Negative

I'm Charlotte Flowers, and I approve of this blog post...

In the spirit of election season, Josh and I have taken to talking about each other and the kids in the tone of negative political ads.

"Big Spending Nate McCabe believes in entitlements for adult children that would bankrupt our family..."

"Ellis Huebner only resides in our district half the time, but he's always shown up for votes that would raise his own allowance..."

"Charlie McCabe promised to clean up his toys. Four years later, the volume of toys on our living room floor has only increased..."

"Isaac McCabe lacks the necessary experience to lead our family through these trying times."

"When the baby cries at 3:00 AM can we really trust that Josh McCabe will be ready to spring into action?"

"Call Charlotte Flowers and ask her 'Would it kill you to clean up the kitchen while you are cooking?"

Any friends out there with video skills that could help us make the full versions of these ads?

Half Way Through the Beginning

This boy is six months old today. He needs to slow down because mom thinks this is just going by too fast. Last week, he started eating solid food indicating his readiness by grabbing rice off my plate and stuffing it in his mouth. Charlie and I are having fun throwing all kinds of good fruits and veggies in the food processor to feed him. He's always had a voluptuous figure, so we all joke about how now he can finally start putting on weight.

 

If you put him down on the floor, he manages to scoot himself all over the place. We're not sure how he does it because he's not crawling. Perhaps he is part snake. He also likes to squawk in delight at things.

 

Going through the archives, I found pictures of me, Ellis, Charlie, and Isaac all around the six month mark. The boys and I love to look at the collage I created to note the similarities and the differences. Genetics are pretty cool.

 

Ladies and gentlemen is there any more perfect human specimen than a six-month old baby?

 

 

Remembering

It was the day after my twenty-ninth birthday and I was pregnant with my first son. I was working at a hospital foundation and Josh worked there too, although we were just friends and coworkers then. Mary, our other left-leaning colleague got a call from her husband and she came to find me and Josh to say that Paul Wellstone's plane had gone down near Eveleth, MN. We turned on public radio and stared at each other with a numb disbelief as we listened to the coverage that Senator Wellstone, his wife Sheila, his daughter Marcia, and campaign workers Mary McEvoy, Tom Lapic and Will McLauglin were dead.

Ten years later, when I think about Paul and what could have been, I still get tears in my eyes. Paul Wellstone was one of the reasons I moved to Minnesota when I was a young woman. I wanted people who were smart enough to elect such a fearless, unapologetic voice for justice to be my neighbors. Josh remembers him from his days working on campaigns as a person who took the time to know people's names no matter what level they were at. Senator Wellstone cared about people and he never wavered from his belief that "we all do better when we all do better."

I think I'm just going to keep crying about this loss until there are more people in politics trying to fill his shoes.

F--k! I'm Thirty-Nine.

 

Sometimes you wake up and you realize you are now thirty-nine. Or more accurately, sometimes you are going to bed well after midnight because you are doing some work for a consulting contract after your kids have gone to bed and you realize that it has become your thirty-ninth birthday, and you say, "F--k! I'm thirty-nine."

 

In response to your cry, your husband, who is well past thirty-nine himself (which is one of the nicest things he's ever done for you), assures you that it's good to be thirty-nine. He says, thirty-nine is a good age because you spend it coming to terms with the fact that you are almost forty and what that means to you, so that by the time you turn forty, you're happy to be forty. He says that you're still young, unlike him who will turn a really advanced age on his birthday next week. You take this all in and reiterate your plan that all future birthdays of yours will be celebrated as anniversaries of your thirty-ninth birthday. He says that he will know how old you are even if you do that. You give him a dirty look and take comfort in the fact that when he's senile (which will likely be sooner than you are) you will be able to shape his reality to your advantage.

 

Sometimes, on the day before your thirty-ninth birthday, you are picking up your kid from preschool and are driving by the college campus that is in the same neighborhood and you realize that all those college kids, even the seniors, were born in the nineties, which is the decade in which you went to college. Those were good times and it blows your mind how quickly time has passed since then.

 

Reflecting on all these things later, you recognize that this, too, is one of the best times of your life and that there are some positives about turning thirty-nine, and because you like to make lists, you do so:

 

1. Being a life-long curmudgeon, you feel (to paraphrase the character Nick on New Girl) that you are finally starting to age into your personality.
2. Sure, your thirties went fast, but that's because you spent all of them being madly in love with five amazing guys, and you note that you're getting really good at figuring out how to use the time you've been allotted on earth.
3. There's a brief window in our culture in which women are neither too young to be respected or too old to be relevant. You have the sneaking suspicion that you may now be in that window and you should use this power to your advantage to create some social change.
4. Your age, coupled with the fact that you are happily married to a man who is so attracted to you that sometimes, when you are not in the mood for romance, you have to be careful not to touch his arm in a friendly way, means that you can put to rest the tiresome sex-object bullshit that plagues younger women. You can go to the Y and focus on keeping your body strong and have compassion for the young women who feel they need to wear perfume when they work out. You vow that you will never again wear a thong or uncomfortable shoes or get a bikini wax for the rest of your life.
5. Watching your husband in his forties, you know that it really is possible for a person to get better with age.

