We're back from Dallas and The Hundred Event.

What an amazing amazing event - so many exquisite details, so many things to learn, and so many old and new bloggy friends to chat and laugh and chat with. Lauren, Grace, Bridget, and Megan done did this right.

I was pretty intimidated to pack myself and my dinky family blog up for a real blogging conference, but I quickly connected with Blythe, Nell, Olivia, Britt, and Katrina. We started a group text, and then we were off to the races.

I went to sessions on freelance writing and photography, I discovered lots of new brands, and I got to hear Kendi herself talk about her blogging journey. I made new friends like Katie and Joanna and Kelly and Taylor and Indiana.

And. The. Food.

I might have to become a restaurant blogger now. On Saturday we had pizza from Il Cane Rosso: some of the best pizza I've had stateside. And I used to live in Italy so that means I have a lot of autorita on this subject.

And THEN I ate one of the most delicious sandwiches of my life from Ruthie's Party Truck. If you live in Dallas, go hunt that truck down and have yourself a Summer Chick Special before the season is over and then join me in never using anything but muenster on a grilled cheese ever again.

We pulled into our driveway in the wee hours of the morning, stumbled ourselves and our littles into bed, and one short sleep past we woke and bought a house.

?!?!?!?!



?!?!?!?!?!?!

More details to come.

#Edel14

Edel Edel Edel. (For the half dozen of you non Catholic mommy bloggers: I went to a Catholic women's conference called the Edel Gathering over the weekend. This post is shaking down to be my recap.)

               Hallie   Jen                Bonnie                                Christy       Kelly   Haley      mygirlAdrienne

Edel was kind of a blur. An awesome awesome blur. The kids and Jacob were with me since we were all en route to a wedding Saturday night. I knew going into Edel that I would miss the Saturday evening festivities because a dear friend was getting married that night. I also knew the conference would not be the relaxing and rejuvenating experience it was meant to be because I would be dodging back to the hotel room between sessions to nurse a clingy nine month old.

We stayed at the La Quinta up the street from the Omni, and after we arrived on Friday, Jacob took Jake for a swim in the hotel pool so I could get ready for the evening's cocktail party. I fidgeted and fidgeted with my hair, mad at myself for the mop of neglect it has become, put it up, combed it down, considered taking a shower, felt guilty about not just growing up already and paying good money for a good hair cut. I eventually managed a lackluster braid and slumped down on the bed to check the interwebs for some #edel14 love. Jacob got back from the pool with the toddler, looked at Lucy June on the floor of the hotel room chewing on a remote control, and then helped me through my minor meltdown concerning an old stain on the only dress I'd brought (prepared who?).

Jacob helped get the stain out and gave me a pep talk. Then I pulled on my cowboy boots and moseyed over to the Omni for the cocktail party. I wondered if I would see anyone I recognized in the lobby, but as soon as I walked through the glass doors I got so nervous I just stared at the ground and basically 007ed it to the elevators. After waiting six minutes (a lifetime!) for the elevator, I finally made it to Adrienne's room. Adrienne is one of my blogfriends turned real life friend, and we'd already decided to walk into this gig holding hands. I was nervous. So was she.

I couldn't make sense of the nerves I had. Or maybe I could. Over the years, this community of bloggers has become so important to me - it's helped carry me through these tough early parenting years. I'd thought about the possibility of a gathering like this for a long time, but it'd seemed so impossible. But thankfully Hallie and Jen are a little bit insane and a little bit magical because they made it happen.

I knew I didn't have the time to be nervous: I had so many people I wanted to connect with, that the connecting had to happen ASAP and I had to squelch any desire to appear cool in favor of marching right up to people and introducing myself. So Adrienne and I kicked back our first glass of wine and before I knew it, we were laughing with a five minute old friend about armpit stains.

Edel was electric.

Friday and Saturday were full of intros and little conversations and seeking out people that I wanted to say hello to. On Saturday afternoon, I was watching the countdown for when I had to leave for my friend's wedding. 1 hour. 45 minutes. 10 minutes. Soon I was giving Adrienne one last hug and running out to the street where my husband had been playing in the car for the past two hours with the baby while the toddler napped in his car seat.

We headed west out of town on 290; we headed west away from Edel.

Rushing to my hometown in the rural Texas Hill Country for this wedding, I could only think about how I was leaving this vibrant vibrant space that had collected women from so many places.

