Mr Stehly

We just got all packed up for our annual camping trip to Big Sur and I probably should be taking a shower and going to bed but this post has been nagging at me all week. I know the last thing I wrote about was pee, but I've got to flip the switch a little bit. And I'll be gone for a week (lucky you) so you can sit with this all you like. If you like.

When we first moved to this little town we knew just one family. But it wasn't long before we met another family. And it wasn't much longer before that other family became a bit like a second family, to us. But the thing about the Stehly's was that they were already big enough. Mr and Mrs Stehly were both from large families. They moved to Fillmore and bought a ranch and started to work the land. While they worked the land, they worked their vocation. And that ended up meaning 11 children by the time they were through. But that didn't stop Mr and Mrs Stehly from wanting us around, too. They wanted everyone around.

Their ranch became a little piece of heaven for us. We would always default to the ranch when friends came to town. It was the only way we knew how to show off our new home. If you came to visit us here, we probably took you there. We would hike way up in the hills past the pomegranates or up through the lemons to watch the bees working. When baby goats were around, we would walk them through the grassy paths and chase them from the avocado trees. We would wander through Mr Stehly's expansive gardens with grocery bags in our hands, collecting what we wanted, as much as we wanted. Beets, carrots, tomatoes, corn. You could show up any day of the week and find him bent over in that garden. A couple of times I brought him cookies or muffins as a sort of offering in exchange for how very much they gave to us. And he would always stop right where he was to eat with that kind of joy that turns people back into children. And that was the true magic of that place. It was them. 11 grown children, plenty of grandchildren, enough people. But we could drive up that road at any time and pile out of our van with any amount of new faces and Mr and Mrs Stehly and whoever else was home would still meet us with a wide grin, and a "Where have you been?" and a grocery bag for picking.

We would often sit in front of them at mass and without fail, no matter how crazy and disruptive and tantrum-filled the past hour had been, Mr and Mrs Stehly would find us afterwards to tell us how great our kids had been. They'd tell us how they couldn't believe how happy the kids were, how happy they made them, and they didn't know how we did it. But of course they knew how we did it. They did it times 100. They always deflected the focus off of their many accomplishments and turned it back to us. Every time. They really loved us. They really loved so many.

We were at the ranch in July for an afternoon and I noticed the garden was more bare than it had ever been. And it seemed fitting evidence for what they'd all been saying. He had been very sick for years, slowly moving towards his last days, little by little. Mr Stehly was dying. I don't think I ever believed it fully until I saw that dirt so bare.

He died two weeks ago. And all this backstory of how lovely he was is important. It's important because we were able to experience the weeks and days leading up to his death, and it was just as beautiful.

For the past few months it had been clear that he was coming towards the end, and the last month or so showed massive changes in his condition. In one of our last visits, he laid in the living room while his eldest son (a priest) celebrated Mass for us right at the foot of his father's bed, surrounded by family. In the visit after that he wasn't able to get out of that bed, and by the next visit he wasn't quite able to talk. Our final visit ended up being just 3 days before he died. We didn't even expect him to be awake at all, but when I sat down next to his bed with Peter in my arms he opened his eyes a teensy bit and said "Peter!" in the softest, happiest way. The same way he said his name every time he saw him, the same way he said Johnny's name when he was just a baby.

And in that moment it struck me what a gift we had received, to be taken in by this family. Not only allowed to participate in their life for all these years, but to participate in the death of their beloved father, husband, brother. To see such a peaceful death, to know the hope Mr Stehly clung to as he died, the hope his wife and children clung to as he died, and to share it with our children.

I had never watched any of my grandparents die, and I realize that not many people do. It seems so often the elderly disappear into a medical wilderness where they never come back. But this was a different way. We watched Mr Stehly's body get weaker and more tired, and we were able to touch his frail, soft hands and kiss his face. We learned how to tread softly as we entered the room where he lay, how to gauge who was at his bedside in that moment, and how we needed to respond to them. We learned how to stop to visit with Mrs Stehly and how to grasp towards an awareness of what she was losing.