 

There now, that's better. Happy freaking birthday to me!

 

Some Songs to Celebrate Eight Great Years, Part 5

In October 2004 (basically over the course of the whole month), I fell in love with a very good friend of mine. It turned my whole world upside down and changed everything for the better. To celebrate that happening eight years ago, I thought I'd share a few songs that make me think of us and the life we've built together.

 

 

Song #5: "Ball and Chain" by: Josh McCabe

"We were meant to walk together, but it sure is a tricky climb."

It wasn't a given that we would end up together. We knew each other for over two years without recognizing that we had feelings for each other beyond friendship. It was very complicated. We each had a kid with someone else and there was the tricky matter that I was still married to my someone else. We were working together (for the second time) in a pretty toxic environment. That October was a roller coaster with each of us experiencing the greatest love of our lives and, at the same time, despairing that we could never do anything about it.

Josh had taken the summer off of work that year and had a lot of time to play and write music. By the time fall rolled around he was in peak condition. Therefore, when things seemed most bleak for us, he was able to use his talent, as artists have throughout history, for the purpose of wooing the woman he loved. Listen to the song here.

Obviously, it worked. Once we made up our minds to be together, it seems like that whatever other tricky things may swirl around us, the one thing that has never been complicated is our love.
 

 

Some Songs to Celebrate Eight Great Years, Part 4

In October 2004 (basically over the course of the whole month), I fell in love with a very good friend of mine. It turned my whole world upside down and changed everything for the better. To celebrate that happening eight years ago, I thought I'd share a few songs that make me think of us and the life we've built together.

 

Song #4: "Theme from tpt's Almanac" performed by Cantus

 

A post wherein I admit to extreme nerdiness.

 

It's Friday. I've never been much for going out on Friday night. Even as a young woman, I've always wanted to be home in cozy clothes, watching television, and feeling the hopefulness of the full potential of the vast expanse of free time before me. In regards to television, I've enjoyed many a nerdy show over the years, but none comes close to the nerdiness of the current iteration of shows I watch with my beloved husband. Every Friday night, we watch the local public affairs program "Almanac" followed by "Washington Week" on our local PBS affiliate. Yes, we are political junkies (especially local politics). This time is sacred, and it's what passes for date night these days.

 

In regards to "date night," a popular practice these days, we don't get out much. Instead, most nights of the week, after the children are asleep or quietly ensconced in their rooms, we hang out together. Sometimes we talk about heavy stuff, sometimes we watch a show and riff back and forth about the content, sharing many laughs, and sometimes we trade back rubs. We may be more starved for sleep and have less personal alone time than we would care for, but we are not starved for adult time together, and our relationship is rock sold because of it. It also helps that we like each other better than anyone else on the planet.

 

Wishing you all a cozy, nerdy Friday night.

Fall Break

 

It's a long weekend for me and the kids, so we decided to celebrate "decorative gourd season" by walking down the block to the neighborhood pumpkin patch.

 

 

We picked out a couple for carving and some little ones for playing with inside the house. Charlie will likely give the small ones names and create scenarios where they need to be rescued from imminent peril. There will be much shouting in feigned distress.

 

 

We will hold off carving until closer to Halloween. I learned the hard way once that if you carve too soon, your jack-o-lantern becomes less Halloween-spooky and more moldy-and-eaten-by-critters scary.

 

 

Sometimes random time off from the regular schedule can help you remember that it is a fine use of a day if all you accomplish is a simple adventure to collect something which has no purpose but to delight your children.



This Boy is Trouble

 

There's no way to know for sure how the plastic cutting board made its way into our oven where it melted into a toxic-fumed pile of goo. I have my suspicions, though. If they are correct, that will mean two "Ramona Quimby" moments in one week. The other being when I went to check on why he was taking so long in the bathroom and discovered he had squeezed a whole tube of toothpaste into the sink.

 

Pray for me, people.

Some Songs to Celebrate Eight Great Years, Part 3

In October 2004 (basically over the course of the whole month), I fell in love with a very good friend of mine. It turned my whole world upside down and changed everything for the better. To celebrate that happening eight years ago, I thought I'd share a few songs that make me think of us and the life we've built together.

 

Song #3: "January Wedding" by The Avett Brothers

 

"True love is not the kind of thing you should turn down."