Two hours later and I was sitting on a white wooden chair in a crowd of people full of expectation - many of the faces in the crowd I recognized and even the faces I didn't recognize were familiar because of our common purpose. We were all about to witness something important. The buzz of Edel faded as I watched this friend walk the aisle in the most beautiful wedding dress I'd ever seen. The same wedding dress her mother and grandmother had worn before her. And I heard Hallie's words from the conference anew: "It is good that you are here."

Shamelessly stolen from facebook. 

Since that moment, those words have become like a song stuck in my head. Sitting at the breakfast table with my gentlemen and my little lady: "It is good that you are here." Nursing a baby to sleep and telling story after story to a drowsy toddler: "It is good that you are here." At book club with my dear Houston community as a dozen children run around in costumes and fight over toys and Jake spits on everyone: in a space beyond the din of the new five year old's harmonica, "It is good that you are here."

And now I must go to bed before I'm tempted to use another word like "din." Goodnight, friends.

Five of My Favorite Blogs

Hello there! We're at my parents' house, making it through the unseasonably cool weather by bundling up in my sister's 90's hand me downs. 

I'm linking up with Hallie today to throw some of my fave blogs your way. A couple are new to me and a couple are oldies but goodies. Anyhow, click and enjoy.  

- 1 -

The Magic and the Mundane

"Mum always used to say that whenever we were grumpy and irritable (even just one of us) she would worm the lot."

I can't remember how I originally stumbled on Olivia, but she has the most adorable family blog. She hails from the wilds of Australia. Her posts often feature some exotic creature or plant peeking through the sweet hands of one her beautiful children. And she says the best things like: "I was a slow as a wet week."

Check out one of their little adventures or enjoy some of her artwork or have a laugh.

- 2 -

Erstwhile Dear

"Good and plenty is a very brief feeling that I have for 48 hours after my weekly grocery trip, it dissipates at the same rate as the greek yogurt."

I can't believe with the amount of blogtrolling I do that it took me so long to find Rachael.  Erstwhile Dear is SO lovely. Rachael documents their family life in Boston with such grace.

Read about her learning to be a mom of two or enjoy her portrait project. Dreamy, understated, and delightful.

- 3 -

The Brez Blog

". . . while we ponder the structure of a perfectly just society. Or watch Netflix. One or the other."

I don't know, but having your husband in flight school for the first two months of your baby's life makes you kind of a rockstar. 

She runs. She cloth diapers. She's a riot.

- 4 -

Team Moore

"I have to get ready for a play date in the new hood this afternoon.  Let's be real, it's a mom date.  And she's from Ohio.  So clearly a match made in suburb Heaven.  I'm giving Anna a pep talk to not act like this:

I've linked to Emily before. Emily is hilarious. She's been one of the biggest perks of moving to Houston because now we hang out in real life. She blogs about the myriad mild crises of motherhood and fashion.

And now a break from catholic mom blog fodder to shout out an old graduate school buddy of mine who has the wittiest of blogs

- 5 -

The Curious Adventures of Wendy Kozak

from Note to Self

Stop writing in the second person.

And go grocery shopping, for god's sake.

Stop using hash tags ironically.  No one gets it.  #dummies.

Coffee and water are not interchangeable.  Drink more coffee.

She's the kind of blogger who sorts 19th Century American Writers into Hogwarts and weaves tales of postal intrigue and she writes so deliciously well that she's always worth a click and a read.

Alright. I'm back to the grind of watching the gusty winds in the gnarly oak trees and feeding poker chips to the baby.

She's the happiest little baby, but sometimes we all need our proverbial (or literal) poker chip fix.

How to Blog More - From Someone Who Can’t Seem to Manage It

A couple of months ago now, I wrote seven blog posts in seven days along with a slew of bloggy friends.

That week was a CRAZY week.

I had so much going on. I had people in town, extra mouths to feed, a baptism party to plan. Jacob was working twelve hours a day including Saturdays and Sundays. It was nuts, but I still somehow managed to pull it off. How? I'm sitting down today to reflect on that question. How did I write seven posts in such a full week, when I can't pull off more than a measly 1.5 in slimmer ones.

I loved writing so much that week. It was a challenge that I reveled in. I looked forward to clicking the publish button. I would draft posts in my head while doing brainless tasks like folding laundry instead of thinking about things like my teeth. I used to think that posting regularly would water down my content because I’m not that creative. But then I realized that - ahem - this is a blog, and I don't know the precise definition of a blog, but I would vote that it contain something about "the occasional watery content."

So why did it work that week? I've mulled it over and these are my non-brilliant answers:

It worked because I decided it was going to work. 

