Just Like You, Mama

My dear friend in high school had a nick name for my mother, “Florabunda.”  She named her that because my mom has always had an affinity for flowers.  Many times along our cross-country trips we would hear, “Oh Gene! Look at the flowers.”  It became a family joke, but it is one thing I love about her.  She taught us the names of the wildflowers, the smell of the lilacs.  She taught us to pause and appreciate nature, the unique beauty of the regions, of ourselves.   This has been a crazy week, so I had no time to make it to the card store.  But another thing she taught us is that it is the gifts from the heart that mean the most.  Happy Mother’s Day, Mom.

Heavy green leaves,

Encircle the delicate flowers

Subtle bells, white and pure

Beckon with soft allure

The Lily of the Valley grew

In patch beside our home

“Don’t they smell sweet?”

“Yes, Mama,” I think, “Just like you.”

Crimson and Yellow

The Maples alter their hue

Sharing their beauty

Changing the view

All around us

The leaves are changing

“Aren’t they beautiful?”

“Yes, Mama,” I think, “Just like you.”

We stand at the base

Looking up

The Sequoia tower

Majestically above

A growing family

Sprouting each day.

“Aren’t they strong?”

“Yes, Mama,” I think, “Just like you.”

A patchwork of color

The wildflowers spread

Beauty and light

All along their path

We drive along the

Empty road, taking it in

“Aren’t they amazing?”

“Yes, Mama,” I think, “Just like you.”

Being Enough this Mother’s Day

Last week I had the pleasure of chatting with other wine lovers and professionals about the great wines coming out of the Finger Lakes. We tasted Lemberger, Pinot Noir, and two Russian grapes that were new for me, Sapervi and Sereksiya. I always learn something from the producers and writers, but this year, one 140 character tidbit in particular keeps ringing around in my head. Julia Burke, NyWineWench, wrote “Nice of YOU to appreciate it (instead of comparing NY reds to Napa cab)! ” to which Mary Cressler of Vindulge responded, “No way!! NY is NY. CA is CA. OR is OR. Absolutely no need to ever compare to each other. They are who they are!” This idea is one that extends to other areas of our lives, doesn’t it?

If you have been drinking wine for any period of time, you’ve likely come across the idea of terroir, the expression of the land found in wine. Now, there are debates over this, but I’ll leave you to research that for yourself. I am more interested in the general idea of comparing. If you open a Pinot from New York and expect it to taste like one from California, you might be taken aback. If you open one from Burgundy and expect it to taste like one Oregon, you may (or may not) be surprised. Regardless of your expectation, if you don’t take the time to stop comparing, and enjoy it for what it is, you are likely going to miss out on something special.

The other night my brother-in-law made a fish dish, Halibut with Balsamic strawberries. I opened a Pinot from New York, hoping it would work, but it didn’t have the level of acid I was looking for. My husband suggested one of our “flagship” Pinots but I knew that it would be too big, too much black fruit for the dish. We opened the 2010 Stoller Pinot Noir from Dundee Hills and it was just right. Gorgeous cranberry red, red fruit, spice, a bit of fennel. Lovely.

Each Pinot had its own personality and it would be hard to compare them. One was great with fish while the other paired nicely with mushroom risotto. The other wine is big and beautiful, but it would have overpowered the dish. You just need the right wine for the right dish.

After a long day of mothering, a dear friend and I went for a walk last night, after dinner was served, dishes were done, while our husbands gave the children a bath. She was feeling pretty beat up. The worst offender? Herself. You see, she is a fantastic mom, but she doesn’t see it. She only sees that another friend never seems to lose it and she has THREE kids. She wonders how I find time to write and I have TWO kids. She thinks that she is not allowed to have a bad day and that she has no excuse for not get everything done because she only has ONE child. Which is funny, because I look at her super clean house and see how she’s so good and playing with her son and instructing him. I see that she’s in fantastic shape and takes him to the park and museum while I send my kids out in the yard so I can have 30 minutes to write.

