The Scarlett Letters

The Photo Booth

2011-09-20T21:12:00.000-07:00

I decided to brave the Orange County fair with two very small kids this year for one reason only: the photo booths. I have always loved taking booth pictures. My addiction began during my freshman year of high school, with my best friend Maria Rohler. This was long before we could drive, and we had to walk a few miles to take pictures together in a photo booth at the local video arcade. This became one of the trademark experiences of our friendship... we made sure to hit every photo booth we knew of every time we had a chance. We loaded up with single dollar bills and we took as many pictures as we could afford. Then we walked home with our stack of photo strips, cut them up and then traded them for our favorites.

We started to sharpen our photo booth skills and brought props like hats, flowers and signs that said silly things we thought were HILARIOUS back then. We posed, did some theater, a little modeling, got creative with the curtains, even changed our hairstyle in time for the next *poof* of the flash. One time we sent Drew Barrymore a photo strip holding up my phone number with "please come!" under it, along with an invitation to the Tom Green tea party we hosted for a bunch of our friends. She was married to him at the time, and we thought she'd appreciate that gesture. We also hoped in our silly high school way that she'd show up. She must have had a prior engagement.

Over the years I collected quite a beloved pile of our little photos and one day I decided to arrange my favorites in a frame. The love I have for this collage that represents over 10 years of our zany friendship is immense. It would be among the first things I'd grab if my house was on fire.

So, I wanted to do something a little bit unique for our family's first photo booth experience. I came up with the idea to buy some fun fabric and pin the material over the original boring blue backdrop with safety pins. And after a frustrating afternoon of an hour-long parking wait and huge crowds and summer heat and two skipped naps and outrageously expensive fair food, I made my entire family pile into a tiny photo booth while I hovered over them, pinning cloth. There was an attendant for the first time ever who collected the whopping $5 per photo strip and made sure nobody got out of control in their booth. She was very intrigued when our pictures dropped into the slot with an entirely new background. "I've never seen THOSE curtains before!" she said, and I'd really stumped her. I told her it was because they were in my purse.

I love that this silly tradition lives on and is being passed to a new generation. I wonder how my kids will rebel in photo booths? Only time will tell. One thing is for sure: we won't be having any more babies. We've maxed out our photo booth space.

The Dark Passengers

2011-08-30T20:52:00.000-07:00

If you aren't a Dexter watcher, this blog post will be very boring to you. I apologize for that, and for the quality of the upcoming photos... consider this more of a "documentary-style" post. There also may be some past season spoilers so if you're just starting to watch, read with caution.
My friend Laura asked me if I thought it would be fun to go on a Dexter scavenger hunt. I didn't care what it was, the mere mention of my favorite TV show and I was in. She found a website that locates the addresses of all of the places they film the show and most of them are in Long Beach where she lives. Neither of us are particularly star struck but we both are equally entranced by Dexter, and when you live in LA, sometimes you have to take advantage of this kind of thing. Our plan was to take our picture in front of as many locations as we could find. We set out with navigation via her phone and headed out for our epic Dexter adventure.

Our first stop was the house where Dexter and Rita first lived together. This one was very easy to recognize because they spent a lot of time in this house. We really wanted to know if Rita died in their actual bathtub but neither of us were willing to ring the doorbell to find out.

If you've ever been anywhere with me, you probably recognize this scene:

I take my point-and-shoot camera everywhere and always forget the handy little tripod I bought to avoid the above situation. So I'm constantly having to create new ways to balance that camera on uneven (and sometimes quite expensive) objects. This was the silver BMW parked in front of Dexter's house.

The next place we found was Batista's house, and I didn't recognize it at all. It was only used in one episode, although later they went back to this house and shot a kill scene inside.

How do I know this? Because the guy that owns the house parked a van in the driveway THE VERY SECOND I had the camera steady and ready to take the picture. How dare he come home in the middle of the day like that. But we waited a bit and he left, so we got a picture without the van. And when we pulled our car up 5 feet to get a picture in front of the next Dexter house which happens to be right next to it, SOMEONE PULLED A CAR INTO THAT DRIVEWAY. But it turned out to be great, because that guy in the van came back moments later and I asked if he would take our picture in front of his neighbor's house. It was Dexter's childhood home, where they shot the flashback scenes when Dexter was a teenager. I thought he'd think we were crazy, but he just smiled and said "You mean, the Dexter house?" Apparently we weren't their first visitors. He told us that they filmed one episode using the outside of the house, and then came back the next season to use the inside. They built walls in their living room in order to film a murder scene, and there was "blood spatter" everywhere. He had been a fan of the show before he was approached by the staff about using his house, so all of this was very awesome to him. I think it would take just the right person to say yes to creating a messy kill scene in your living room.

Here are the two houses together. With both cars in the driveway.

We also didn't recognize the next location which was the house Dexter inherited from his estranged biological father when he died. They built a wall in the front that had been taken down so it wasn't as easy to match it up with our still shots from the show. The gardener had just arrived and parked RIGHT IN FRONT OF THE HOUSE, but when he saw I had a camera and was pointing it in his direction he offered to move it. He also took the picture for us. What a sweet gardener he was.

It was the same situation at Rita's house. This was the house Rita lived in with her kids when she first met Dexter, and they built that salmon wall just for the show. They must have a lot of these stone walls in Miami where it is supposed to be taking place. But that tree in front of the house was very much the same.

This is where Dexter went to get all of his household necessities at great prices. He was also seen shopping the Dollar Spot in season 3. Just kidding. This was a bathroom stop.

We then headed out to El Dorado Park, which is gigantic. We parked on a residential street and walked a very long way to get into the park. Along the way we passed this guy mining for gold or some such thing in the water below us. There is so much strange stuff going on in this picture.

We found our destination, the creepy old ranger station where Dexter found Lumen last season. They had built a chain link fence around it and added lots of greenery and an old No Trespassing sign. If you look very closely at this first picture you can see a tan door laying on the ground to the right of where Dexter is standing...

...and look, there's the door. This must really be an abandoned ranger station because nobody in the park bothered to pick up that old door.

Here's how the magic happens. I used a metal pole in the ground and laid a piece of burned wood across it. Voila. Tripod.

I was SO dirty. I didn't realize that wood had been burned until after I picked it up and messed with it.

Our final destination was the bridge that Lumen ran under while trying to escape Dexter. We knew it was about 300 feet from the ranger station so we just walked around until we found it. There's Laura "pretending to run" in the left corner of the mucky swamp. We were pretty surprised that those actors had to be knee deep in that disgusting water, but for millions of dollars I'd probably run in anything too.

From this angle it doesn't look so creepy. Kind of pretty and serene, except for those random wooden planks that are there to say "Whatever you do, don't run in this dangerous radioactive mess of swamp water."

And then we were exhausted and went to get blended coffee drinks like true LA girls. I love having a friend that is still willing to do silly high-school stunts like this with me. You're never too old to trespass, that's what I always say.

Jude

2011-08-20T12:38:00.000-07:00

I was going to just toss this up on Facebook like I regularly do with new photos, but this one felt like it deserved a blog post all of its own. They say a picture is worth a thousand words, and sometimes that is such a relief. Because there are no adequate words to describe the hold this kid has taken on my heart, what he has already taught me about life, and how serenely wise, gentle and beautiful he is. Sometimes I look at him and can't believe I get to keep him.

The Smash Session

2011-08-12T17:55:00.000-07:00

Raya turned a year old at the end of July. Time flies when you're having fun, which is why the first 6 months of her life felt more like 10 years. But then she turned a corner and things became delightful, and then the next 6 months flashed by so very fast. We had a cake smashing photo shoot for her since she wasn't feeling very well at her birthday party and hardly touched her cake. But we discovered that was because she is just like her brother and absolutely hates getting dirty.

The cake, the set. All was calm... all was bright. We were excited to see this tiny 3-tier cake get completely destroyed.

Here's a closer look at that cake. Not too close though, it had it's issues. If it hadn't been for the sprinkles that somewhat saved the day I probably wouldn't even be posting this.

Here she is, femininely pondering what to do with the sticky mess sitting next to her. Surely they don't want me to dig into that thing, she wondered daintily.

The boys tried to show her how it's done. She thought it was funny for about 3 seconds.

And then, the party cake meltdown. She was so upset that her hands were a mess that she couldn't focus on the sugary goodness in her mouth. She just couldn't take any more of it.

That poor little smash cake, never given a fair chance. All Raya did was push it to the side a little.

The End.

What's a little 6 months between friends?

2011-05-29T15:43:00.000-07:00

Hey, remember me? I'm that ridiculously pale redhead who blogged, oh, you know, 6 MONTHS AGO. Funny how my last post started with "So yeah, it's been awhile." I guess that's my style now, to just drop off the virtual radar for a gigantic chunk of time. I don't know how my masses of avid blog readers ever survived without me. (Kidding, of course. But can I just say how cool it is when someone I've never met contacts me about this blog? And a tiny bit scary. But mostly so cool.) Facebook has sort of taken over with its perfect platform for the "drive-by picture posting." My extremely short attention span has really enjoyed being able to edit and display a favorite photo within minutes and be DONE for the day. I'm not sure what I'm doing wrong on Blogger, but it is a wrestling match every single time. And although I always sorta win, it makes me want to curl up in a corner rocking with my Facebook wall by the time I'm done.

Life has been good. I have run into a constant struggle since having kids, but surprisingly it has nothing to do with them anymore. In the last 6 months we have slowly navigated our way to a new family groove and Raya is, dare I say it, an easy baby! Even better than Jude was at this age. I know, it's shocking. Other than the way she does a violent Riverdance during every diaper change making it nearly impossible and very annoying, she's great. But it seems as though we Bucheles put in our time at the front end of the baby stage. It's all hell until around 6 months, and then we sit back, relax, and enjoy our good little sleepers and mostly chill children for the rest of it. Until they hit 3, of course. Then it's a rocky road. But truly nothing like our Newborn Hell. Anyway, my new struggle is a personal one. It is the need for more time to be as creative as I feel now with these little guys around me. I'm so much more inspired, so saturated with fun ideas and find myself surrounded by wonderfully artsy friends. And, no extra time to really dig into any of it. Which is driving me crazy. I want to bake sweets. I want to make patchwork curtains from vintage linens. I want to master the manual setting on my camera. I want to crochet pixie hats. I want to make my own soap. I want somewhere really cool to wear all of the new boho tweed vintage coats I've found during my many thrift store adventures (upcoming blog post about those). And I should probably finish Raya's pregnancy scrapbook one of these days. Where is all of my extra time? Ah yes. It was used up peeling grapes, chopping cheese into the smallest cubes imaginable and washing white blond angel hair in an overly bubbly tub. And all that other stuff in between that makes a mom of two little ones feel overwhelmed most days. And yes, I am aware that someday I will miss all this.