I treated my blog like a priority. Not even a big priority, just a priority. I remembered to set my alarm to get up early and write. I finished blogposts in the dark hours after everyone had gone to bed. I didn’t love all those moments, but I loved the activity of posting everyday. Of setting a goal and sticking to it. 

It worked because I could do it in increments. 

One excellent thing about writing is that you can stop it - when a child interrupts you, you can close your laptop and walk away. Now, walking away is is never ideal, but the ability to do it is a perk. Have you ever tried something like sewing during naptime before your infant sleeps for a reliable amount of time? It just doesn’t work. Every time I consider gearing up for some naptime needling, I imagine myself knee deep in a project when the baby cries, and while nursing her back down, the toddler wakes up and pins and needles and scissors and funfunfunfunfunfun. So while I love myself a good sewing sesh, it ain’t happening until the littlest familial is a more reliable sleeper.

So my glorious afternoon napping time has to be filled with something that can be interrupted. Writing fits the bill. 

Embrace your interrupted time, mom. 

It worked because I got a little help.

One other thing that was unique about my seven posts in seven days: Jacob made a priority of my blogging efforts. 

I felt silly asking him to do this: "Honey, I know that you work all the time and I barely get dinner made at night, but I wanted to take on a project that will make approximately $0.34 in Amazon affiliate links, and I need you to step up your kid-watching game so I can." 

But you know what? He said of course and then solicited my resident-brother to help too. Jacob helped because he likes it that I write. He likes that I keep a family blog. He wanted me to succeed. Can you believe husbands?  

It worked because the creative fire fueled itself.

Jen’s got me thinking all about this because of her Family First Creative E-book. So much insight in that little sucker. I gobbled it up. Or perhaps it was more of an inhale. I inhaled it up. And then I exhaled a happier human. It’s great. Get yourself one before the time runs out (i.e. in the next two hours.)

Anyhow, in her ebook, Jen writes about how writing gives her energy. So I've been organizing my daily activities on a spectrum with soul-sucking on one end and life-giving on the other. Blogging energizes me. I tend to be a better mother and wife on days when I post on the blog. 

This fact has me noticing Jacob's life-giving habits too. Take these two examples:

Scene 1: The other day Jacob worked one small job in the morning and then took my car into the mechanic in the afternoon. He was stuck at the mechanic for over three hours watching an ain't-my-baby reality show and came home afterwards miserable and utterly exhausted. It made no sense: he’d just gone and sat in a chair without anyone drooling on him or pulling his hair for three full hours, which is more of a vacation than I’ve had since October, and yet he seemed zapped of all lifeblood.

Scene 2: On a different day Jacob left for work early in the morning, worked hard till the afternoon, came home, turned around and built a fence in the corner of the yard where he planned to put the beehives and worked worked worked until dark. Did I love that he was busy drilling his fence together while I juggled babies and made dinner? No, sirree. Did I feel generally entitled to much more husbandly help than I was getting? You betcha. But that man waltzed into dinner and was so alive. I tried to put on my exhausted-and-it’s-all-your-fault face, but he was so happy it was contagious. He loves hard work. He really likes his job. He really likes hammering things. He really likes his bees. He looked at me with eyes full of gratitude and smiled right through all my frustration and said: “Can I give you a back rub tonight?"

All this to say - pursuing hobbies that we love is important, not only to encourage a life outside of our primary identities as parents/spouses/railroad workers/etc but also because it blesses the people around us to see us thriving. 

It worked because I told people I was going to do it.

Say it with me: Public Shame.

That’s the kind of motivation I need.

To blog more I will have to make a commitment to it, and it has to be a public one because my secret commitments never work. 

You get what you measure, they say they say, so today on April 28th - because April 28ths are as good a day as any - I commit to post on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays for the rest of 2014. Eeek. If I fail I will scribble a luscious scarlet A for Almost onto the nearest piece of scratch paper, tape it to my shirt, and Hester Prynne a picture of myself wearing it right here for all to see.

Stakes = high.

If you want to level up your blogging and need a similar kick in the kiester, I encourage you to shout it from the blogtops and, in favorite words of the world’s newest saint, be not afraid.

And in the queue for Wednesday: toddler fashion.

7 Posts 7 Days: Why This is a Bad Idea

Here we are at the beginning of the week that Jen has dubbed Brace Yourselves: We're Writing 7 Posts in 7 days but perhaps we should just call it: "The week we all try to do what Grace does every week."