Being a mother can, at times, feel like equal parts of joy and suffering. Comparison likes to rear its ugly head in both arenas. Comparing the successes and milestones, comparing the challenges and woes. This Mother’s Day, I challenge you, I challenge myself, to see the coming year through different eyes. How different would our day look if we choose grace, love, and mercy, not only for children but for ourselves? If instead of “doing more” we find peace and satisfaction in the “being?”

Brené Brown talks a lot about comparing in her book, The Gifts of Imperfection. In the book, her friend reminds her that “Comparison is the thief of happiness.” Isn’t it though? She reminds us that comparison is “paralyzing” and prevents us from being creative. If creativity is an expression of self, and we are worried about how we measure up to another’s standard, how can we be fully ourselves? If we try to mother our children in the way our neighbor does, is that really best for our child? There is always more to learn, ideas and inspiration to gain from others. But if we aren’t living authentically and being true to ourselves, living “wholeheartedly” as Brown say, then we are not fully living. You are the best mom for your child. You in your whole, complete self. Your whole and complete self can only be found by giving ourselves the space to be different, the grace to grow and fail.

Motherhood is full of “doing.” There is always more to “do.” But do you also value the being? There is a danger when our focus is on the “doing” rather than “being.” Life becomes exhausting and “it” will never get “done.” Is your value tied to what you accomplish or do you believe that who you are is enough? Being available to question while they explore? Being an example in your career or at the grocery store? Being a constant in their lives? A source of comfort? Isn’t that just as important?

Our children are a reflection of us in so many ways-in appearance, in behavior, talents, and challenges. Sometimes the reflection can be a little hard to take. Sometimes, it reflects something beautiful. It always reflects a unique image, an image that IS enough, just right for your child, just right for you. Do you appreciate its unique beauty or are you too busy comparing?

Addie Broyles of the Austin American Statesman interviewed me this week for pairings with a Mother’s Day brunch. One question she asked was what I wanted for Mother’s Day. In the pre-coffee fog, my immediate response was to not do dishes and to have a few moments of peace. Now, I still stand by that, but with some time to think, I have an additional response.

This Mother’s Day, I wish all of my friends, those that are mothers and those that are not, peace. Peace with oneself, peace in your home. May you come closer to understanding your fullness and not feel the need to compare. Enjoy what you can, let go of what you don’t. Do the dishes, don’t do the dishes, but keep it in perspective. Rejoice in the successes of others and strive to find your own success, with your OWN definition. Love big and with grace. And enjoy what is in YOUR glass, right here, right now.

I need to add a big Happy Mother’s Day to my own mom, a woman who always loved big, who was always there, and has never fully seen all the beauty in her own reflection. Cheers!

Happy Deed Day, Gundlach Bundschu!

Today is Deed Day for the Gundlach Bundschu winery. Last year, in honor of the day, I republished the poem which took first place in their poetry contest in 2011. It was in honor of the family’s history, their growth, and an ode to all farmers, really. This year, I’ll go back to the poem that took third place in 2010. It is a more personal poem written about my experience adjusting to life as a stay-at-home mom and about tapping into the memories associated with their wine. Happy Deed Day, Gundlach Bundschu! The excerpt below was previously published in 2011 as “Poetry in Motion.”

It was about a year and a half ago when I first decided to “put myself out there.” Writing again…publically…as in let-someone-I don’t-know-read-my-thoughts. I hadn’t written anything creatively in years. Not since the tumultuous relationship of my 20s with the distant artist type. But I found the right catalyst.

My 2 yr old daughter was watching Elmo, my 3 month old son was sleeping. Browsing Facebook (a SAHMs only social outlet some days) I came upon a poetry contest that was being held by Gundlach Bundschu, one of our favorite wineries in Sonoma. The history of this estate vineyard is amazing. Some of my best memories in Sonoma are at Rhinefarm so it was easy to find inspiration.