 

I loved this song the first time I heard it because it was released a few months after we had our own January wedding. For the longest time, we weren't sure whether we would get married. Truth be told, having Charlie together is what made us seem most married. Nevertheless, shortly after Charlie was born, I had the opportunity to reduce my work hours to part-time and spend more time at home with our then-littlest one, and I needed access to Josh's health insurance to make it work. Pretty romantic, huh?

 

Actually, treating our wedding like a minor administrative function turned out to be quite romantic. It was a freezing cold Monday in January when we got married at the courthouse. It was Chinese New Year, the first day of the Year of the Ox, a very practical sign (being an ox, I should know). I forgot my camera, so there are no actual pictures of us getting married, which is probably good since Charlie was sick and had thrown up on me at least three times that day and I didn't feel much like being photographed. We didn't have any rings (I got mine later, Josh still doesn't have one).

 

Nevertheless when we stood there saying our vows, beautifully written by the judge who married us, it felt exactly like a celebration of our relationship should. We were just a couple of best friends, raising kids together that were grown up enough to know that responsibility only enhances true love.

 

Some Songs to Celebrate Eight Great Years, Part 2

In October 2004 (basically over the course of the whole month), I fell in love with a very good friend of mine. It turned my whole world upside down and changed everything for the better. To celebrate that happening eight years ago, I thought I'd share a few songs that make me think of us and the life we've built together.

 

 

Song #2: "Kathleen" by Josh Ritter

 

"Every heart is a package tangled up in knots someone else tied."

 

Over ten years ago, I was working at a non-profit and Josh started working there a few weeks later. I still remember the first time I saw him standing outside my cubicle looking distinctly Alaskan in his brimmed, wool-felt hat and parka. I remember thinking, I have no context for this person as I've never seen anyone quite like him. I guess I'd never seen the Northern Lights before. He remembers my flashing eyes peering at him with energy, curiousity, and their ever-present suspicion. We didn't fall in love until a couple of years later, but somehow, on that day, we got connected to each other for good.

 

The thing is, eight years later, the best part of my day is still the time he walks in the door. My heart beats faster and I can't help grinning from ear to ear. Eight years later, the things that I do and think don't seem real until I share them with him. Eight years later, I know that he will do anything I ask him to do with love and a good will, and I will do the same for him without batting an eye.

 

How is it that two independent-minded curmudgeons could be totally ruled by each other? I guess it's what we were always looking for.

 



Some Songs to Celebrate Eight Great Years, Part 1

In October 2004 (basically over the course of the whole month), I fell in love with a very good friend of mine. It turned my whole world upside down and changed everything for the better. To celebrate that happening eight years ago, I thought I'd share a few songs that make me think of us and the life we've built together.

 

 

Song #1: "Take It From Me" by the Weepies

 

"Funny how it's hard to take a love with no sting."

 

When we first got together, Josh and I had a lot of damage from the relationships we had with the parents of our first children. Many times we'd be midway through an argument when we both realized we were really fighting with someone else. We built up a lot of trust for each other during those early tumultuous days and discovered that we'd found in each other the thing we'd always wanted: someone we could give absolutely everything to, who would take it and use it to make themselves into the best possible person they could be.

 

The best relationships are the ones where everyone gives to each other and winds up richer. So here's "a toast to the plan we've made to live like kings." With each other, we are wealthier than we could have ever imagined.

 



October in Detail

 

 

 

Welcome Change

 

 

 

 

The last two autumns were rough on me for various reasons and had me wondering if fall and I just don't get along. This year, however, I've been feeling much more positive about the season, enjoying every last moment of the magical light and colors before they fade away into winter.

 

Now, I can't vouch for how I'll feel when they do that silly daylight savings time thing and wreak havoc on light-sensitive types like me by exaggerating the already growing darkness, but if I'm going to feel good through October and November any year, this one will definitely be it. Here are some tricks that have kept me happy so far:

•  Getting outside everyday. Keeping in touch with nature keeps me feeling more positive about its changes.
• Dressing for the weather, not the calendar. Since temperatures have stayed so warm, I've only worn socks two times since Labor Day. Why do bare feet make me so happy? Perhaps because it makes the transition seem gentler.
• Feeding my senses. Autumn is encouraging my creativity, with all the visual beauty inspiring my photography and the bounty at the farmer's market fueling my desire to cook delicious food.
• Embracing slower rhythms. This working from home thing definitely suits me. Especially this time of year because I don't have to get moving in the morning until after the light comes in fully. I can also use the earlier dark as an excuse to knock off early and snuggle in with all my lovelies. Productivity is overrated.

 It makes me happy to welcome October and embrace and enjoy change rather than feeling like I'm struggling against it.

A Good Day for a Walk

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

September ended sun-drenched, still and warm.
Dry showers of leaves flew against the bright blue sky
Twirling downward to create a skittering, crunching carpet.
We walked together as three generations
With instinctual understanding
Of the beauty of the cycles of life.