Then the simple, wooden casket under the altar of our little, familiar parish. We watched Mrs Stelhy and her children and grandchildren mourn their profound loss but, also, celebrate a deep, quiet joy- in the life he lived so beautifully, in the death he died so beautifully.  His sun-beaten straw hat rested on that pine box, with freshly picked oranges all around. The funeral Mass celebrated by his own son, concelebrated by countless other brother-priests. Countless.

What a gift to see it all.

Those rosary beads wrapped around his fingers, that soft, happy way, that Peter! all those surprise bags of tomatoes on the porch, the fresh orange juice for Christmas, those grown up children sleeping on the floor around him as he died. Those 60 years of marriage. Heroic life, heroic death. Gift-giving the whole way through.

Peepocalypse Now

Pee is seriously taking over my life. Have you seen my hamper lately? No?

It just seems like all the big kids are in this bizarre rotation of forever peeing. We will take them to pee before bed, then we will wake them up to pee when we go to bed, and then, always, without fail, someone will still pee. That is three pees since going to bed without drinking any new liquids. How is that even possible?

The other night Johnny peed in his bed, so he came to sleep in our bed. But then, when we went to go to bed we found that he had peed in our bed (on Kirby's side, harrr) and before the morning Mary had peed and Clemmy leaked through her diaper. SO.... what I am trying to say is, it's a real shit show over here in the pee/sheets/blankets/people waking up crying/people crawling into your bed with soaking wet underwear/etc. department(s).  Imagine my DELIGHT when my first sponsored post opportunity came along and (well well well) it was for Pull-Ups. LOL said the universe.

Pull-Ups: Hi, would you like to use Pull-Ups for zero dollars and write a blog post about it?

Me: UM, YES

or the patron saint of peed-on sheets straight interceded on my behalf and God's answer to me was 

JUST BUY PULL-UPS.

'k.

So, thanks to Huggies for sponsoring. There are only two brands for sale at our local grocery store and one of them is the cheap brand that gets peed through (ahem) and one of them is Huggies, so, win.

But I am realizing that the big thing about Pull-Ups is that they are supposed to be for potty training, right? (If you haven't already figured it out, I am the reigning queen of potty training so do yourself some favors listen to all I say.) But let's be honest, potty training Clemmy right now seems a bit like ugh, barf to me. I am sure that's because 1. all the aforementioned pee and 2. all the aforementioned pee. I just don't want any new pee right now! NO NEW PEE. But I still consider myself pre-potty training (if that's a thing) and it seems like everyone has tips for this stuff so I will give you mine. 

1. Have children

2. Diaper them, every day, many times

3. After approx 29 months, notice they can pull up their own pants, kinda

4. Realize that means they could pull up Pull-Ups 

5. Buy Pull-Ups

6. Spend your newly freed-up parenting energy washing everyone's pee sheets

7. Lose your mind
8. Remember you have Pull-Ups

9. Stuff any recent pee offenders into 2/3 year old sized Doc McStuffin's. Boy/girl, no matter. 

10. Be happy

11. "

12. "
13. "
14. "
15. "

16. Think about potty training sometime early Spring 2015
17. Make a gin + tonic

It's simple! 17 simple steps...

Tonight I laid on a floor pillow and took photos while Clemmy got herself ready for bed. Herself. Dreamy.

I am planning on unparenting this diaper situation as long as possible but when the time really does come, I think I'm headed here to check out some new tips and/or tricks that I might have missed along the way, because there was no such thing as a Big Kid Academy when we potty trained Hero. No such thing! In the meantime, I still signed up because coupons!! (Hello, duh)

And when I do get there (to potty training, not to the Big Kid Academy), if you were to ask me really, really how am I going to do it I would tell you this...

1. Wait until Clemmy can pull down/up her pants and undies (essential!!)
2. Hose off floor potty chair that has been in the dirt in the backyard for 18 months (or buy new one via recommendations here)
3. Show her where the potty is
4. Grit teeth
5. Make a gin + tonic
*6. Keep buying Pull-Ups forever, amen.

(I'm sure I helped you times a billion)

(You notice the sheet-free/recently pee'd on bed, right? This is not a joke!!)

Also, can someone from Howtohangthingstraight.com get in touch? I'm open for sponsorship.