In an attempt to feel somewhat caught up, I'm going to post a smattering of favorite holiday pictures and flash through the last few months. My husband says that being "caught up" is an absolute impossibility for me, especially with the recent discovery of a new brilliance in my life called Pinterest. Do not click on that link if you are crafty and easily inspired, unless you currently find yourself bored. Don't. Do it.

Halloween

A 3 month old colicky baby girl in a homemade poodle skirt and personalized cardigan, a larger (slightly less cranky) 50s style mama, and two greasers. And way too much candy for a toddler.

(You may be wondering why this one is first when the other holidays are in descending order by month. That's because Blogger is winning this round and instead of reloading all the pictures, I'm gonna just have them be out of order. I deserve a few points for letting go of my perfectionism a little tonight, right?)

Easter

Decorated eggs, handmade baskets (just the lining, I didn't weave those personally), train rides, egg hunts, and a Herbie car that took me a very long time to make. See that sad face on Jude down there? That's due to a back bumper failure. It fell off moments after being taken out of his Easter basket. I meticulously placed each tiny Herbie racing decal on that plain white VW bug, carefully sealed it with 3 coats of clear nail polish to protect it from toddler crashing...and the BUMPER FALLS OFF. Nice.

Valentine's Day

A charming picnic lunch with Grandma at the arboretum, Jude's first glittery handmade Valentines, and generally lots of pink and red.

Christmas

Little color coordinated outfits, night walks through magically lit neighborhoods, sticky sucker Christmas card photo shoot, and the best Christmas morning so far. Oh, and a massive, epic meltdown on Christmas Eve, compliments of that darling girl below.

And there you have it. The last half of a Buchele year in a nutshell. And it only took me about 6 hours to get the spacing (mostly) right.

Darkness and Light

2010-11-26T18:09:00.000-08:00

So yeah, it's been awhile. I had a baby girl that decided to overthrow my entire system of being and I've been, "out of it" for a few months. The wonderful thing is that her colic fussies ended right when she turned 2 months old. The not so great thing is that she still has major separation anxiety and won't let anyone hold her except for me and Rhys. So that means, no babysitting for us. And I've nicknamed her my "sleep diva" because she currently sacks out in our bedroom closet. We realized that she was hyper sensitive to both light and sound, so she had to be stashed somewhere very... cozy. And she has slept pretty well ever since. But she had an issue with sleeping anywhere outside of this closet, so family outings were a challenge since she naps every 2 hours. And closets aren't portable.

When I found this Day Out with Thomas the Train event many months ago, I knew we'd have to take Jude to it no matter what our home life was like. So I bought (very expensive, non refundable) tickets before I'd even given birth to Raya. Kind of a challenge to myself: Whatever life throws your way, you must get through this day. We had to go. Thomas is Jude's hero. I mean, what kind of mom would I be to keep a kid away from his hero?

This place is an hour drive into the dusty hills of Perris, CA. It's missing the old ghost town shacks but it comes stocked with the tumbleweeds and a complete lack of civilization. So we packed up the car and headed out with our very excited toddler and our non-napping, ready-to-meltdown-any-minute infant for a fun filled day of adventure. And I'm serious, Raya was an angel baby that day. Infants like to pull out tricks and really surprise you sometimes. We strolled her around in her car seat and although she didn't sleep, she didn't make a peep either. And then she SLEPT THE ENTIRE WAY HOME. Unheard of. I had to take a picture from the front seat because I couldn't actually believe it was happening. Which is why the picture is a little close and was taken at an "up the nostril" angle.

Since that day two weeks ago, she's been a very easy baby. She is mellow, happy and just pure joy. She even took her naps in my mom's closet yesterday for Thanksgiving so apparently any closet will do. Hopefully CPS isn't reading my blog.

Tomorrow is my 34th birthday, and I'm taking the whole day off from motherhood. Meaning, I will be getting a massage and spending my Anthropologie gift card and seeing a movie and having dinner out without any tiny people around me. And unlike the last time I did this, I already know I'm gonna miss these little guys so much. Life has settled its dust for us and we are really enjoying each other. Jude has decided that Raya isn't "yucky" anymore, and loves to hold her and rub the top of her fuzzy head. After a minute of having her weight on him he says "Get this thing off me", but he is full of love when he says it. It really is amazing what 2 months can do. We went from pure darkness to a wonderful stream of sunlight.

But despite all this daily heartwarming preciousness, this girl needs an entire day to herself.

The Day Out with Thomas took place at a train museum which lent itself to some amazing surroundings and light.

♥

Gratitude

2010-09-16T17:10:00.000-07:00

I have been dreading this day for a while, partly because I knew I'd have to get up at 7 am after a regular night of non-sleep to be at our GI doctor appointment at 8 and mostly because I figured the news wouldn't be good. And like so many things in this strange and wonderfully unpredictable life, today turned out to be one of my best days in a long time.

Somehow we managed to drag ourselves out of bed at 7 am and be in the car with both kids by 7:20. Rhys and I deserve medals of honor for that accomplishment, and we are both our own heroes right now. Those of you with kids know just what I'm talking about. Anyway, the GI doc was an asian version of Keanu in The Matrix, really. He was profoundly perplexed at every turn of our conversation. I was thrilled to see that he was young and a good listener and had Versace glasses, though I don't know why that was of any importance. Something about a guy that can choose a gorgeous pair of prescription glasses really wins my heart. He listened to us very carefully, looked at the dirty diaper I'd stored in a ziploc baggie in the fridge, and said "I'm really happy with this poop." I was so relieved. He went on to say that Raya is in the 90th percentile for both her weight and height for this age. In other words, she's gigantic. Which means she is thriving on my breastmilk despite her continuous habit of fussing and frantic latching/unlatching. He also said that I could.... wait for it.... EAT WHATEVER THE HECK I WANT!! She has no food allergy, based on the fact that I have been killing myself on this elimination diet for over 2 weeks with no results. I told him that the appointment was well worth the $250 just for the go-ahead to eat Oreos again. He looked at me and said "$250?!?" as if he didn't know what he was charging for his office visits. Mmm hmm.

So here's the good/bad news: Raya is perfectly healthy, she just has a raging case of colic. He said to hang on, the worst is yet to come, until around 4-6 months. And I had a tiny heart attack right there, a small stroke in my chair. I had read that 50% of babies are done with colic by 2 months, and I'm holding on for dear life to that statistic. He said he wanted to give me the worst case scenario, to which I then said: "Don't." Let's just assume she's in that 50% group. Every day I wake up and say to a deceptively enchanting Raya, "Is today the last day of your colic?" and she smiles wide as if to say "Heck yes, mama. I'm done with that old trick. I'm as exhausted as you are." And I will pretend every day, every time she has an episode, every minute she's screaming, that this is the last. And one day all of a sudden, it really will be.

So I headed straight for the Nordstrom Cafe and got a mocha ice storm, a turkey & swiss croissant sandwich and a huge slice of chocolate bundt cake. That's right, the food hoarding has begun. I didn't waste any time. See how my drink is gone? That's because I drank it all before I had a chance to get home and take a picture.

Then I went to get the mail which has become my new "special time away" from home. I get my jeans on and head out past our lawn all the way to the mailbox! And today's mail... oooohhhh, today's mail.

My sweet, sweet soul sista Mandy made this amazing little hardcover book for me called "The People Who Love You." It is a compilation of all the girls on my Babycenter board that I started almost 3 years ago for girls like me who weren't immediately stuck down with pure joy at the onset of motherhood. They have become my closest friends, and I've never even met most of them in person. We talk every day about absolutely everything and they are my lifeline. This book includes pictures of all of them with little notes and jokes about each one, and how they miss me and are thinking of me during this hard time with Raya. And the last page includes a dear picture of my faithful loved ones. My husband, my little son... and Jeff Goldblum.
My other sweet, sweet soul sista Emily sent me a sunny polka dotted care package that consisted of: a gorgeous handmade wool flower headband for me, and a tiny matching one for Raya... a perfectly written note that hit every spot my heart needed, and a mix tape entitled "Crappy Days Mix." Words cannot begin to describe how much I loved everything in this box. Em, this is your thank you card. :) Thank you, thank you, thank you.

So, I decided that today is a day for a gratitude list. Here are the things that I'm currently, overwhelmingly grateful for.

My husband, who loves me so deeply and it shows in every little thing he does

My happy, healthy Jude and his consistent 3-hour daily naps that save my life every afternoon

My sister Melissa, and her thoughtful and clever view on life's tough situations

My mom, who's help with Jude during these hard days has been so needed
*

My Aunt Nancy, who always seems to have me in her thoughts and sends me emails that make me laugh

My Babycenter sisters, for everything

Emily and her continuous creativity and inspiration

My mother in law, who drives 6 hours for visits and birthdays and has a wonderful way with Jude

My crazy brother Daniel, who leaves messages on my voicemail like this one the other day: "Apparently when you leave a message on a cell phone, there's delivery options. Kinda like, either having a c-section, or a VBAC. Like you did. That's it."

My new found appreciation for the tiniest of pleasures during the very small amounts of quiet time when my baby girl is actually sleeping: a cup of tea, an episode of Mad Men, a hot bath

The pink Soothie pacifier that Raya now accepts on occasion

Nordstrom coffee and delectables

And despite everything she has put me through...

Raya, our pink frosting.

(And by the way missy, you're grounded until you are 15.)

Shapeshifting

2010-09-15T09:49:00.000-07:00

It's almost 10 am and I'm usually sleeping in until around 10:30 after the longest night of fitful non-sleep with my newborn. But I can't seem to fall back to sleep this morning, there are so many things swirling around in my head. Pictures to edit, places I wish I could go, people to write back, thank you cards to mail, a 3rd birthday party to plan... it's endless. Just like the daily exhaustion I feel with this new tiny human who has taken over our household in a major way. And the way the days and nights just roll right into one another and I find myself wondering what month we are even in now. Just, endless. It feels like our own twisted version of Inception, where we are stuck in a nightmare and then fall into another, deeper level of nightmare and then is it possible? Oh yes, a third and fourth dimension of nightmare. So instead of laying in bed trying to sleep, I'm going to write it all out here and maybe that will make me feel like I've accomplished something today.