I always want to blog more. And there are all kinds of reasons why I don't. Sometimes I can't get to it. Sometimes it seems like there's nothing to document. Sometimes the words just don't come. I'm sure there will never be a good week for me to blog more, but this week is far far far from a good week.

Right now in general:

Still a newish mother of two.
Jacob is working virtually all the time.
We are in the early stage of potty training our oldest little person.
We're batting at about a .200 when it comes to toddler naps.

This week in particular:

Lucy June is (finally) getting baptized on Sunday.
Jacob's brother and a friend from LA are visiting on Friday.
Jacob's mom and sister are coming into town for the weekend.
My parents, grandmother, and sister are all coming into town for the weekend.
We're having a party on Sunday afternoon.

So why? Why am I doing this to myself?? There are a few reasons:

1) When life is already crazy what's a little more craziness. Blogging won't really add much to the hectic meter this week because we're pretty much at max, so what's a little more, am I right? I'm a firm believer that you get more done when you have less time.

2) Sometimes I lock the door when I go to the bathroom. Even though blogging isn't perhaps as essential as bathroom time, I still really value it and I feel just fine about occasionally making myself less present to my family so I can accomplish it.

3) It's a gift to myself. Friday is my birthday (add that to my list up there, yo) and I want to give myself this gift. Whenever I make sure my kitchen is really clean or sweep my floors before bed, I do it because I know how much I'll appreciate myself for it come morning. I look at my dirty kitchen and I say: give yourself this gift. And I repeat that through the drudgery that is late night dishwashing. And it never fails. When I wake up to that clean kitchen or that swept floor, when first thing in the morning I can actually see the chair that used to be a mountain of laundry, I'm so grateful to my productive late night self that I could cry. And sometimes I do. This Friday I want to toast my Monday Tuesday Wednesday Thursday self, and say, "You're Awesome Sauce." Or I won't say that because I'm pretty sure that's just plain stupid, but I will drink a margarita just for her.

But how will I do it? Well my original plan was to wake up early (ACK!!? Wake up before the babies when they don't let you sleep at night??? I know. I know. Too hopeful?) Lucy June, fitful sleeper that she is, will often doze in till a hefty 9am and Jake isn't allowed to come out of his room till his Christmas Lights come on at a mildly generous 7am (God bless outlet timers.) I figured 6-7am was my money shot. So this morning I carefully rolled away from my infant at 6:05, brushed my teeth, and sat down to write. Four lines later, the whole family was awake. Lucy June was squealing her "Not 100% happy" noises from her solo post in the bed while Jacob was tending to the potty trainer who was reveling in his bathroom-only words and shouting "Pooty Booty" on repeat from his own little plastic throne.

Why why why did this happen you ask? I don't know...Motherhood is magical.

I will try again tomorrow. I wasn't planning on trying again. At 6:15 when I was trying to nurse Lucy June back down and ready to forego predawn wake ups forever, Jacob came back in the bedroom and I told him I was sorry that I'd ruined our last hour of sleep and that I wasn't going to bother with early morning writing again. And then in the pale light of morning, my sleep deprived husband, who speaks love in ruthless ironies, proceeded to give me a hard time for giving up after one day... because he's a prince, and he loves it when I get chances to do stuff that I love. And if that isn't just the most inspiring thing. So he will be the reason that I get up early again tomorrow.

And for today we're going with Plan B.

Because the kids



both of them



can't help themselves. And I can't either.

(And, yes. I did have to look up how to calculate a batting average. I love you, big bro.)

Blog Tag

Well, Grace has tagged me in this blog chain, and I don't think I'm very good at these types of things, but I decided I should do it because of all the postcards I never sent back when I used to get that chain mail thing. Does anyone remember that? Was that even real? Maybe I dreamt it.

Anyhow, las reglas:

1. The first rule is to post these rules.

2. Post a photo of yourself and 11 things about yourself/your life .

3. Answer the questions set for you in the original post.

4. Create 11 new questions and tag people to answer them.

5. Go to their blog/twitter and tell them that you've tagged them.

Things about ME

1. I should be grading papers. If school is in session, this is true about me. I always should be grading, but instead I'm usually online, procrastinating and feeling sorry for myself.

2. My husband and my son are both Jacobs. We call the big one "Jacob" and the little one "Jake." This seemed like it would work back when we were picking baby names and couldn't agree on ANYTHING. But if the Papa Jacob/Baby Jake distinction confuses you, you're not alone, I clarify this (or guiltily don't clarify it) about 28 times a week.