Best new thing there is alert (+ giveaway)

A few months ago my friend Brooke gifted Jenna with the cutest pair of baby moccasins I had ever seen. As she unwrapped the package at her baby shower/cocktail party, all heads simultaneously whipped towards Brooke and a unison "WHERE DID YOU GET THOSE??" rang from our lips.

Where, Brooke, where?

Turns out she got them from a little homegrown shop started by friends in the next town over. Say what, Brookie?? How did I not know?!

I quickly hunted them down and ever since, Little House in the Orchard has jumped to the top of my list for kids gear. I ordered Clemmy a pair of the sweetest hand-drawn leggings (lemons + hummingbirds!!) and am saving my pennies for a pair of avocado ones. I also snatched up a few headbands for my girls and the most buttery, softest, cutest coyote-toed baby moccasins ever, ever, ever for baby P. I also feel like this shirt should be already super huge and sold out everywhere... that's not just me, right? Essentially I want all the things but a girl can only do so much damage per pay period.

I fangirled Rochelle and emailed her to tell her how much I loved the things she made and not only did she invite us over to explore her beautiful home and surrounding orchards (lemon and avocado!) but she wants to give away a pair of moccasins to you!! (Or one of you anyway.)

But we need to give her a gift back, right?

I know the perfect thing.

Magically- in the midst of me finding out about Little House in the Orchard and fangirling, and emailing, and ordering... Rochelle (along with her awesome husband, Brian, and their little blondie baby, Autumn) has been nominated by the Martha Stewart brand as a finalist for the Martha Stewart American Made Award!! Only one of the slots is audience choice so we can help get them to the top. This brand is so special. If only you guys could go tromping around the orchards with them. If only you could drink lemonade in their kitchen with a view of the avocado groves! Rochelle and Brian are truly made from the goodest stuff. This Little House deserves every last little thing. Let's help them win.

See what I mean?

SO.
1. Peep their site.
2. Be momentarily distracted to swoon.
3. Watch their cute intro video.
4. Love them even more.
5. Vote for them!! (details on the Little House website)
6. Come back here and enter the giveaway.
7. Go back there and buy all the things.

Rochelle, you are inspiring!! Thank you for this! xo

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Berk2k14

First of all, thank you for truckload of empathy you delivered after my last post. I was seriously feeling a bit over the edge and you tipped me back. Bless you all!! In light of that, I thought I might take this moment while a fan blasts in my face and while my children are engrossed in episode of 867 of Liberty Kids/school ($8 for the entire series, by the way... ) to write about the ways I've been making my own life insane. Or just one way, actually, in the form of a sporatic turn around trip to Berkeley to see The Head and The Heart headline The Greek. It's only right that all my complaining about the craziness of life be understood alongside me doing things like this. On purpose. What I'm trying to say is don't feel sorry for me all the way, it's my own damn fault.

Anyway, Berkeley.
(via grainy iPhone pics)

We have seen Kenny play a lot (side note: if you didn't know, my little squirt brother is in a band called The Head and The Heart. More here and here.) But we always see him play in Los Angeles where he is usually swarmed by old friends and family and us. Those nights are always a rushy blur of super fun and amazing, and we never take our kids because a. it's always a super late night and b. it just sounds tedious and terrible and we don't want to. That is usually the right decision but the sad trade off is that my kids think their uncle makes YouTube videos for a living. They've never gotten to experience how awesome it is to see a person you love dearly walk across a brightly lit stage to the tune of thousands of screaming fans, which (if you've never experienced it) is incredible.

The band is also on the tale end of their tour and we won't get another chance to see them in this scope for a while. Since I am a pushover when it comes to my little brother, he suggested we come to Berkeley and I was like OK.

Kirby had a meeting he couldn't get out of but my parents wanted to come along so the 8 of us loaded up in two cars and headed north to the Bay Area.

We made the drive in about 7 glorious hours filled with not much screaming from baby. After we washed up and put the littles into jammies, we headed to the venue. Kenny met us at will call where we hugged a lot and we picked up our tickets. He made sure we were set and walked us through the gates towards the backstage entrance. Lemme just tell you, babe of a piano player, cruising through the packed ticketing area of his own concert, holding hands with many children... yes.