It was all going wonderfully until Raya turned 3 weeks old. The first 2 weeks were surprisingly easy: she slept well, she breastfed well, Jude adjusted well... I was focused on healing and keeping the household as neat and peaceful as possible, which was a breeze. Then Rhys went back to work and Raya went crazy. She didn't seem to be interested in sleeping anywhere but on my chest, which is difficult when you have a toddler that is dying to play catch outside. Then breastfeeding changed and she started to become fussy and would choke, gag and spit out milk while she was eating. After extensive online research I realized I had an overactive letdown and oversupply of milk, which means I create a "baby beer bong" experience for my newborn where she is desperately trying to handle the amount of milk being forced at her. Which causes latching issues, which causes gas, which causes more fussiness. After a few hundred calls in to the lactation consultants I started to block feed her to regulate my milk supply which is just now, almost 5 weeks later, starting to work. But wait! Then, about a week later, a green slime debuts in her diaper which indicates a lactose or other food intolerance. After more Googling I found that an oversupply of milk can mean a foremilk/hindmilk imbalance. Since Raya can't possibly ever drain a boob fully, she never gets to the high fat hindmilk and is overloaded with the foremilk which is sugary and high in lactose and in large amounts can cause a secondary, real lactose intolerance. After two weeks of this and not seeing a change in her diapers, we went to the pediatrician. She said the green may be a hindmilk issue but the slimy indicated a food allergy of some kind and put me on an elimination diet. Which means I cannot eat dairy, soy, eggs, fish, nuts, berries, caffeine or citrus. Hello? Please find me something to eat because I'M FLIPPIN' STARVING OVER HERE. Trying to find food made without dairy or soy is impossible, people. I'm currently living on chocolate Cheerios, rice milk, spaghetti, turkey patties, chicken, bacon, hash browns, rice, watermelon and root beer. Seriously, every one of my meals includes one or more of these things. This elimination diet makes me want to eliminate someone, if you get my drift.

It has been 5 weeks of this diet and we are just now seeing a tiny bit of change in her diapers, but sadly not in her fussy, non-sleeping mood. Raya has pretty severe colic and is not a fan of sleep. She fights it all day long. For 30 or so minutes after eating, she is a smiley happy baby that loves to chat and look around. She is quite precious and adorable. Then she starts getting tired and we try endless efforts to soothe her into a nap, which usually works eventually. But then she wakes up within 10-30 minutes. The sound of her starting to stir and fuss within 15 minutes of an exhausting series of tricks to put her to sleep is depressing beyond words. (This baby hates the bouncer, the swing, the pacifier, all 3 of my infant slings, the new bassinet we tried, white noise machines, being swaddled, and car rides.) We try to soothe her back to sleep, which usually doesn't work well. Repeat 100 times during the day and then flash to 8 pm to find me crying in a bathroom because Rhys left for work 7 hours ago and I've done this alone with Jude hanging onto one leg and I just can't take it anymore. I miss my old life, I miss my husband and my charming and hilarious little man. Rhys has been sleeping on the couch for weeks, since he has to function at work every day with a bunch of kids on squeaky violins. And he needs to be able to take Jude to the park and put dishes away and cook dinner (yes, he does all of this. He is the best husband ever.) So. I'm with Raya all night long, by myself, trying to get her to eat a full meal and then sleep a nice chunk of time for me so I don't go insane and fire bomb my neighbor's house just to release some tension. I also fought off a painful plugged milk duct which made me temporarily lose my milk supply, and have been fighting off the nagging temptation to just go buy that special, really expensive baby formula and see if that "cures" her. Then maybe we'd be able to step outside of our home and actually see the light of day. But then I think, look how far we've come. Jude only breastfed for three weeks before landing us in the ER due to 24 hours of spitting up everything I made. That diagnosis? Overeating.

This truly is the hardest thing I have ever done.

But the hardest part is not knowing when it will end. Or if there is anything I can do to make her stomach feel better other than give up every comfort food I need right now to pull me through this. I need Oreos and caprese salad and sushi and cupcakes and angel hair alfredo and mocha ice storms from Nordstrom in the WORST WAY these days. But hey, some good news: I'm 5 pounds lighter than I was pre-pregancy. So when I'm off this diet, watch out world. I have dangerously ambitious gorging plans ahead. Another plus is that I do not have postpartum depression to fight this time, which would have made this hard situation completely impossible. I have what my clever ob/gyn likes to call, "situational stress."

Tomorrow we have an appointment with a pediatric GI specialist. I'm really hoping he doesn't look at her diaper and say "Yep, that's baby poop alright." Because I really need someone to give me an answer of some kind. And for the $250 bill we'll be receiving, I need something substantial to hold on to. A dozen glazed donuts, perhaps?

How Carrie Got Her VBAC

2010-08-01T12:22:00.000-07:00

I'm finally done! I tried to keep her birth story under 200 pages.

There's also a little slide show of our hospital stay.

Make an on-line slideshow at www.OneTrueMedia.com

Summer

2010-07-19T17:14:00.000-07:00

Ah, the lazy days of summer. Toddlers have it made, don't they? For once I'd like someone to push me around the mall in a stroller with a snack tray full of goodies. This post is here because I'm fooling around with my new storyboard software on Photoshop and having ridiculous amounts of fun with it.

Yep. Still pregnant.

Pink Frosting

2010-07-14T15:06:00.000-07:00

Aside from making a daughter, I've been busy crafting, photographing a stuffed monkey, organizing (and then reorganizing) and alphabetizing the entire house. The usual nesting at the end of pregnancy I guess, but to the extreme. And I started this at around 18 weeks pregnant so it has been going on for awhile. I've been putting that saying "Live today like it is your last" to good practice. Not in the, *I'm gonna die tomorrow* way... but the, *I'm going to have a newborn soon and my life will temporarily end* way. So I'm paying bills early, filling photo albums with pictures from last year, trying to catch up with life, if that is even possible. The amount of to-do lists around here is laughable: I have one for household adventures, one for last minute hospital bag packing, one for Rhys, one for what to pack in Jude's overnight bag for Grandma's house... they are everywhere. I've always loved to-do lists, especially when I make a fresh to-do list and add more projects so I can cross things off the old to-do list, just because it has been transferred to the new list. Nothing actually got done, but it was moved. Therefore it can be crossed off before it's thrown out, and somehow that is satisfying in a completely useless way. Anyone with me on that?

One of the projects that did get crossed off was Raya's birth CD, which is done. (I blacked out her middle name on the cover since it's still a secret). I made one for Jude's birth and didn't listen to it until after he was born, but still love the compilation of songs that I chose during that time in my life and how it makes me feel to revisit it. I'm hoping I can actually use this CD as intended, to help relax and distract me during labor. I will be attempting a VBAC (vaginal birth after cesarean) this time, after finding a supportive doctor and hospital. So I may rather use this precious little CD as a ninja star throwing device, we'll see how it all works out.

So, I figured I would post a last pregnancy picture because I'm convinced I cannot get any bigger than I am now and I'm hoping this will be it for the belly pics. My friends have nicknamed me The Torpedo, I'm sure no explanation is necessary. Luckily I have my 50mm lens on so the camera is sharp and I'm a little blurry... which I think works out quite nicely in this situation. I feel like a celebrity when out in public because everyone, and I mean everyone, wants to come and ask me questions about how incredibly large I am. Is it triplets? Are they overdue by a week? How are you standing without tipping over? And my personal favorite comment: Look at how you're carrying all up front, that's a boy! And after 6 ultrasounds I can pretty much say no, it isn't. And you know why else it isn't? Because I've got more invested emotionally and financially to ever make that switch, thank you very much. What can I say, this kid better like feminine clothes and decor either way. Rhys said we can simply remove the last "a" in Raya's name that hangs above her crib, if it's a boy. Problem solved, man-style.

So here is another project crossed off my list: Jude's alphabet book. This idea came from Emily who is mentioned in nearly every blog entry of mine, because that's just how much she watercolors my life. It took two nap sessions in which I snuck in after Jude was asleep and gently removed his favorite buddy, Monkey, from his grasp. I took pictures of Monkey representing each letter of the alphabet and had a book printed from Blurb.com. Jude loves it and I'm proud to have something as a keepsake for him that captures this particular time in his life in such a unique way. It also gives Monkey a true personality, which apparently is silly with slightly sarcastic undertones.

And while I'm scrambling to get all of these details done, I am very aware that I am in no way prepared for what is to come. I am trying to control everything around me while I still have a moment, because once I have two kids I am convinced I will not know what hit me. I have a pretty substantial stash of new toys for Jude for when his little sister arrives, hoping that will distract and impress him while his life is forever shifted. And as much as I tell him "I did this for you, my sweet boy! I made you a little life companion! She'll run circles with you at the playground someday!", he has no clue that his party is about to be crashed. And this makes me sad, the fact that our life as it is will go away. BUT. The idea that very soon my whole family will be out of my body forever, and complete, feels like the pink frosting on a cake that's a little too dry. We'll just concentrate on eating the frosting. And someday, after Newborn Boot Camp is over, I'll be well-rested and rebalanced and energized enough to make a good cake again.

Note to Self

2010-07-04T12:49:00.000-07:00

You know when you read something and insantly wish you'd written it? Well this is that, for me. I found this on a blog years ago, saved it in my "Carrie's Random Stuff" file and just stumbled upon it again. The sad thing is, I have no idea who to give the credit to. I looked everywhere trying to find the guy who wrote this and I've lost him. So if he finds this, sorry guy. I wish I could have given you the wonderous credit you so deserve for this. For perfectly capturing the way I feel every time it rains. And when I remember in those tiny magical moments in the ordinary that this is what it's all about. All of it, happening right now.

Sometimes it moves pretty quick. When you don't have time to think. React. Remember days when all you had was time. Time to reflect. Now. Now is for living.

Just live.

Wake up, tie your boots on and get out in it. Smell it, feel it. Roll down the windows so you can hear it. Listen. Make some noise so you can be part of it. Put your hands in it. Deep. Pick it up and toss it around. Break it open against the ground. Flip it over.

Drink it up. Let it spill. Touch.

Take the time to do that.