I reflected on our visits there. Newlyweds, no responsibilities, fine wine, blue teeth. Now, we were lucky to get to open a bottle of their wine and remember… I figured I had about 15 minutes so I knocked out a few stanzas (the 152 word limit) and would revisit it when the fog cleared from another sleepless night. A few tweaks later, I sent it off. What could it hurt?

It didn’t hurt anything. Instead, it healed. It reminded me that there was a me before diapers, nightfeeds, dishes, and dustpans. A me that was an okay writer once upon a time. A me that could capture a sentiment in words, even if only for myself. I received third place in the contest, but really I received much more than that. So here it is, an ode to Gundlach Bundschu, to wine, to my kids, my husband…and to me.

Remove a swirl

Of crimson foil,

Exhaling from another day’s toil

A sigh of relief

The cork releases

Oh, what a sound; my joy increases

What is the mood?

Stem or stemless?

My turn to pose a question, endless

One last check on

Children sleeping

No one stirring, no one weeping

A splash of ruby

Zinfandel

Entices with its luscious smell

The lights are dimmed

The table set

Reminding us not to forget

The early days

We frolicked ‘tween

The weighted fruit and rusted leaves

Golden sun, swirling red

We let the warmth

Go to our heads

And now we have

Just our memories,

A taste of days we seldom see

Days of freedom

Days of yore

I smile at the wine he pours

Close my eyes,

Velvet fruit to savor

There is nothing like the Gundlach flavor

So, tonight we will

Cherish our Sonoma escape

Swept away until our children awake

Lamentations

I’ve barely slept this past week. At first, it was because I was sleeping with my son to help him through his pneumonia-induced coughing spells. For the last two nights, I have been so heavy with grief for the families in Newtown that I have not found rest. There is a verse in Romans that says, “…the Spirit helps us in our weakness. We do not know what we ought to pray for, but the Spirit himself intercedes for us with groans that words cannot express.” This is a grief that words cannot express, but ironically, I find comfort in writing. So, although this is a wine blog, it is also about my life as a mom. And today, that is about the only thing that seems to matter.

When I came home on Friday, the first things I saw were my daughter’s drawings on the refrigerator. So many families will come home to similar pictures, knowing they will be the last. Before Friday’s tragedy, I found myself frustrated at being awakened yet again. After, I cherished a few extra minutes to hold my sleeping children.

There is understandably more talk about gun-control*.   How I wish that the answer were that simple.  No amount of legislation, gun-control, or metal detectors will stop a broken soul from inflicting horror on others if they are set on doing so.  The only prevention can be to get to that soul before it is too late. This is a generation in which too many have been overexposed to violence on television and video games. They have been under-exposed to loving boundaries and consequences. They are angry and fearful. They are vulnerable and hardened. The mental health problems are multipying; parents are exhausted with nowhere to turn.  This cannot be sustained.

People are looking for reasons, for answers. There are no answers. We retreat from the media or we become obsessed with the coverage. There is no comfort there. We hold our children closer and reevaluate priorities. Oh, that this would continue. Please, talk to your children and their friends. Speak up when you see something. Fight the toxicity we put in our bodies and our brains. Love your children and those in your path. And Pray.

As a mother and a former Elementary teacher, I can imagine all too vividly the horror. Although I was not directly impacted, I have friends that were. Comfort and solace are nearly impossible to come by in a tragedy of this magnitude. There is another verse I have chosen to focus on. In Mark, we are told of people bringing their children to Jesus to be touched. He says, “Let the children come to me, and do not hinder them, for the Kingdom of God belongs to such as these.” The verse following tells us that “he took them in his arms, put his hands on them and blessed them.” I choose to, I need to, believe that he shielded their minds in this. That he was there to welcome them into his arms. `

May God be near. May he provide a peace that passes understanding. May he restore what is broken and bring beauty from the ashes.

*see comments

Time to Breathe

There are some evenings that just require a little more self-care than others.  After a tough conversation with your boss,  the day your dog ate your favorite boots, the Monday after Thanksgiving.  Or any day with a three-year old tornado.  This evening, I needed a little something extra. So while my husband has my daughter out for a date, I opened a sample I have been looking forward to, a 2010 Wild Horse Merlot.