It was so fun to watch the kids experience the crowds and start to piece together that all of this was because of thier Uncle Kenny's music.

We went to the backstage area and all amazement about Uncle Kenny was quickly overshadowed by the amazement that is free food and beverages, cozy leather couches, and twinkly lights.

As the second band, City and Colour, played, we walked to the side of the stage to watch for a bit. I always love this vantage because you can see the band's view of the crowd, which is pretty mesmerizing. Magic for children and adults.

Finally it was time for Kenny to go on so we found our spot in the crowd and got settled in to watch. And when they walked onstage, and when the crowd roared, I looked over and I saw this.

And I knew it was good that we came.

Mary launched into full party mode the second they started to play and she didn't let up the entire night. Johnny, however, fell asleep two songs in, sitting completely upright with his legs crossed. (True story----> see grainy pic)

The show was amazing. Every once in a while I get hit by waves of gratitude that my brother is in a band whose music I *actually* like. It would be so sad if I thought his music was terrible. But I can fangirl sing every word to every song with the rest of the crowd and I love that. At one point Kenny swung around on his stool and managed to find us in the crowd. When the girls saw him waving at them from the stage, they burst out in excited, frantic waves and high-pitched squeals from our perch near the sound booth. So perfect. By the end of the show everyone was gone but Mary, Peter and I. Johnny and Clemmy were asleep on couches backstage and my mom and Hero eventually got tired and wandered back, too. My dad wanted to watch the encore from the side of the stage, so he left just before the end. The crowd sang every word of Down in the Valley and Mary and I sang along as loud as we could. It was so fun spending the night with my party-baby. Is this accurately describing the overwhelming cuteness that this all was?? I hope so.

Anyway, after the show, I piggy backed her through the crowds towards the backstage entrance. We high-fived every band member and found Uncle Kenny to give him a hug and tell him how perfect it was. The backstage area was totally alive with friends and family now, all eating, drinking and merrying in buzzy-post concert glow. I think my favorite moments were watching Mary and Kenny exploring the empty stage at the end of the night, with the lights still on but the theater empty. I found them standing in the doorway of the backstage opening as the gear was loaded off the stage and it struck me, again, how incredibly proud I am of my little brother, his bandmates, and the music they make. And how grateful I am to be able to share his world with his nieces and nephews, whom he loves so dearly.

Soon, all the others kids + my mom (bless her) were passed out on the couches backstage. Kenny and my dad loaded all the floppy, sleepy babies into our little minivan, parked next to their giant tour bus. We kissed him goodbye and headed to the hotel. I always get super sentimental after we leave Kenny when he is on the road. The night is always such excited blur and when it's over I realize that this is really his life. The nights we can participate feel so unique, but they are just one night out of so many for him. As we drove back down the 5 towards home the next day, he was in the air on the way to Toronto. It reminded me, again, that this wild journey he is on as a gift that is handed to few. I want to watch the whole story if I can.

(I realize how weird this pic is but it's the only bro/sis pic I got! ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ )

A little bit dying

I was juuuuuuust about to straight copy + paste Grace's post but then I decided to be an ounce more original.

Plus, I already kinda did that "life is so crazy wah wah" post like, last week. But guys, it's still so crazy. Partly because I've been making it crazy, partly because it just is. Our days just feel insane. Please, some veteran homeschooler tell me this is normal? We are just three weeks in and I've already given a good amount of thought to enrolling Johnny in preschool and enrolling everyone in school and our clean laundry pile (which is very, very expansive) has been transferred from our bed to the papasan chair in our bedroom over and over and over since the before weekend. I have only brushed my hair once this week and my fridge is filled with gross, wet bags of unused greens and there are fruit flies in my kitchen and the acv traps aren't working and everyone keeps peeing their beds and it's so hot outside which makes it so hot inside which makes me very much want to buy air conditioner. I can hardly keep up with anything but no matter how crazy the day/night/day is I still have to teach them things the next day.

It's really cramping my style.

But I also really want to be homeschooling and I really believe it will all be worth it. So, I'm going to keep pushing through.

This is all normal, right? Things are going to start to straighten out, right? Someone bestow some e-back patting on me because I am seriously in need of a lap to curl up in and someone to tell me it's the way it always is.