Take the effort to throw it a mile high and kick it when it comes down. Hug it and don't let it go. Stare at it. Clench your fists and yell it. Raise your arms to celebrate it. Hold its hands and dance. Close your eyes and take a chance. Make it happen.

Crawl through it on your hands and knees. Surrender. Defy. Rebel. Let it break you down. Get up with it. Run with it until your legs give out and you can't breathe or move or shout. Encircle it. Let it in. Float in it. Spin... Smile. Ride. Stack it up into the sky.

Burn it down to feel the heat. Chase it down a city street.

Tell it jokes until you cry. Cry with it. Cry with it until you smile. Laugh with it for a while.

Make it pretty. Give it away. Cover it with mud. Let it stay.

Race it to the edges of the Earth. Jump with it. Fly above.

Dream about it.

Shower it with love. Protect it.

Never. Ever. Forget it.

Don't forget.

(Note to Self)

This is it.

Wandering Free

2010-04-26T15:09:00.000-07:00

I've been meaning to blog for so long now, about so many things. I got the most beautiful gift in the mail from Emily, my long-distance muse, and took so many pictures to capture that wonderful moment of opening the brown paper wrapping and beholding a creativity & sunshine that only she can send. But I haven't blogged it, and I haven't blogged about the magical day when we found out we are having a baby girl, and I haven't blogged our Easter adventures, or how I've entered into another Mom Dimension with the addition of a new double stroller, or about all the great movies I've seen lately, or about how perfect our 5 year anniversary weekend at the Mission Inn was, or how we moved Jude into a vintage twin bed that is so beautiful and he's done so well with the switch and how I gave the nursery a complete makeover... I guess I've been having too much fun to sit at the computer and apply myself. Until now, until this, because I can't seem to do anything else with myself but cry. And what good does that do anyone really? Well you know what I mean, it's not something you can check off a to-do list.

On Friday when I went to get the mail (and have I mentioned this is one of my favorite things to do? Even when it's just junk mail, I love getting the mail. Because sometimes you get those "perfect mail days" when it's all brown paper package surprises and eBay purchases and Anthropologie catalogues and no bills at all! Anyway.) there was a black crow sitting on the mail box. I'm not superstitious but I've heard that's a sign of bad things to come. Which got me thinking about how life has been so great lately with mothering and our business and every little thing. Which made me wonder: When's this luck gonna shift? Because it always does. And the floods come and it feels like it's never going to stop but it does. It may sound pessimistic but I just like to keep it real.

It shifted the next day.

I was getting ready to go out for a perfect night with my boys: Lebanese dinner at Papa Hassans and Cherry on Top frozen yogurt bar for dessert, in charming old town Orange. It's one of our favorite things to do on a Saturday night after a family adventure and a nap. I'd given the tweezers out of my make-up bag to Jude so he could go "fix things". I was in the bedroom and Rhys was in our living room with Jude, when I heard a loud zapping sound and then screaming. All of our electricity had gone out and I ran into the front room where Rhys had scooped Jude up, ran towards the bathroom and yelled "He just electrocuted himself!" He had stuck the tweezers into the one solitary outlet that didn't have a plastic safety cover. I think I took it off to vacuum and left it off, but can't remember, it's just always been covered. I've not been one to take First Aid or CPR classes, I just don't have that preparation mentality. I chalk that up to having to pack a backpack in constant anticipation of The Big One, an earthquake that my apocolyptic, disaster-minded dad was convinced would be ending the world. And so many other things I lived in fear of, but that's a heavy post for another day. So I had no idea what to do but grab my son and run his burned fingers under cold water. Without the internet we couldn't look up the proper instant care of electrical burns so Rhys ran around trying to locate my cell phone to call the pediatrician. Who had to call us back, and by that time we were already in the car on the way to the ER with a tiny hand in a bucket of ice water. He screamed at the top of his lungs until his hand was numb, and then was perfectly happy with his Tootsie Roll pop in the other hand.

The ER experience was typical... slow, inept, frustrating, etc... so I'm not going to get into that. I'll just note that it took 2 nurses and an hour to get one EKG reading. And my child was sitting completely still, watching Finding Nemo on our portable DVD player. Heaven help them with a normal squirmy 2 year old. The hardest part was when they took the ice bucket away and dressed his third degree burns on three fingers. I've never heard Jude scream and cry the way he did then, and I can't get the image or sound out of my head. It just won't go away. It was also tough to have a social worker come and interview Rhys and I and inform us that since this was a "preventable accident", we should be expecting a visit from Child Protective Services. Now I know just what it feels like when your child is kidnapped and you are on the suspect list.

We came home to a dark house. Rhys rewired the outlet and got the electricity back on but our computer was fried. It was on the fritz but like an old Buick, we'd figured out how to jiggle it around a bit to get it to hang on for a whole year longer. It's amazing how far away the whole world feels when you are disconnected from the internet.

This isn't something that I ever expected to happen to Jude. He's such a careful little guy and he's so clingy that I'm almost always 2 inches away from him anyway. He doesn't take risks. He holds onto the stair rail every time because he wants to, not because I tell him to. After I unload him from the car he inevitably says "Hold my hand!" before we even get near a street. Accidents and injuries have been almost non-existent. But he does like to fix things with tools he finds around our house, and this one just happened to be made of metal. And the thing he decided to fix just happened to be a live electrical outlet. He's going to be fine, and it could have been so much worse. So I should focus on that. I know. I've gotten lots of "You guys really got lucky with this." And while I completely know what they mean, lucky is not something I feel right now. Rhys said there was a huge explosion with a shower of sparks when the incident happened, so the fact that nothing but a tiny dot in our carpet caught on fire will have to be our silver lining. That, and Jude will be completely healed in about two weeks and walked away with only small finger burns. Nothing that a little medication, sugar, and Blues Clues can't fix.

So here I sit, 4 pounds lighter than I was on Saturday due to stress and forgetting to eat and lugging the 30 lb love of my life around because I couldn't bear to let go of him for a second (although I have plenty of fat reserves from the pregnancy, I'm certainly not wasting away over here). We just got back from the follow-up appointment at a burn unit. Rhys went to work and I redressed Jude's burns and put the tiny mesh glove on his hand for the second time. And now he's napping peacefully, all is calm and quiet, and I don't know how I'm going to do this. For the next two weeks, and for the rest of my life. He's been so brave, so full of toddler gratitude, so patient, so good. I feel like I don't deserve it. He even said "Thanks for helping with my burns, Mama" and at one point came up with "Don't worry!" out of nowhere, in the most adorable toddler tone. How is he smarter than me in a situation like this? How is he not crying as much as I am? I hold it together until he's no longer around and then I just crumble. My baby has third degree burns and I feel like I'll never be able to relax as a mother again. I try so hard to be The Calm Mom and feel like I've been succeeding... and with Jude's gentle temperment it hasn't been difficult. Not a lot of "nos" just for the sake of saying no, lots of room to experiment and explore, surprisingly relaxed. But now I'd like to be substituted out of this game, thank you. I just can't do it, it's too hard. I'm a control freak idealist with no religion, how am I supposed to handle this? I love this tiny human so much it hurts, even when nothing is wrong there is an ever-present aching, because I know life brings ups and downs and I need them all to be ups for this guy. It feels like a part of my heart has walked off on two little legs and I'm fiercely trying to protect it but I just can't. It's out there, wandering free. It's gonna have a mind of it's own. It's going to have a drivers license someday and could get on a motorcycle anytime he wants. And hey, guess what?! I'm making another extension of myself right this minute, who'll be born at the end of July and divide every fiber of my aching love into even smaller pieces, and who will be going out on dates that extend way past her curfew and will be driven around by her boyfriend's race car convertible.

Really?

How do I do this.

The Space Between

2010-02-04T14:02:00.000-08:00

I posted a video (bottom of the blog) that I came across yesterday on one of my favorite photographer Davina's blog, created by the beautifully talented author Katherine Center. I was having a really bad day all around, and this little video instantly made everything better. I've watched it a few dozen times and somehow I have cried every single time, even though I have it memorized. That's mostly because of how artistically crafted it is, but can also be chalked up to some serious pregnancy hormones. I love that video.

Motherhood.

Equal parts joy and heartache.

It requires so much more than you ever thought you had to give.

~
Here I sit with a second baby riding shotgun, wondering how on earth I'll be able to mother two children at the same time. Wondering how I got as far as I did with this one I already have. I remember what one newborn was like, a little too vividly. Throw a toddler into the mix and what do you have? A simultaneous, three-way meltdown. I hope I can learn to balance this new life faster than I did the last one. There is nothing harder than finding that space in between Mother and Self. But there is also nothing more rewarding than discovering it and being able to stay in that delicate place.

Where does it end? Where do I begin...

2010-01-25T20:53:00.000-08:00

I've been gone so long, it feels like I died and was reborn as someone else... someone with the longest, strongest stomach flu anyone has ever survived. In other words, I'm pregnant.

I'm not going to spend a bunch of time trying to describe what the last 8 weeks (that's right, TWO MONTHS) of constant, all-day nausea was like because there are no words that could. Imagine walking around with someone's finger down your throat all day. It's kinda like that. In the last two months, I have left my couch and ventured out of the house only three times. You can imagine how many hours of HGTV that represents, and I think in the future if I see anyone trying to stage a home for a quick flip I might have an instant gag reflex from the association. I will also never be able to look at another Ritz cracker again.

As I type this, I am 14 weeks pregnant with my second baby and still have morning sickness. Which must have been named by a man because a woman WOULD HAVE KNOWN BETTER. It lasts all day. The only highlight of my day was being able to make a thick black "X" in Sharpie pen across the day I had just defeated on the calender... the only thing that made me feel somewhat accomplished. Today I seem to be getting slightly better, which is a relief because I was beginning to doubt that I'm growing a baby in my body at all but some wildly dangerous strain of the flu. What a horribly disappointing ultrasound that would be.

I feel incredibly blessed to have this opportunity to be pregnant with another tiny person. I have a few friends who are having trouble conceiving and I realize that my morning sickness is nothing compared to the frustration and heartache that surely causes. Every day I feel lucky to have gotten pregnant when I wanted to and that I've had no serious complications so far. That being said, this will be the last Buchele I make. I just can't go through this again. And if you ever hear me say that I'm tossing around the idea of having a third, please direct me to this blog entry ASAP.