After a couple disappointing reds this past weekend, I knew good old Merlot would not let me down.  The winemaker suggested a hearty Marinara or braised beef for pairing, so I knew I was taking a risk opening it with my dinner of cheese and crackers.  But I guess I was feeling a little “wild”.   

Baked berries, cedar, and a bit of spice on the nose.  My first sip told me that the wine lived up to its name.  With some time in the bottle, this wine would mellow and turn into something special.  (If you only knew all the horse puns I resisted here.)  For tonight, the best I could do was give it some time to breathe.  I know how that feels.

After about thirty minutes, I tried it again.  Red fruit with a backbone.  Bright cherry, round plum.  Classic Merlot and just was I was looking for tonight.  The spice and cedar added depth and balance.  Sometimes a wine just needs some time to relax into itself.  A little air, a little time, a little space.  Amen. 

It is no wonder why Paso Robles is getting so much attention.  I would love to see where this wine is going.  I know where I am going.  To my couch, with a remote, and a glass of  Wild Horse Merlot.  I promise I’ll be much more enjoyable in thirty minutes.

*{Disclosure: I was provided with this wine from PR Firm, Folsom & Associates. All statements and opinions expressed in this article are my own.}

“Hey Girl…I love SAHMs”

Two friends.  Two everyday locations.  Two sightings of Ryan Gosling in two days.  Posted too late for me to stalk.  I know, I know.  Generally, I am not starstruck.  I think about how I would like people to respond to me if I were just trying to grab some breakfast or do some shopping.  I play it cool even through the thrill of recognition.  If the opportunity arises, I interact as I would with any stranger.  But I have a feeling that a Gosling sighting might lead to a rapid descent into giggling school-girl.

It did lead to a hilarious game of “Hey, Girl” from the perspective of a mom of young children.  The conversation began with joking about how we could have our kids “run away” right into him.  He’d say, “Hey Girl, cute kids.”  Our eyes would meet and he’d throw Eva to the wind.  And since we were already in dream land, we continued with the fantasy.  I invite you to play along. Or if you have gotten this far and you are a married male, you’re welcome for the tips.

“Hey Girl, you look so sexy in the yoga pants with a smear of Mac and Cheese.”

“Hey Girl, is that Day 2 or Day 3 hair you got goin’ on?”

“Hey Girl, those stretch marks are just souvenirs, signs of the strength of your body.”

“Hey Girl, don’t get up, I’ve got the dishes.  Then I’ll give you a massage.”

“Hey Girl, you gonna eat those crackers on the floor of your mini van? I’m kinda hungry.”

“…and I’ll vacuum it for you when we get home.  In my boxer briefs.”

“Hey Girl, those aren’t grey hairs, they’re wisdom strands.”

“Hey Girl, do you want these washed in hot or cold?”

“Hey Girl, I love watching you through the windows I am washing.”

“Hey Girl, sorry if my hands are rough.  It is all the dishes I have been doing.”

“Hey Girl, how about some hot tea?  Then we can snuggle and watch Downton Abbey.”

“Hey Girl, cleaning tubs is my specialty.  Relax with this Brunello and trashy magazine.”

Had to get wine in there somewhere, right?  Play along.  What would Mr. G say to you?  And when you read this, Ryan, which I know you will since you read everything written about you, I am right here in Austin and I’d be happy to take you to the hotspots in town.   I know where they have the best playgrounds and children’s menus.  Bet Eva can’t say that.

On the Road Again…

…just about to get on the road again.  Sorry for the lack of writing as of late. I am currently in Colorado on our first family camping trip. Having a great time thus far, and wanted to throw out a few highlights at the mid-way point.
On the way north and were able to stop at both Llano Estacado and McPherson Cellars in Lubbock. Great wines. The Red Raider Syrah is a great balance of big fruit and rich earthy notes. We also grabbed two red blends, their flagship wine, Viviano, and El Granjero. It was great to finally meet these guys. Thank you for your patience with my wound up little ones, the barrel tastings, and your hospitality.  We stayed at The Overton and slept like babies.  Great room and super staff.  Highly recommended.  My only suggestion would be to get more Texas wines on your wine list (wink, wink).

