Here, in my head

This Polyvore.com site is so very dangerous. You have a blast making collages of your favorite things and after you're done it gives you a menu of quick links to buy all those favorite things. Uh oh.
Don't tell Rhys.

Here, in my head by cbuchele

Breakfast at Anthropologie

My last post was something I wrote during the hotel stay Rhys gave me for my birthday, but I wanted a separate post to commemorate the perfection of those two glorious weekend days.

I packed my bag, left a bunch of little instruction notes for Rhys about Jude all over the house (not that he needed instructions, this is just a problem I have), kissed my boys goodbye and dashed out the door on Saturday afternoon.

I checked into the Chase Suites Hotel around 3 pm. The first thing I did was light candles and ran a bath. I brought my best LUSH bubble bar and soaked for an hour, without a book, without an agenda (most of the time when I take a bath I'm trying to solve a problem while relaxing. I call it my "office." It's a bit counter-productive.). When I got out I wrapped myself in my brand new chenille robe, put on my Lisa Gerrard CD and started to write and take pictures. I went to Borders for an egg nog latte & one of their incredibly naughty marshmallow brownies. You heard me, we're talking 10,000 calories and zero guilt.

I then headed to Nordstrom Rack for some shopping and found the most amazing pajama pants by Anthropologie's brand Free People that fit perfectly and happened to be 50% off. Luck? No. This was fate.

I had dinner plans at 7:30 pm with my friend Patricia at a French restaurant called La Vie en Rose. It was an elegant setting and it was perfect. The highlight for me was the 5 desserts we had. Well, we shared a souffle and crepe, then a complimentary cream puff swan with a single candle was sent to the table since we were there celebrating both of our birthdays. Then on the way out, we were each given a little box with carrot cake & chocolate cake from a family friend who works there. One can never have too many desserts.
I headed back and watched a little Saturday Night Live before going to bed. I haven't been able to stay up past 11 pm because I have to get up at the crack of Jude every morning. But not this particular Sunday...

I woke up at 9:30 am to the sound of: absolute silence. It was gorgeous. The first thing I did was take another LUSH bath. Then I lounged around doing lots of nothing important, such as reading magazines and catching bits of old movies. Around noon I picked some roses from outside my door, put them on the dashboard of my car and went to get my favorite breakfast: an iced chai latte & egg sandwich from Starbucks. I ate it on the way to Fashion Island, my big-girl playground. Where else can you find an Urban Outfitters, Anthropologie, Z Gallerie, This Little Piggy Wears Cotton, Babystyle, Hanna Andersson, and Gelato Paradiso all in the same place? It's heaven. I strolled around, bought a few things... and found this little treasure.

A Radiohead t-shirt, size 6-12 months. The only one, stashed in a clearance basket. On sale.

I wandered lazily around Anthropologie with my iced chai, reminiscent of Holly at Tiffany's. Anthropologie is my Tiffany's, nothing bad can happen to me there. It is like entering a new atmosphere. The way the world was supposed to be created. Maybe if it had taken more than 7 days...who knows...

I ended my evening at the movie theatre, my other safe haven. Seeing movies by myself has always been a favorite past time of mine. I went to a 4 pm showing of Slumdog Millionaire and it was incredible. A perfect ending to a perfect weekend. Well, actually, I came home in time to put my little son to bed on Sunday evening. That was the perfect end to my perfect two days.

I should also mention that I came home to a clean house and a bouquet of flowers waiting for me. We watched Dexter and had sushi for dinner. Absolute bliss.

Silence

For the first time in 14 months, I am left completely alone with my thoughts. There were times when I thought I'd had a break but now that I'm experiencing this weekend in solitude I realize I wasn't ever really alone. A car ride doesn't count if there's a passenger in the carseat that can start a small war at anytime. Naptime doesn't count because of the pressure to get something substantial done during those precious two hours while he sleeps, if he decides to sleep at all. This is the first time I've been away from Jude, alone, for more than 4 hours since he was born. I had forgotten how sweet it is to breathe in complete solitude, to reflect on the glorious big picture, and to sleep in a big bed with no interruptions.

For my 32nd birthday Rhys gave me this gift of myself, in the form of a weekend alone at a fancy hotel one city away. I have Lisa Gerrard's The Silver Tree serenading a king bed lit by candlelight, just for me. The air feels different. I am inspired. I am taking pictures. I am reminded of my former self, the one who always dreamed of the very life I have now: a gentle soul to share my life with, a sweet little child to introduce the world to, and a true happiness with the woman I have become. I remember how I thought I would be unaffected by motherhood, that my main goal was to stay creative, fashionable and organized. I had hopes to even improve my daily life after having a baby with the addition of yoga classes and tea with my mom and fresh weekly floral bouquets from the local farmers market. I had no idea what motherhood requires of a girl: her body, her time, her complete self. All the designer burp cloths in the world couldn't save me from the feeling of drowning in my own new life as a mother, as I watched my aspirations as New Mom wash away. I couldn't find a shred of that girl to cling to.
And now, here I am.

A year ago I would never have believed that I'd be able to find even a glimmer of my former self within the ragged, puked-on, exhausted girl I had become. I have survived the discomfort and dissapointment of pregnancy, the torture of spotting through all trimesters, the horrific c-section delivery/recovery, and the deep darkness I fell into when we brought Jude home. Now, all that remains of those horrible first few months is a 4-inch pink scar across my belly.

Here, in my hotel room, I am not thinking about what time the next nap should be, what the next meal will be, when the last diaper was changed, where the afternoon adventure will take place, or why I ever decided that having kids was a good idea at all. I am thinking about my journey to this very day. All of my past loves that lead me to my soul mate. My insanely religious father who has never met my son. Moving out at 17, right out of high school. Living alone for 6 years before getting married. Having a baby. I am made up of tiny pieces of all of these experiences, good and bad, and that is incredible. At this moment I am not a mother, wife, accountant, housekeeper, chef, counselor, nurse, or personal servant. I am just Scarlett, the dreamer. But I wouldn't trade my busy, beautiful, crazy life for this lush solitude. At this moment, there is nothing to want. I have it all.

October

October brought all kinds of firsts to the smallest of Bucheles. There was a first frolick in crunchy fall leaves...

And a first walk on the beach...

A first looney-farm family Halloween in which the dad was a redneck, the mom was a movie star and somehow they spawned a tiny nerd...
...who played the part well.
First pumpkin patch...


And first time I made a cake with buttercream frosting from scratch...
Only to have it purposely decimated by a tiny little man on his first birthday.