So here's the amazing part. As it turns out, I live with the two best guys EVER. I knew this before, but the last couple of months have really proven it to me. Rhys has done more cooking, cleaning, diaper-changing and random-food-fetching that any one person should ever have to do and he hasn't missed a beat. On top of it, he has maintained a steady level of sympathy and support and love for cranky little me the entire time. I should mention that I've perfected the ultra-ratty hairstyle of Hermione circa early Harry Potter. And he seems to love me even more these days, despite the rats nest hairdo and the lazy outfits. I guess making internal organs of an offspring scores major points.

And my Jude, oh my little Jude. I'm amazed by this person every day, who seems to have caught onto the idea that mama isn't feeling her best, and has really been compassionate. He has been content just snuggling under a cozy blanket on the couch, watching home make-over shows and TLC all day. His favorite is Cake Boss, and oh my word, when there was an episode in which Sesame Street ordered their 40th anniversary cake from the Cake Boss it was the best day of Jude's life. I've been so lucky to have a toddler with his sensitive personality during this trying time of illness. It saved me. He even started asking to "Watch Ellen dance?" and "Where's a cake man?" I watched my share of Blues Clues too, so it all evened out. And no, we don't normally watch this much television. But I figured I'm in "survival mode" right now and 2 months of TV isn't going to ruin my toddler. I hope.
~

This new baby I'm baking appears to be quite a food connoisseur. I have craved nothing but gourmet meals from the start and watching Iron Chef really does us both in. If only I could have a personal chef here at the house, making me seared ahi (not like I could eat it anyway with those mercury levels, but whatever), caprese salads, delicately glazed lamb chops and risotto... I'd be huge right now. So I guess it's a good thing I don't have a personal chef living here.

Here's our latest precious moment: I told Rhys the other day that I'd been craving strawberry cupcakes with strawberry frosting (PINK!!?). So guess what our grocery list for tomorrow includes? That's right, he wrote on his own: strawberry cupcakes, strawberry frosting, SPRINKLES (this was his own doing, I did not specify sprinkles) and cupcake cups. I cried when I saw these delicate feminine ingredients written in my husband's writing. He's gonna make me cupcakes. It's the sweetest thing of all time.

I'm a crazily lucky girl.

A Great Deal of Maintenance Required

2009-10-29T14:57:00.000-07:00

I heard Pearl Jam's Nothingman on the radio last night while sitting in the car. It had been years since I'd heard it and it took me right back there... to that place where crazy naivety meets romantic melancholy under pale yellow street lights, where everything still seems incredibly possible and yet just out of reach.

I don't know what it is about this song, but it does something to me. It always has. It was released right before my birthday in 1994, I had just graduated from high school. I was 17 and full of energy and quiet rage and wonder of what this gigantic world had waiting for me. This was my song of choice to sit and cry to, and no matter what the situation was, the melody always fit my sorrow. And of course, like all favorite songs from the past, there is one particular boy it makes me think of. And a girl. The ones who remind me of my youth and that crackling creative energy that fueled my life back then.

Then I remembered THIS~ one of the most brilliantly written moments on television. It was a flashback montage on Californication, set perfectly to Nothingman. It captures the exact feeling I get when I hear this song, and the dramatic mood that was my life back then. Full of road tripping and off-key singing and obnoxiously loud laughing. Flowers on the dashboard. Polaroids galore. Breaking up, making up. Trying to find a perfect balance. A beautiful, unparalleled trust that friends will be there forever.

Full of the Not Knowing... oh so bittersweet.

But would I go back? No way. Well, maybe for a little while.

If I could take 25 minutes out of the record books.

Random Ramblings of a Redhead

2009-09-28T13:15:00.000-07:00

This one's gonna be long and random, a pish-posh of memories from August and September. I went to a taping of Dr. Phil with my friend Kristy, and before you start throwing chairs at me, I didn't go to see Dr. Phil. I went to see my Favorite Person in the World That I've Never Met, Heather Armstrong, talk about the neverending Stay-At-Home Mom vs Working Mom debate. I sent an email request to be in their audience and got a call back the next day. The guy interviewed me over the phone about my life as a mother and apparently I "passed," because we were invited and placed in the front row about 5 seats from Heather. I wanted to throw her a paper airplane note but I decided against it. I didn't want Robin McGraw coming after me.
I'm not sure when the show airs since the producers had no idea themselves.
I think our favorite part was walking through an old Hollywood cemetery to get to the studio.

We bought Jude a new wagon and gave him high-speed rides over parking lot speed bumps. The next morning I woke up sore. This is when you know you're getting old.

Ah, the Orange County Fair. Jude had his first Dippin Dots ice cream which turned out to be the best experience of his life so far. He pet some interesting animals, went on his first carny ride, and had cotton candy for the first time. We had a blast, then I thought I'd come down with a horrible chronic disease a few days later. Rule #1: Don't eat the fair food. That's also Rule #2-10.

Rhys and I have been working like mad on our Mosaic Music studio's website and marketing stuff. Throw two people together to try to design a website who have no clue how to work Adobe Illustrator, Photoshop or Dreamweaver and you have quite a circus. Even though it was incredibly frustrating, we were proud to be able to do it ourselves, together. We've just introduced a Mommy & Me and Musical Theater class and we're hoping they are successful. The Mommy & Me class was featured on our local OC mom blog Tiny Oranges. Jude and I were the first to sign up for our class, of course. Although I have a fear of singing in a little circle of toddlers I figure if I own the place, I won't have to. Or, they'll have to pretend I'm great.

Our little family spent a bunch of time in Long Beach, shopping on 2nd street, getting cupcakes at Frosted, and walking on the beach. Our favorite thing about Long Beach is a little street called Loynes that is so bumpy if you hit a bend fast enough, you catch air. We speed down that road and do u-turns until we start feeling sick.

And sadly, there was a first black eye this month. Jude decided it would be cool to do a nose-dive off the couch and into the coffee table. Here is his trophy. Don't you think the wife-beater tank top adds a little something to this look?

Current life goals of mine include: Sitting around the table that brainstorms concepts for new seasons of Dexter, visiting the Muppet ranch in LA, and being a back-up dancer for a performance of Michael Jackson's Smooth Criminal. I know that last one is a bit tricky since the King of Pop is no longer with us, but since I spent the better part of my early adulthood practicing those particular dance moves, it deserves to be on my Dream List. The costumes, the dancing, the Man. I was supposed to be a part of that original music video, I was just born a little too late.

My short-term goal is throwing my son a 2nd birthday party on Saturday. Really? Two years? Okay, sometimes it seems like he should be 10 by now... but other times it feels like a flash of light.

Sweet Sean Brady... no, not the one from Days of Our Lives

2009-09-27T22:20:00.000-07:00

Oh wow. Has it been two months since I've blogged? So much happens in two months these days, it's overwhelming to think of trying to catch up. Being the Director of Development for a toddler isn't a small task, but hey... the pay is great. Oh wait, I WORK FOR FREE. Well, he pays me in extremely tight neck hugs and random jigs to music only he can hear, which is the best compensation of all time.

Highlights of this month include a photo shoot with Baby Sean Brady who was perfection in every way. Oh how I loved this photo session. Funny how much I love photographing babies this small but if I had to spend more than one night trying to keep them fed and well-rested, I'd be done before I started. I'm hoping the next tiny Buchele is one amazing sleeper right out of the gate like this little guy was.

Baby Sean was almost 2 weeks old here. Don't you just wanna pinch a cheek or two?

And since Blogger seems to have a spacing vendetta against me tonight, I'm going to post this now before I slowly go insane trying to add more pictures from the Highlights of my last couple of months. I'll be back.

You're Never Too Old to Not Learn Something New

2009-07-30T20:18:00.000-07:00

I was excited when my friend Kristy suggested taking a photo class together. She'd just bought a big-shot Canon 50D and I still hadn't read the manual that came with mine. Now, I've taken over 5 years of photography classes and majored in Creative Photography in college, but that didn't stop me from not retaining any of the handy technical information~ the stuff my brain automatically dismisses as being"unfun, non-artsy content." If it even resembles math, I shut down mentally. So I thought it would be great to take a refresher course on the interworkings of my camera, but mainly I enrolled so I could hang out with Kristy (and her friend Christi) every Wednesday night for 5 weeks. And it really was exhilarating~ three girls going out to dinner before class and then lounging with desserts at Steamer's Jazz Cafe after. And I'm proud to report that even in a 5-week course we managed to ditch the last half of one class. Our only regret was that we bothered with the first half.

Here's what I learned in my photo class.

Week 1: You're never too old to draw a heart tattoo on a friend's arm when you are bored in class.

Week 2: Nothing, absolutely nothing, is sweeter in this world than an elderly couple attending a digital photography course.

Week 3: A massive pool of cup condensation is a good measure of when you have been in one place too long.

Week 4: The world is your couch when you take your shoes off.

Week 5: You know when you are DONE with your class when:

a) You take careful notice of the room's emergency evacuation plan

b) You play mental checkers with yourself on your plaid pants

c) You clean out your purse, balance your checkbook, make next week's grocery list and then frantically try and think up another semi-domestic task to complete

d) You are truly interested in the doodle art of your neighbor

Oh yeah, and a gray card can solve all of life's problems.

Serenity

2009-06-28T14:46:00.000-07:00

I don't know exactly when it was, or what it was, but my life went from being one giant hell-hole to sweet, daily serenity. It still shocks me to hear myself say "I'm not fond of the baby stage," because who doesn't love babies? The same people who dislike Ellen, Moulin Rouge and small furry animals, no doubt? Nope. People who don't love infants are people who had babies with colic, babies who wouldn't nap, and who had sky-high expectations of themselves as mothers long before they gave birth. Don't get me wrong, I love other people's babies (as long as I can hand them over the moment they fuss.)

A year ago I was just starting to recover from that first year of Jude, a time I refer to as "The Black Hole 2007." Now I find myself starting to think about having another baby, and what it would be like to start all over again. I'm a) scared out of my mind and b) so in love with the idea of having a daughter, that the idea of getting pregnant again just fights itself out in my head almost daily. I'm convinced that even if my next baby is somehow a direct descendant of Satan himself, it could not be harder than the first time around. Only because I know how hard it is and the shock of how massively upsetting a newborn can be to one's whole character could not destroy me again. Anyway. Back to the happy.