We popped into McPherson on our way out of town and Kim and Emily were equally gracious hosts. I think I bought at least one of everything I tasted. Love his wine! I left with 13 bottles and was prepared to leave my sleeping bag behind if I needed to make room for them. Fortunately, we will be expecting regular shipments. You would be hard pressed (no pun intended) to find better Texas wine, especially at that price point. Love, love, love.

While camping in Palo Duro Canyon we had a masked bandit run off with our Pirate Booty and I was greeted with a “friendly” rattle as I stepped out of our make-shift shower.  The heat was rough, but the views and the moon made up for it.

In Santa Fe, we stayed at The Bishop’s Lodge. The grounds are beautiful, the room we wound up in was great, but they need some work in some areas. I am not, by any means, a tough client and I have  the utmost respect for those in the service industry. But after several scratch-your-head-disappointing moments, I would highly encourage them to take a look at training and work out some kinks. I would go back because of the other very positive experiences, but with revised expectations. I hope they work those things out because it has such potential.  A big thank you to Jeff the Wrangler. My kids loved their first horse-back ride!

In Durango, we rode the train to Silverton.  Stunning views, friendly informative staff, and the kids even fell asleep for the last hour.  We rode the bus back to cut the return time.  I would recommend that, especially if you are traveling with littles.  I was very grateful to not be driving and to be on the inside of the road.  If you have height issues, think twice or pack a Valium.  We walked to Carver’s after for some local brews.  The winner, in my book, was the Saison.  Peppery goodness in a glass.

Remember that road where I was grateful to be on the inside? Guess where we were on our drive to Ouray?  I am pretty sure that my leaning to the middle of the truck on curves had no effect, but you never know.  Those crazy roads never bothered me before.  Yet another thing that changes post-babies.  The hot springs were amazing.  Highly recommended.  We also found our favorite brew thus far at Ouray Brewing Company.  The Belgian Pale Ale was delicious.  We left with a growler and came back for another one on our way out of town.  My husband is trying to convince me to drive back for another.

We then camped in Ridgeway State Park for two nights.  This place is spectacular with so much to do, room to run,  a place to fish, and a reservoir in which to swim.  Heavenly.  The views were breathtaking.  Next time we will stay for much longer.

Which brings us to our current stop.   After three days of camping, we were all ready for a little luxuriating.   The Hotel Telluride could not be nicer.  The staff is incredibly friendly and accommodating; the decor is pure rustic elegance.  Every detail is taken care of. The robes, Aveda products, and pillow service (yes, you can pick a style of pillow) have provided the perfect recovery from roughing it.  Oh, and the chocolate chip cookies in the lobby paired wonderfully with the Llano Syrah.  

Off to enjoy our complimentary breakfast and a gondola ride before we get on the road again…Cheers!

Mosaics in the Making-non-potable thoughts

As a mother, I have often felt as if my sensory receptors are short circuiting.  It usually happens at about the time I am pretty sure I just stepped on a Lego that I already picked up twice on my way to referee a squall that has most certainly awakened the dead.  In a few brief moments I get a flash of life before children, followed by a version of what I thought motherhood would “look” like (usually a Maria von Trapp-esque sublime moment, happily instructing a crowd of patient cherubs).   And then I am quickly dragged into the ACTUAL present moment in which I’m probably still wearing the tank top I slept in, yoga pants with smears of someone else’s lunch, and I am mumbling something ferocious and unintelligible.  Not how I really want to be seen and certainly not what I have posted on Facebook.