On the super worth it side of things... first day of school pics.

+

xoxoSOSx____xoxoxsosxo____O :**********(xoxososwahwahcry

(BUT SERIOUSLY THO)

New Staple

I don't mean to sound extreme or anything but I've totally found the yoga pant 2.0 and it's not even a pair of pants. It's the kimono! (I know I'm probably like 3 seasons or 30 years behind or something but I'm ok with that) Back on track... What are the best things about yoga pants anyway? They are comfy? Forgiving? Pregnancy and postpartum friendly? Wearable over and over? Let's cross check that with the kimono. Comfy, forgiving, wearable in all shapes and seasons, oh and, breezy, feminine, flattering, cute, etc. This is the momiform for 2014 and beyond. Yoga pants are going to go back to just being yoga pants. Quote me.

I first heard about White Plum via Grace's blog back when she posted about those scalloped shorts. They were so cute. I never did snag myself a pair even though she dangled that 20% off deal in my face. But turns out that on top of being producers of cute shorts, the White Plum people are really wonderful. The whole brand is totally a by a mom, for moms company (which I love). So when they asked me if I wanted to pick out a thing or two to try my answers were yes and more yes. The first thing that jumped at me from the bunch was this kimono. And we've been in love ever since.

I mean, I am not even hawking kimonos (I wish I were hawking kimonos). I am a genuine believer. To prove to you how very serious I am about the importance and versatility of the kimono in any and all mom wardrobes, I've taken about 3,000 selfies in my dirty bathroom mirror as evidence. I really know how to drive home a point. You're welcome.

Feast all your eyes.

Ex 1. Scroungey me this actual morning with bronchitis. White tee (very ironed), black sweats, kimono. 1000% better because of what? Oh yes... the kimono. Nothing like some sweet, floral embroidery to bring you back from the dead.

Ex 2. Still scroungey me but maybe I want to go to the grocery store? Maybe I want to go out with Kirby but keep it super casual? Maybe we can all agree that talking about hypothetical me is weird? Anyway, I kept the same white tee and the same, you know, kimono, but dropped the sweats and added my favorite high-wasted jeans. High-wasted jeans plus yoga pants 2.0? The momest. The bombest momest.

Ex 3. How about make-believing it's the everyday me? Another tee, cutoffs and... kimono. I tied my hair up in a bun without brushing it just to keep it really real. I would probably wear this with my Converse high-tops and my gold cuff, if I could find it...

Ex 4. Dressed up kimono! Can you dress up the yoga pant? (No, the answer is no.) Throw on your favorite skirt and done! I would wear this to Mass, to a baby shower, or as an everyday, breezy/dressy look which sometimes I am in the mood for when I'm not sick. I'd probably brush my hair, too. Only diff.

Ex 5. Same tee, White Plum fleece-lined leggings (the most best) and old faithful. Casual, at home coziness but with that extra ounce of dignity that inspires one to swap out sweats for leggings. I imagine this cutest with motorcycle boots or riding boots. Neither of which I have.

Ex 6. But what if your boyfriend or husband wants to take you out that very night? Leave on your momiform but swap out the tee for a LBD and boom. (with booties) (also, take your hair outta that bun) (and brush it) (maybe)

Top it off with a sultry date-glance and a dirty shower curtain. Bing!

I think this list is pretty much endless, but I don't want you to hate me so I'll stop BUT but, isn't this an amazing discovery? I'm so pumped on my new staple. It makes everything extra cute. I'm going to assume you agree but if you don't, well... keep it to yourself. 

Now if I had another one of those coupons I would get myself this poncho and this cardigan and this dress and maybe about 37 pairs of leggings. OH WAIT, I DO. If you use the code FIKELIFE20 for the next week you can get 20% off at White Plum. Isn't that rad? Did you search "white plum coupon code"? It's ok if you did. Thanks for sitting through all my bathroom mirror pics.

P.s. my kimono (which is the best) was sold out except for large and that's what I'm wearing. Embrace the L, it's worth it.

Thanks for being so cool, White Plum!

Go forth and transform your everyday wear. (I'm watching you)

jk, I'm only watching your Google entry searches.