Now, almost 2 years later, I am purely content and delighted with my "new" life as a mother. It really changed for me when Jude started to talk, and dance, and give random kisses. It made a world of difference~ he went from being a motionless blob of need to a sweet little funny-man. And those days I always longed for, those movie montage moments where everything is in slow motion... feathers flying from a pillow fight, little legs running through sprinklers, picking a bunch of wildflowers on a nature walk... this is finally how my life feels, at this moment. In every hour there is some random precious occurrence that makes me want to sing. (And heck yes, there are still meltdowns about some tiny thing that interrupts my bliss and makes me momentarily swear off another child altogether, but for once that's not what I'm writing about.) That life I have always worked toward and dreamed of is finally here. I have it. And I can honestly say that I've never been happier.

Death by Photoshop

2009-05-30T22:06:00.000-07:00

So it turned out to be a love/hate relationship. I went into meltdown mode the day after my last post while trying to learn Photoshop the, "proper way." Turns out you have to know a bunch about the program to even begin to comprehend the manual. Let's just say I may have spent more time throwing the manual against the wall than actually learning from it. I did Google tons of helpful tutorials, on "How to learn about how to learn Photoshop" and "Support groups for photographers-turned-cutters attempting Photoshop for the first time"...etc. At one point I had myself convinced that I never wanted to take or edit another photograph in my entire life.
And then there was Gibson.

My good friends Ryan and Lisa just had sweet baby Gibson Lee (what a cool name for a rock guitarist's son) on May 19th, so this little guy was only 10 days old for his first portraits. He inspired me to press on with Photoshop, and here are a few of my favorites from our shoot.

Baby Gibson, your adorableness saved me.

Patience is annoying

2009-05-25T14:37:00.000-07:00

Ahhhhhh, I'm in love!

I bought Photoshop CS2 and it arrived on Friday. Rhys installed it while I was away on my "alone-time weekend" and the moment Jude went down for a nap this afternoon I ran and tinkered around with it. Oh my gosh, there are so many applications and actions to learn, and I want to know it all NOW! Have I mentioned I'm not an instruction-manual-reading type of girl? I'm more of a trial-and-error learner, which takes at least twice as long and creates a constant little voice in my head that chants "am I really doing this right?" until I finally break down and read the manual. I still have no idea what most of the buttons on my fancy camera do, I just shoot "blindly" in the natural light & manual settings. Here is my first attempt at Photoshop, before reading any instructions. I promised myself I would though. Eventually. Why can't Jude take all-day naps when I need him to?

The Happy List

2009-05-22T14:00:00.000-07:00

The arboretum.
This is my new favorite spot. There is a bench hidden in the tall redwoods with a stream that runs right in front of it. I bring my lunch, book and journal and park it here. It smells so crisp and piney, and the sound of the brook just completes this pristine setting. For an hour or so I completely forget that I'm in Southern California. Until I pull out of the parking lot and almost get sideswiped by a bleached blond who is too busy texting to drive, then gives me the stink eye. But oh, the beauty of this spot, for that sweet hour.

The gratitude journal.

I started a journal of things I am grateful for in my life, because by writing them down I am able to truly appreciate how abundant they are. I'm in a particularly wonderful place in my life right now, where motherhood & creative Carrie have intersected. I was worried it would never again connect since mothering takes so much time and energy (and frankly, sucks out my very soul at times). But I've achieved a peaceful balance lately. I've made it a priority to feed my soul fresh air, good books, and more alone time. And from that came a gratitude journal that is overflowing with things that I have been blessed with... as a mother, a wife, and an artistic spirit.

The happy list.

One of the books I'm reading suggests making a list of the little things that make your heart glow. I thought it would be fun to post it so that I could look back on this moment in time and remember them all. This font was made from my own handwriting on this website which is so cool. I did it when it was free but I think they charge $15 for it now.
This weekend I have another hotel vacation all by myself, woo hoo! I will be eating a ton, shopping like a madwoman, and hopefully surviving to blog about it.

Easter, Poker, and other Frivolities

2009-05-14T23:15:00.000-07:00

Alright, this is going to be a long one. I'm torturously behind on my photo editing and realized that I haven't even posted Easter yet. This will be the Cliff Notes version of April events with the Bucheles.

This awesome little hand-crafted wooden chair was $16.99 at Home Goods. Are you kidding me? I almost felt guilty paying that little for it. The secret to getting this shot was dropping Jude in the middle of a tall, vast field of flowers. He hates walking in overgrown grass, therefore is "stuck" until I move him. I'm so bad. So what may be interpreted as a serene Spring moment was actually Jude worrying about how his next meal would find him in this field.

After realizing two days prior to the Easter egg hunt that I'd forgotten to get Jude a basket (then frantically trying to find a Pottery Barn one that I loved on eBay) I decided to just make him one. This worked only because it didn't require fancing sewing, only a bit of hand-stitching around the J inside the basket. I was amazed at how well he was with the egg search since he's never done anything like this before. He went around and collected every egg like an old pro. He must have been informed about the sugary snacks inside. A few days later we played poker at a birthday party. Here's Jude's poker face. He plays a mean Texas Hold'em.

We went back to the Mission Inn in April for our 4th wedding anniversary and it was so great to take Jude with us this time. On our wedding day I imagined we'd bring our kids back to visit someday, so it was really sweet to be there with him.

Also in April, Jude began his new "cheese face" for pictures. He does this when I make him pose for photos for more than a few shots... which is often. It makes him look a bit like Phillip Seymore Hoffman, not a particularly good look for him.

It's not easy, this stay-at-home-mom gig. Trying to think of new activities to entertain and educate your toddler all day is a daunting task. I find myself spinning Jude in an office chair, riding escalators in Nordstrom, coloring our atrium with sidewalk chalk, pillow fighting, reading the same books a thousand times, cutting endless amounts of food into tiny pieces, playing freeze dance with a musical greeting card, dancing to Zeppelin on crackling vinyl in the living room. Over and over. Yet somehow, I'm not sick of it. Somehow, this tiny person has taught me how to live in the moment. Sure, sometimes I get burned out or have days when I'm just not in the mood to be a mom~ but that's the case with every job I've ever had. I'm happy to report that I am really enjoying these precious little things that will all be gone before I know it. When I'm straightening his tie as he races out the door to his junior prom, I'll be happy to have these silly little memories with me.

Mother of the Year Award 2009

2009-05-07T15:34:00.000-07:00

It was an honor just to be nominated...

(Turn down my radio and click this link:) http://news.cnnbcvideo.com/?nid=PSg7Md6k47kAhaHSFKIeLzExMTU2MDY3&referred_by=4057973-Ot8AYex&p=moveon

Thanks Sharon, for sending me this. You're the best!

the boys, in quiet black & white

2009-04-27T14:00:00.000-07:00

Bigger Blog Pics!

2009-04-23T20:28:00.000-07:00

Don't worry, not all of my pictures will be this huge. I'm just testing out my new found skill. I emailed Emily asking for the secret to her gigantic blog pictures and she created an awesome tutorial about it. Click here if you want to see how the magic happens. Thanks again Emily, you are insanely cool for doing this.

A Love Story

2009-04-17T23:09:00.000-07:00

Today is my wedding anniversary. I've been married 4 years. It seems like yesterday that I was meeting my online semi-blind dates in a candlelit corner of the Gypsy Den coffee shop, in search of my true love. In honor of today I'm going to tell the story of how we met.

I was freshly out of a 6-month relationship with Izak, a guy I'd met on Yahoo personals. He was sweet, fun, and non-committal. I knew he wasn't husband material after he wondered aloud (in my presence) if he'd be single at 40. Thanks, buddy. So I ended that and decided to give up the online search and let fate take its course without any help from me or my computer. When I logged on to delete my Yahoo profile, a pop-up window for Lavalife appeared. This was the picture I saw:

I loved this artsy little ad, it's raining men! Perhaps I was just using the wrong online service? I clicked the link and did a basic search. I checked the box that said "profiles with pictures only" and it came up with 40 or so matches. All but one had a picture. It caught my eye because I wondered how it got in the bunch, and then I noticed his tag line: I'm Insane, Actually. Of course I had to pursue this... is he really nuts? But people that are crazy don't exactly know they're crazy, or don't advertise it... right? I was immediately intrigued. And then his next words. Oh, those perfect next words. Here is what Rhys wrote on his Lavalife profile~ August 25th, 2003:

"I'm insane, actually. My favorite activities include measuring your digits to see if they're in golden proportion to one another, dining in (how about fresh salmon with a ginger-teriyaki glaze topped with fresh mango cilantro black mustard salsa, feta and mache salad, homemade carrot cake for dessert?), a great bottle of wine, and a not often heard combination of Radiohead, Shostakovich and Miles Davis. Why not? Life is good. I mean, I understand what all the confusion is about. I really do! I just don't feel like being confused. I'd rather be wise and happy and fruitful. I'd rather be a good husband, a good father, a good person. There are too many boys and girls out there playing their little games, hurting one another, hurting their kids, hurting the world around them. I hate games. Why should love be so complicated and painful! You don't have to be perfect. You just have to know who you are."

Game over. There's my husband.

Now here's where it gets even better: the night I logged on was the very night he created and posted his profile. We'd found each other within hours. And somehow he found his way to me even without a profile picture. I paid $1.50 for 5 credits to email him, and by the next day we were both off of Lavalife.

We emailed like crazy and talked on the phone for hours. All the while I'd never seen what he looked like. But I didn't care, this was my German husband. After a week he finally borrowed a camera and sent me a picture, and I was elated. He fit into my "perfect physical features" category, I couldn't believe it. I half expected him to be 50 and obese, but I was ready for it. But no, an angel with white blond hair. Who plays the violin. Who can cook really well. Who's apartment was cleaner than mine.

For our first date, I drove to his house and I even left my online dating mace at home. I've never been so sure of anything in my life. I told the girls at work "See ya later, I'm off to meet my German husband." That night, towards the end of our 10-hour first date, we danced to Chet Baker's "This is Always." I made the decision in that moment that we would dance at our wedding to that same song. A year later we were engaged, 9 months after that we were married. And to this day, there is nothing I'm more sure of than this decision I made to spend the rest of my life with Rhys Buchele.

Here is a little slide show of wedding highlights I put together for our anniversary.
I love, love you, my German husband... you are a good husband, good father, good person.

**Scroll down to the very bottom of the page and hit the Pause button on the Playlist, before playing the slide show**

The Long Way Home

2009-03-31T22:29:00.000-07:00

Hallelujah!

Our long journey home has ended and we are finally where we are supposed to be.