Glennon Melton has a blog that is currently spreading like wildfire, and for good reason.  Momastery is brilliant and, to use her term, “brutiful.”  The first treasure I found was, “Telling Secrets,” about the healing that comes, for us and others, by simply being honest about who we are and where we have been.  In “Don’t Carpe Diem,” Glennon talks about the challenging moments of motherhood and the moments that make it worth the challenge. “Chronos is the hard, slow passing time we parents often live in…Then there’s Kairos time. Kairos is God’s time. It’s time outside of time. It’s metaphysical time. Kairos is those magical moments in which time stands still.”  The beauty of stopping in the midst of the chaos and realizing, “This is the first time I’ve really seen Tish all day, and my God – she is so beautiful. Kairos”

Which naturally led me to thinking about how God looks at his own children.  What if He always sees us in Kairos time?  As we are meant to be, as He created us to be?  A different reality altogether.  Not the idealized version of ourselves, but something even more beautiful.

Or maybe the spin cycle of motherhood is used to smooth out the jagged edges?  Or maybe they aren’t supposed to be smoothed out at all, but to fit perfectly with the other broken pieces.   A mosaic in the making.  We all have moments when we fail, when we feel “less than.”   We lose our tempers.  We choose to focus on what we don’t have, rather than what we do.  We have thoughts and pasts and regrets that we wish we could undo. And yet, grace.  Unmerited favor.  Unconditional love.

What if he sees us without the scars, the fear, and anger?  Without the hurt and disappointment?  What if He sees past the barriers and walls we have carefully built over time and thinks we are so beautiful.  Even in crusty pants and in our less than stellar parenting moments.  Maybe he put us here, in this time, this place, to love others with jagged pieces, a little more smoothly.  To give ourselves and others a little more grace.

The Inaugural SAHMmelier Play and Taste Party starts tomorrow!

A few days ago, a friend (we’ll call her “Mama K)” posted on my Facebook page about wanting to taste the Dreaming Tree wines.  If you missed the post, Dreaming Tree is the collaborative effort of Mr. Dave “Yummy” Matthews and Sonoma winemaker, Steve Reeder.  Mama K said that if his wine was anywhere near as good as his music, we were in for  a treat.  A few days later, I found a bottle and we set up a playdate.

Then we got to brainstorming.  What if we had a few moms join us, then we could all discuss the wine?  Even better, what if several SAHMs and friends, near and far,  joined us and wrote their own reviews? And thus was born, The SAHMmelier Play and Taste Party.

Dreaming Tree Crush is currently on sale at Target for only $9.99 which makes it a perfect candidate for a “Monday Wine.”  Plus, it will be easy to grab a bottle when you are out buying diapers or detergent.  The website has a full tasting notes page on the wine, but I am going to challenge you to NOT look at it until you have tasted and given your own descriptors.  Remember, they don’t have to be “correct.”  Just enjoy the discovery!  We will post our reviews and encourage you to comment with your thoughts on the wine.  Each month we will pick a new wine and announce it a few days before the Taste and Play.  If you have a suggestion for a Monday wine , let us know.

Now, don’t worry.  We are all responsible moms and will only be tasting.  There won’t be time for more than a sip or two amongst the bedlam of little ones anyway.  But, it will be a great social escape at the end of a long day.    So, how about it?  Want to play?

My Christmas List

Regardless of your spiritual beliefs, this is worth the read. Our family has never put a big emphasis on gifts, even less as we got older. We wanted to avoid the stress of the mall, the “I have to find SOMETHING” wastes of money, the financial burden. But maybe, we still were getting it wrong. The right sentiment, but the wrong conclusion.
Do you really NEED another pair of shoes, another sweater, the bling? Do you need it as much as the mother who is struggling to put ANYTHING in her child’s mouth? To have water that isn’t going to give her dysentery?
Maybe instead of giving nothing, we should have been giving to those who REALLY need something for Christmas…

When Christmas Gets Radical: Whose Birthday Is It Really?

After you have chewed on that…hear this.  There are a lot of organizations that will still allow you to buy gifts and still support the moms I mentioned above. 

http://www.theopenarmsshop.com/

http://www.tukula.org/ (LOVE these bags!)

http://heavenlytreasures.org/ 

These are just a few…do you know of any?  Please share in the comments below!