of my licensing exams a couple of years ago, we carry each other’s burdens in work and finances and relationships, we figure out how to do life together.  His contribution might be as simple as picking me up from work when I’ve had an especially long day, but sometimes that’s all it takes for me to be reassured that he’s not expecting me to fly solo.

So…thanks, baby.  Edward ain’t got nothin’ on you.

Our winter wonderland has melted into a cold, dirty slush – this weekend was full of rain and dreary gray skies.  Hmmph.  So I’m seeking comfort wherever I can find it, drowning my post-snow sorrows in:

Fresh-baked banana bread – my second loaf of the weekend just came out of the oven, and the house smells like the happiest place on earth.  It’s cheap and easy, rich and moist, and so wonderfully versatile:  perfect for a morning brunch or an after-dinner dessert.  Shane eats it like it’s goin’ out of style.

Sunday afternoon football.  Not so much for the sport, but for the quality relaxation I get as I curl up next to Shane on the couch and read or nap while he watches the game.  Maybe because I grew up in a home of football fans, maybe because it’s something so inextricably linked with mellow winter weekends, but there’s something really comforting about an afternoon with the NFL.    p.s. Dang it, Ravens!

My Kindle.  I resisted the e-book revolution for a long time, arguing that there just isn’t any substitute for the feel of a book with flippable pages in your hands, but now that I’m a Kindle owner, I’m never ever going back.  I have stocked this itty bitty device with a dozen classics (free!) and am frequently taking advantage of the library’s list of e-books (free!).  Never again will I be caught without something to read.  Brilliant.

Candles, double pairs of socks, and blanket cocoons.  I feel like I’m in semi-hibernation, but I’ve made myself one heck of a cave.

Indeed – the return of the weekly sketch!  I’ve been off-track for a few months now, but I’m back – doodling, cutting and pasting, and, most notably, painting.  I have pulled out my crusty old watercolor set and am having a lot of fun re-exploring this medium.  I like the drippy, spotty texture of watercolor, especially paired with straight, fine graphite lines.  And hot damn, it feels good to be art-ing again.

spotlight (2011.12.20):

canyon tracks (2012.01.09):

pebble beach (2012.01.12):

drop-off (2012.01.17):

Seattle was abuzz on Tuesday with the forecast for a major dumpage of fresh snow – this city goes a little nuts when the weatherman deviates from the normal forecast of gray skies and rain.  At the first sign of a snowflake, transit becomes unreliable, many businesses close their doors, and Facebook is flooded with excited talk of “Snow-mageddon” and “Snow-pocolypse”.  Lots of Seattle-ites love to scoff at all the over-reactors while secretly stocking up on water and foil-faced blankets, but it’s true that we’re just not equipped to efficiently clear roads and create safe driving conditions, especially with the number of hilly streets that criss-cross every neighborhood.  Shane and I went to bed with clear skies overhead on Tuesday night, wondering what kind of mess we’d awake to on Wednesday.

Although the city wasn’t quite the disaster zone people had predicted, there were a couple of inches of snow on the ground by 8 am.  We were both tempted to call it a snow day and hunker down indoors, but Shane’s manager had said it was absolutely essential that he make it into the office, and I wasn’t too keen on using a vacation day to hang out at home by myself, so we boarded the ever-reliable Link Lightrail, simultaneously relieved and annoyed that getting to work wouldn’t be an issue for either one of us.

Downtown was quieter than I’ve ever seen it, with hardly any cars in sight.  The snow-laden trees and balconies gave a new vibe to the same streets I’ve walked down every day for the past several years – it was kinda magical…

I headed home a little early, instituting “snow hours” for myself at work, and settled into the couch with a hot cup of tea and a good chick flick.  Shane got home a couple hours later, and although it was dark by then, we were still eager to get out and enjoy our little winter wonderland.  We took a walk through the neighborhood, tossed a couple of snowballs at each other, and remarked over the glow of the sky and the quiet of the streets.

We were about to head inside when Shane eyed the big hill across the street from us with a mischievous grin on his face – 15 minutes later, he and our neighbor Justin were strapped into their snowboards, cruising down the road, whooping like little boys.  Justin termed it “urban snowboarding” – I like it.

Today brought more snow and icy roads.  Shane worked from home and I went into the office for a few hours, again leaving early when the City of Seattle put out a statement that commuters should try to get home before dark because of “treacherous” road conditions (“snow hours”!).  I rounded the corner when I got home to find Shane and Justin fort-building with the kids from sheets of ice that could be picked off cars – they had the start of a pretty good igloo going.

I know it’s Frugal January, and I know we said we wouldn’t eat out this month, but something about a snow day makes you feel like breaking the rules, so we asked Jack and La Verne (fellow frugal-ites) if they’d be up for making the trek over to Tutta Bella for a pizza dinner.  They agreed with minimal (errrr…no) arm-twisting, so Shane and I bundled up and walked down to Rainier Avenue to meet up with them.

And, wow, it was worth it.  We justified the evening by ordering off the happy hour menu (these pizzas are not quite so giant as they look) and reveling in just how good it felt to be “out”.  Turns out that a Tutta Bella dinner is a sure-fire cure for cabin fever!

It’s another cold night out there, and we continue to be so thankful for our warm home and steady supply of hot chocolate and fresh-baked muffins.  Tomorrow things should start getting back to normal, with warmer temperatures in the forecast.  I’ll be kind of sad to see this crazy weather come to an end – the playful afternoons and cozy evenings have added some variety to the seemingly loooooong Seattle winters.  Now if only I could afford to take up “rain hours”, life would be so much sweeter…