A few things I've been reminded of lately:

*Drinking hot tea in a hot bubble bath is the cure for the common anything

*Having an attached garage saves your lower back (groceries + toddler= heavy)

*Having a sparkly new washer/dryer makes doing laundry downright delightful

*Warm homemade bread is damn good

We moved a few weeks ago, two garages down. But the difference in the two homes is vast and wonderful. We now have a bathtub that isn't located in Jude's nursery, a garage that opens to the house, a new washer/dryer of our very own and... I found my old bread maker! (I don't think we "lost anything in the move," but I sure found some stuff.) Not to mention this new place is twice as big with no spiral staircase, no hard tile floor and has an indoor garden atrium right smack in the middle of the house. We are very happy birds in this new nest of ours. Our cats seem to enjoy sunbathing in the stream of sunlight that pours from the huge windows on our vaulted ceilings.

Around noon our whole exceedingly pale family needs sunblock indoors (roman blinds are in the works). Here is a picture I took of Jude and I in front of a vintage stained glass window in our living room. Looks like we're outdoors, doesn't it? We might as well be.

Jude helped us unpack and decide what to keep and what to get rid of. He was really cut-throat about it, he's not a fan of clutter.

"Hmmm... Mom hasn't listened to this CD in ages... *toss*..."

And sometimes he thought it was a better idea to undo something I had just done, such as "reorganize" my shoe closet. Outside the closet.

March flew by, we stayed crazy busy with home renovations and decorating. Now that we are settled, April is the start of our new life and is already filled with playdates, a wedding, a baby shower, a 30th birthday party, two Easter egg hunts, and a new play gym membership for Jude... dare I say we actually have a busy social calender coming up?

My newest project: starting my own local Mom's Club. After searching online for something that I was excited about and coming up short, I decided to organize a group of hip chick mamas in the area to join forces against the June Cleavers of the world. I'm not a "loving every minute of it" mom, seeking same. Not that I don't love motherhood, I really do. I just don't love the messes, the tantrums, the night-wakings, the separation anxiety... in other words, I love most of it, just not all of it. But man is it difficult to find honest, fun women that aren't constantly comparing their toddler's shoe size and vocabulary. I can't pretend to have all of my ducks in a row, because they just aren't. I may have even misplaced a few ducks. I'm not wearing a Juicy Couture velour track suit and I probably forgot to pack a snack. I just want good conversation with creative people and a fun time for Jude. So, the search begins. I'm hoping to produce an intimate group of about 10 girls to kick around with once a week, and hopefully inspire each other to be honest and supportive. If only my girls from Babycenter lived next door.

Here are a few recent pictures of Jude, mostly taken in our indoor atrium. It's pristine, even lighting almost all day long... score!

So, there's this blanket.

2009-03-02T23:02:00.000-08:00

The word of the day today on Sesame Street was Persistent. "It pays to be persistent!" one of the furry monsters said, after explaining in very simple terms what the word meant. Which reminded me of a blanket. But before I move on to the ridiculous story of this blanket, I must mention how much I love Sesame Street. Jude and I watch it about twice a week and I find myself glued to this show. I've always loved the Muppets but I'm amazed at how creative, artistic and entertaining they continue to make every episode. Jude lounges on my lap with snacks and his sippy and thoroughly enjoys his program. It's the only TV show he has ever been interested in and that's fine by me. I love their attention to detail and the constant flow of refreshed creative energy. Jack Black and a hilarious spoof of 30 Rock were on today's episode. My mom said I watched Sesame Street 3 times in a row every day when I was little. That's 3 hours straight. Hmmmm, sounds like someone was letting Big Bird do a little babysitting...

So back to the blanket. I have a mild obsession with this blog (Emily, you constantly amaze & inspire me) and when I saw the pictures she'd taken of her little son with one of these blankets I immediately had to have one. I fell in love with how colorful, cozy and rustic it was...so instantly full of personality. I quickly skimmed down her post to read that they were sold at TJ Maxx stores which I was very optimistic about since those stores are like my second home (loads of my eBay boutique inventory comes from the TJ stores). I thought of at least 10 locations that I could hit in a 20 mile radius. Emily had to drive to 4 stores to find her blanket, and mentioned that they'd become the next big obsession within the photography world. She'd posted a link to a forum dedicated to a bunch of photographers desperately trying to find these blankets for themselves and each other across the country. Here is a portrait on Flickr that also helped inspired my craze: a sweet little newborn propped on the blanket. Anyway, I threw Jude in the stroller and headed out. To make an incredibly long story short, I will list the TJ Maxx-owned stores I went to before finding this one lonely, glorious, yarney chenille blanket.

TJ Maxx~ Fountain Valley, Orange, La Habra, Fullerton, Walnut, Chino, Tustin, Anaheim Hills, Anaheim, Brea.

Marshalls~ Buena Park, Huntington Beach, Tustin, La Mirada, Chino, Irvine, Laguna Hills.

Home Goods~ Walnut, Yorba Linda, Chino.

I found this one hanging all by itself, crammed in the back corner of a tiny Marshalls in Garden Grove. That made a total of 21 stores I went to (within 3 days, not all at once... there are not enough toddler snacks in the world to make that venture possible) before finding the only blanket of its kind in all of Southern California. I guess there are a lot of photographers here. Anyway, persistence does indeed pay off. I was a crazed lunatic on the hunt for my Holy Grail and when I saw it hanging there, it was lit by a single beam of light from the heavens, backed by an angel choir. It was the second happiest day of my life (the first, of course, being when I found a Luna Luna Copenhagen outfit at Nordstrom's Last Chance store in Arizona for $2.97).
You probably think I'm insane, but I prefer "passionate."

I got it home and started noticing its many imperfections, possibly why it was still unsold. It took me 3 episodes of Millionaire Matchmaker to mend the torn chenille and fully reinforce both ends of the loose yarn fringe. It's now hanging on a special blanket hanger covered in plastic. I have big plans for this blanket. It will hang in a future photo studio someday, when that dream of mine is realized. But for now it sits quietly in my closet and makes me so very happy every time I see it.

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Love Day

2009-02-16T19:49:00.000-08:00

I may be in the minority when it comes to Valentine's Day: I love it. I always have, even when I was a single girl living alone I'd bake a bunch of cupcakes, pass them around and run a super-fancy rose petal bath for myself. I'd listen to Sarah McLachlan by candlelight while dreaming of the man I'd someday marry. I've always loved love and all things romantic. My husband is a violinist and that's really all I needed to know. Well, that and his first emailed words to me which were, "You make me want to sing," based only on my profile picture and a little blurb about how incredibly electronically challenged I was. I love that man.

This Valentine's Day was beautiful. First, being the mom that I am, I searched for a themed t-shirt for my little son to wear. I finally found one on Etsy (all handmade items, like a creative version of eBay) that fit his style but happened to have a massive red heart on the front with a MOM banner across it. I won't be able to dress him in shirts that proclaim his love for me for very long, so you better believe I'm taking advantage of it while I can. I also bought an outfit that has a "Mommy" heart tattoo patch sewn onto the shoulder. What can I say, he's a hard-core fan of mine.

Rhys and I went on a real Valentine date and had dinner at Sushi Roku in Pasadena while my mom watched Jude. I'm aware that I look about 5 months preggo in the picture she took of us before we left but I assure you I am not. It's just the weird way my top bunched across Rhys' blazer. (Or it could be the chocolate kahlua cake habit I've formed, but let's just blame it on the blouse.) He brought me a gorgeous burgundy orchid plant that I'm going to do my best to keep alive. And I bought myself a little something random: a cherry blossom Moses basket from Babystyle. What? They're going out of business! I had to get it. I will have a baby girl...I will have a baby girl...

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Movie Monday

2009-02-16T13:36:00.000-08:00

I've had a few requests to start a movie review on my blog since I'm such a film fanatic. I see a Tuesday matinee by myself every week (heaven!) and we watch about 15 DVDs a month. I'd like to just have a Movie Recommendation List instead, with a very brief comment on each. Okay I guess that's technically a movie review, but I'm not going to include bad films unless they are REALLY bad and I feel the need to vent about it. There are so many mediocre movies out there, I'd be on here all day.
In my opinion these are all little gems that are worth a watch.

Last Chance Harvey~ This is such a sweet little film, it is innocent and honest and makes you feel great about the deep connections you find with the most unexpected people in your life. The speech Harvey gives during his daughter's wedding had me crying and crying... if you know me well, you'll know why.
The Reader~ This one is rich and deep, about two people who have a strange loving bond for their entire lives based on just a short amount of time they spent together when they were young. It's amazing. And it's Kate Winslet, you can't go wrong.

Iron Man~ What a shocker this one was. Yeah I know, it's old news but I have a kid, remember? There was a handful of months in which I never rented a DVD (gasp!). But this was one of those movies I loved so much that I spent another couple hours watching the second "extra features" disc. My jaw was on the floor just about the entire time. I was expecting another Transformers or Hulk, but no! This one has style, sensitivity and heart. It just so happens to also have robots.

RENTALS:

Henry Poole is Here~ A surprisingly perfect little indie film that experiments with faith and religion. It's perfect no matter which side of the God fence you find yourself on.
Vicki Cristina Barcelona~ Oh my word. This is the best road trip with your girlfriends you'll ever go on.

Rain Dancing

2009-02-07T13:05:00.000-08:00

Ah, the rain. It brings out the worms and my truest, happiest self. Jude and I have been busy doing nothing these cloudy days... splashing through puddles, making hot chocolate, picking out which knit hat to wear from an overly stuffed and ridiculously unnecessary hat rack, watching snails, pretending it'll be like this forever. Even though he doesn't look much like me I now know he is my child. This kid loves rain.

And I've finally started doing some of the things on my to-do list that I never thought I would. I've made two new recipes a week for dinner from the stack of cookbooks I'd never previously cracked open. I ordered, organized and filed the 500+ pictures of Jude I've taken since October. I even started making barrettes for myself because I can never seem to find exactly what I want in a barrette. It could be the fact that my hair is as thick as a brillo pad (and not much softer, thanks Mom!) but clips just don't stay in. Here is one I made with Swarovski crystal detailing.

I also joined Facebook after being peer pressured into it from my BBC girls (you know who you are). I was very hesitant to start another online venture, but it was immediately fun to reconnect with friends from high school and beyond. I actually started a true friendship with a guy who terrorized me during my first three years of high school (it would have been all four years but he moved away our senior year. I considered it God's graduation present.). Well I guess we terrorized each other, it was an all-out war. If anyone had told me back then that I would come to cherish Randy Heckman as a friend I would have stabbed them in the neck with my No. 2 pencil. But here we are.