3. I am way messier than my husband. WAY. I cannot get dressed or undressed without leaving a trail of half clean clothing lying on the floor. I start craft projects and leave them half done all over the middle of the living room. If I knock something over or spill something or open something in the morning, I frequently don't right the situation till the evening of the next day....and Jacob...well Jacob folds his socks.

4. I like writing this blog. I don't write more often because blogging is a guilty pleasure, and I'm Catholic which means I'm big into mortification. Actually, I'm a Catholic convert which means I'm extra big into it. 

5. I like coffee, but I rarely drink it. Why? See #4 plus headaches.

6. I'm very good at math and standardized tests, but instead of embracing this, I've ignored it and spent most of my life trying to culture my *artistic* and *imaginative* sides. 

7. I got a banjo for my birthday two weeks ago (see #6) and I've only played it three times (see #s 1 and 4.)

8. Baby Jake and I are about to go to visit my old babysitter who is in LA today. She watched me all my growing years and for most of that time spoke very little English since she's from Guatemala. Until I was in high school I would dream in Spanish...only I never knew what anyone was saying. 

9.  I have four siblings who I'm utterly obsessed with. I think they are SO cool. If you want (or not) I will tell you stories about them and how cool they are. And then I will tell you those stories again if I don't think you've quite gotten the point (or even if you have.)

10. I like to run. I think of myself as a runner. I ran cross country in college. I started running one spring when I realized how bad I was at tennis (very bad). But the thing is, I'm not very good at running. I'm slow (very slow) and injury laden. 

11. Last week, Jacob and I almost decided to move to an off-the-grid farm in Washington state. But that's another story, a story I can tell you AFTER this week per Jacob's instructions. He's very particular (see #3.)

12. Nope only eleven, you sillies.

Answers to Grace's Questions

1. age? 
 Not old enough to be married and have a kid in West LA or 27.

2. dream job?

um... an annuity?
3. favorite blog?

Tricky. I'd be lying if I didn't say Grace who sucked me in during the early days of her blogging because she was Pregnant with Thyroid Cancer!!!! and now I'm mercilessly hooked and visit the Camp everyday. Recently, I'm also loving me some Kitchen Stewardship. 
4. favorite recipe? 
The pizza our old neighbor used to make us.  Homemade pizza crust. Instead of a marinara, mix together some ketchup and balsamic vinegar for the sauce. Layer the top with caramelized onions, globs of fresh mozzarella and goat cheese, fresh basil and rosemary. And bake it hot.

5. favorite book?
I'm tempted to say something of the magical realist bent (Rushdie, Marquez, or Allende) but will go with the less pretentious gem by Betty Smith about little Francie Nolan. 

6. one piece or two piece swimsuit?
The first time I ever wore a two piece swimsuit was my senior year of college (a bit of a late bloomer). I wore it on a party boat, and the plastic clip that fastened the top piece literally broke while I was sitting and talking to some girls in one piece suits about modesty. You see. There is a God, and he plays practical jokes. 

7. most embarrassing moment?
ummm. see above.

8. pet(s)? if yes, name(s)?
Yes. We have in the neighborhood of several hundred honey bees. They don't have names, but Jacob calls them his "sweet b****es."

9. specific makeup item you couldn't live without?

This is the point in the conversation where I start squirming because I have terrible habits in this department, and I get bunches of tsk tsk tsks from sales reps whenever I try to resupply my concealer or something.
10. favorite song of the moment?
Of the moment and forever: Roseville Fair as sung by my buddy JT on the day I got hitched.

11. weekend plans?
Offering up some beers on St. Patty's and making chicken stock. 

New Questions:

1. Best day you can remember?
2. Favorite item of clothing and why?
3. If you could meet any fictional character, who would you choose?
4. What chore do you absolutely hate doing?
5. Favorite Quote?
6. If you could throw any kind of party, what would it be like and what would it be for?
7. Favorite Season and why?
8. If you won the lottery, what is the first thing you would do?
9. What is something you learned in the last week?
10. Best meal you've ever eaten?
11. If you had to change your first name, what would you change it to?

(yes I stole some of these from a blog after I googled "getting to know you questions") 

Alphabetized Tags (only ten cuz i'm pooped):

Anne (I claim you because Grace tagged too many.)
Katie (make 'em sunny)
Kim  (are you blogging this Lent?)
Lara  (A lot of words for you I know...but I'd like to read them.)
Mari  (only the best)
Mary Catherine (Because it's Lent I can't be jealous of your farm)
Rachel (are you still eating Indian food?)
Renee (Montessori flavored?)
Ruth (prattle on)
Wendy (nothing but the curiousest)