So that's what I've been up to lately. Lots of bubble baths, good food, chocolate kahlua cake, rain, cozy scarves and movies by myself. My motto for this year is: I survived 2008, I'm going to enjoy 2009. So far, so good.

A few favorite images from the past few weeks:

And I will leave you with a video montage of Jude's best dance moves:

The Many Moves of Jude

Here, in my head

2008-12-13T22:35:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-09T20:13:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-09T09:00:00.000-08:00

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

2008-12-01T16:34:00.001-08:00

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.

Winter

2008-11-18T17:10:00.000-08:00

This is the cover of Anthropologie's latest catalogue. I've never wanted to be somewhere else in an instant as much as when I first saw this picture. I'm sure she's cold and it's not comfortable sitting on those broken branches, but she's where I want to be. I crave icy, crunchy weather and the sting of cold on my cheeks. I want to wear my hippie hats and scarves and drink hot cider without feeling ridiculous.

Why do I even own a coat rack?

Then I consider that single word in the corner, Wonder. At first I think of it in terms of marveling at the beauty of the pure snow. Then I'm sidetracked by another meaning that is so evident in my life: to curiously think about what comes next, wondering if some things I've longed for will ever come. Having the same questions running through my head for so long makes me wonder... Will I ever be caught up enough to feel caught up? Will I ever find myself in a house surrounded by beauty? Will my life ever calm down enough for me to feel in control of it? Will "someday" ever get here?

Salvation

2008-10-12T22:30:00.000-07:00

It turns out money can buy happiness and it comes in the form of a Canon 40D digital SLR. Meet "Black Mambo," the newest member of my family. She is dark, sleek and shoots everything in sight with no remorse. True salvation for this girl, who limped around with an old Kodak point and shoot attempting to document my firstborn's first year. I think the mother should receive a nice gift on her child's first birthday... after all, who did all the work in that situation? Sure, Jude cut a tooth here and there, grew to three times his original size, but still. I made & raised a tiny little man so I bought myself a camera to celebrate me. Now the real fun starts.

Here I am opening my, "birthday gift" which arrived at 8 pm on Jude's birthday. I. Hate. FedEx.

I took over 200 pictures in the first 24 hours of unwrapping my present. This is dangerous, I'm going to have to build a library for all of Jude's photo albums.

Beyond the Pale

2008-09-15T22:15:00.001-07:00

Dancing in the Grey

2008-09-15T21:01:00.000-07:00

Oh how I love dancing in the grey area that is Dexter. Yes, the Showtime series about the serial killer who only kills killers. I love, love this dark little show about a guy who knocks people off weekly. It is so satisfying to play around with the moral code that this particular 'bad guy' has. I want to have him over for tea and discuss the world's issues. He has a lot on his plate, he needs a cup of tea. The idea that all people carry around dark secrets, or have pieces of themselves that no one else ever sees, has always been intriguing to me.

And I miss the Ice Truck Killer, how's that for crazy? I'm also fascinated by Sylar from Heroes. He is a very bad guy. Should I be worried? No, I think it's just the glasses I like on him. I'm a sucker for guys with glasses, I married one. And mine doesn't kill people... or does he? He does come back late from the studio once in awhile. Hmmmmm.

A Clever, Artsy Dexter Season 3 Preview

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Jude's Toothbrush Holder Concert

2008-09-08T14:57:00.000-07:00

I heard a flute-like sound coming from the living room this morning. I figured Rhys was playing around with a toy recorder or something, but couldn't think of anything we had around the house that would make that high-pitched noise. I found Jude with his new musical instrument, a travel toothbrush holder. I guess he did get the musical gene after all. (You may need to pause the jukebox music to hear his little concert.)

Edited on 9/12 to add: Alright, now I'm convinced he's a child prodigy. Here he is playing a battery charger. I just put him on the waiting list for Juilliard.

My Trophy Arrived!

2008-08-29T12:41:00.000-07:00

Okay, absolutely nothing tops this. My honorary breastpumping trophy arrived via UPS today. My wonderful, sweet, way-too-far-away friend Sharon had a special trophy made just for me, honoring my 9 months of pumping (see old post "Where's My Trophy?" if you think I'm crazy. Well I am crazy, but see it if you're at all confused). It's a little golden gal wearing a sash and tiara. On the base it says "World's Best Mom! For exceptional pumping dedication." I'm going to put it on a chain and wear it as bling. It's going to be the hugest medallion anyone has ever seen. Sharon... sista... you are so incredible. I really do need to move in next door. I need you closer.

All mothers should have one of these trophies. Whether it be for "Breastfeeding a Biter," "Keeping Yourself Alive on 2 Hours of Sleep Per Day," "Working All Day and Then Coming Home to Your Second Full-Time Job," or how about simply "Birthing a Baby." This needs to be a government-funded gesture, like food stamps. Who's with me?

I'm going to go order Jude a "World Champion Nap Fighter" award.

2008-08-28T23:21:00.000-07:00

The Forest

2008-08-18T19:48:00.000-07:00

I love trees. I feel most like myself when surrounded by them, I become so small yet feel more powerful. There are so very few trees here in Southern California and they're spread out so that nothing comes close to resembling a forest. We took a quick weekend trip to Los Gatos at the end of July to celebrate Grandma Darby's birthday with her. They live 20 minutes up a windy road, thick with tall redwoods. Their home is perched atop a mountain that overlooks the most gorgeous view of a majestic forest. It is breathtaking, and very hard to leave. The crisp fresh air, the quiet hum of the wind, the soft pine smell... nothing beats it. A cup of coffee tastes better in the woods. Rhys and I have always wanted to live in a place with lots of trees and rain, but life seems to swirl around us so fast that we hardly notice we aren't where we need to be. Then, when we're stuck in heavy traffic or the LA smog is particularly thick, we are jolted back into reality. We are still not in a peaceful, blissful state. Namely Washington. We miss you, Los Gatos, and the peaceful, wonderful calm you bring. And we miss you, Grandma & Grandpa Buchele, for the very same reason.

Crack for Moms

2008-08-15T20:38:00.000-07:00

So, just when I've found myself overwhelmed with how many things are on my to-do list, Danielle casually drops Scrapblogging into my life as if it's not going to dangerously interfere. It has been called "crack for moms", and I'm an addict. I'm going to have to start attending meetings and get a sponsor. My house is surely going to suffer for this. My husband is going to be wearing dirty clothes for weeks. Honestly, that won't be much of an adjustment. But oh wow, I'm in a bit of heaven.

Where's my Trophy?

2008-07-10T16:15:00.000-07:00

Well, I'm finally done pumping. What a wild ride that was. I gave breastfeeding my best shot (who knew it was so dang hard??) and after 4 personal lactation consultants and a trip to the ER, I decided to exclusively pump for as long as I could. Jude had problems with latching, overeating, and projectile vomiting (which is a disaster when your one and only food source has just been depleted). I don't remember one thing about having a newborn that went "right" or easy... well except for the naps. Jude's naps, I didn't take any. I just stared at the wall and wondered why I ever thought mothering would be easy or fun and tried to plot my way onto a bus going nowhere.
Anyway, I exclusively pumped between 3-6 times a day for 9 straight months, and still have not received my honorary trophy. I hated pumping. Every time I had a moment to myself... it was time to pump. But, there was nothing more satisfying than putting a bag of breastmilk in the fridge after a pump session. And when I had a small stash going, I had to take a picture. I have to remember how proud that made me, to have kept at it for so long. I tried to quit a few times and just couldn't bring myself to do it, which I always thought was strange. If I hate it so much, why can't I stop? Well, my brilliant husband reminded me why: it was something I knew I had truly succeeded at. The proof was in the milk. I fought for it, worked hard at it, and made it happen. It's hard to stop the only thing you're sure you are doing well. There isn't much about motherhood that you can say "worked", you just have to do your best and hope your little guy is flourishing. But pumping worked. And I'm happy that the decision to stop wasn't exactly mine, my body just stopped making milk. So it was an easy end to a not-so-easy 9 months. I finally have my body back...well, until the next tiny creature inhabits it (read: when I'm insane enough to start this crazy process all over again).

2008-07-08T10:19:00.000-07:00

"A single event can awaken within us a stranger totally unknown to us. To be alive is to be slowly born."

~Antoine de Saint-Exupery

Dreaming in Color

2008-06-21T20:24:00.000-07:00

I've been experimenting with color saturation lately. The ridiculous thing is that I consider myself a photographer, but I'm taking pictures with a little point-and-shoot digital Kodak camera and then punching up the color in a free, very unsophisticated photo program. The only professional camera I own is my Canon A2 and it's a film camera, practically an antique now. That's how long it's been since I've taken a serious photo. I really need to get myself a digital SLR. Maybe when I win the lotto...

The Good Mom Book

2008-05-06T19:35:00.000-07:00

This book saved my life. I found it on Amazon last month by accident while searching for a different book, and bought it based on the title alone. I was convinced that mothering would come very naturally to me and was hit with a big brick wall when it didn't. Not only did it not come naturally but I was hating almost every minute of it. I suffered from post pardum depression but my dissapointment went beyond those temporary chemical and hormonal imbalances. Everyone I knew made motherhood look so easy, and talked about how wonderful it was. So when I found myself crying more than my newborn, unshowered for 4 days and up to my knees in dirty diapers I felt a little duped. My identity was slipping away rapidly as every ounce of my energy went into feeding, burping and nap scheduling. The first page of this book brought me to tears as I said a little *hallelujah* in my head. I'd finally been reunited with reality. The main theme is how the expectations we have for ourselves as mothers ruin all hope of feeling satisfied with what we have accomplished. It encourages women to reevaluate their personal expectations and realign it with what is realistic. Basically, there was no possible way I would be able to cross everything off my daily "to-do" list. Not even half of it. Now I consider myself a hero if I've made the bed and eaten lunch by 3 pm.

I started an online board titled "I Love Being a Mom, I Just Hate Doing It" on BabyCenter.com to find girls that felt the same way. It is completely inspired by this "Good Mom" book and I had an overwhelming response from women who were feeling the same burn of motherhood. I love those girls.

http://boards.babycenter.com/n/pfx/forum.aspx?tsn=1&nav=messages&webtag=bcus1181&tid=24594