Winter Wonderland

The next day after the snow fall…. beautiful, quiet hushed morning.  And a very excited puppy dog.

The world is so magical after a snow fall.  (Or at least it feels that way when you only get 2 or 3 a year!)

White Christmas

We actually had a White Christmas here in North Carolina!  I couldn’t believe it when I looked out the window to see snow falling in the mid afternoon… and then it just kept snowing and snowing.  Around dusk, I packed up my camera and Buddy and drove over to Old Salem to shoot some photos of the lovely snow with the Christmas decorations up.  It was quiet and hushed outside, but through windows I could see families gathering, fireplaces light up and Christmas trees winking.  A perfect Christmas evening.

Don We Now Our Totally Awesome Tacky Apparel

Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la…

(Yes I did sing that out loud to make sure I got the right amount of la’s.)

This was our 3rd year hosting our Tacky Christmas Sweater party and each year our friends keep upping the ante with more creative and tackier costumes.  There’s something about celebrating with your closest friends all looking goofier than the next that brings out the merry, merry in everyone.

This year’s oh so stylish looks included: a fu man chu….

an Uncle Eddie get up complete with a homemade dickie and Jamie rocking a turtleneck that I think she went back to 1994 to borrow…

guys proudly sporting vests with festive Christmas kittens, homemade sweaters, and blinking bow ties and reindeer antlers…

a candy cane cane….

… homemade sweaters (Anne getting the award for most time invested in creating her outfit), and of course, our guest of honor, 3 week old Ethan sporting his adorable reindeer outfit. 

My friend Jenny even made the trip all the way from Raleigh to rock out in her Christmas duds and be festive with us.

Matt and I had a great time hosting, and were so thankful that so many of our friends were able to coordinate their residency schedules to have the night off. 

Here’s all the ladies sporting their fabulous apparel.  Sometimes I worry that in another 20 years, we won’t be wearing this outfits ironically. 

And huuuuuge special thanks to Jamie, who took all these pictures and allowed me to borrow them.  Because here’s the only picture that was on my camera the day after the party:

In my defense, the Swedish Fish were pretty important to the success of the party.

Merry Christmas, friends!  Hope your season is merry and bright, and hopefully just a tad silly too.

The Most Wonderful Time

I just love walking through my house seeing little touches of Christmas.  Whenever my house is decorated for the season, I wish it looked like this all year round…. but then it wouldn’t be as special, would it?

Snow Place Like Home

We had our first snow fall of the year!  It started Saturday night, and the snow actually stuck around Sunday to make it really feel like a winter wonderland. 

You’d think after 18 years of living in upstate New York, snow wouldn’t really phase me anymore but since we only get it a real snow fall maybe three times a year here, it’s always pretty exciting.  When you don’t have snow all the time, the few times it shows up you still get that magical, hushed world feeling like a little kid as opposed to the grown up version of snow which is just being annoyed at how winter weather makes traffic bad, cars salty and hems of jeans permanently ruined.  I drove around Sunday running some errands and felt a teensy bit homesick seeing the snow covered trees and thinking about not going up to Rochester this year or Utah for New Years and getting my real snow fix. 

Saturday night we put a big dent in our Christmas decorating, which of course includes testing all of last year’s lights to see if they work.  Buddy is good at that.  I just love the way our house looks at Christmas time.  There’s nothing like the glow of twinkly lights and the fireplace flickering.  I remember sitting on the couch one night last year during our big snowfall and looking around at my glowing, warm home and having it really sink in that this is our home.  When you’re in your 20s, it feels like you move every single year.  I haven’t had the same address for more than 18 months since leaving Guilford Way on August 21st, 2000.  It hit me last year, in my Christmasy home, that we bought this house and it’s ours.  Provided the job hunting gods are good to Dr. C next year and no other unforeseen circumstances arise, I can go ahead and order the large roll of return address labels.  That’s a good feeling.  After all, there’s no place like home for the holidays and we’re fortunate enough to be about to spend our second Christmas in our home.  With this little guy.  Merry Christmas to us.

Giving Thanks

When I was little, I really wasn’t that big a fan of Thanksgiving.  Probably because it couldn’t hold a candle to that other holiday that comes 4 weeks later that just so happens to involve a whole lot of PRESENTS, and while I’m a big fan of mashed potatoes I could really care less about turkey, stuffing and cranberry sauce.  I know, I was a regular Thanksgiving Scrooge.  The older I get though, the more I appreciate that Thanksgiving is one of the few times a year that is really sacred for families.   I don’t know many people who have entire extended families sharing zip codes anymore, so having that time reserved for family get togethers is more important than ever and I’m pleased that despite the busy, work-work-work culture we live in, most businesses continue to give people the time off to gather together with their loved ones.  Of course, we have the added challenge of the emergency room residency schedule that doesn’t always allow for traditional time off!  For instance, this year Matt was working 5:30pm-5:30am the entire week of Thanksgiving, with a day off on Saturday and a 24 hour shift on Sunday.  Needless to say, when he wasn’t working, he was sleeping.  Both of our families have been really awesome about working around our crazy schedule, whether it’s meant celebrating our holidays on days other than the actual holiday-day or making the trip to come see us when we don’t have enough time off to get there. 

This year my parents drove down to Charlotte, where we celebrated Thanksgiving at Katie and Dylan’s home.  I have to confess that Katie and my mom did pretty much all the cooking, while I took full advantage of a lazy day off and read, napped, walked my doggy around Katie’s cute uptown neighborhood, and chatted with my fam.  (Don’t be fooled by that picture of Katie sleeping – that’s after hours of food prep!)  I did contribute a pecan pie, so I wasn’t a total culinary mooch.  Our meal was delicious, and I was super sad to have to leave my family Thursday night but given that either route home from Charlotte involves passing a mall I decided it was in my best interest not to wait until Friday to make the drive.

On Friday, my hubby slept off another night shift and I used the free day off to get caught up on some housework and projects.  Saturday my family came up to Winston, and Matt, Dylan and my Dad spent a chilly day on the golf course while I recruited Mom, Katie and Michael to help me lug Tupperware tubs of Christmas decor out of the attic.  Lucky them.  After the boys got back, the children embarked on a secret mission to obtain my parent’s Christmas present (not telling) and then we reconvened at Riverburch for a yummy, wine-y, happy family dinner together.  It was hard to say good-bye to my fam after what felt like an incredibly short weekend, but I’m thankful to know that they’ll be in just a few weeks for Christmas and that we’ll also get to spend some time with Matt’s family in a few weeks too. 

And with that, the holiday season has kicked into high gear!  Somehow I think that 4 weeks away other holiday is going to be here before I know it.  Happy Thanksgiving, ya’ll!

Oh, Play Me Some Mountain Music

I always thought I was a beach girl until Matt started taking me to the mountains. Now it seems my loyalties are divided. Sun and surf, versus leaves and crisp air… how’s a girl to choose? (Fortunately, one of the best things about living in NC is that I don’t have to – 4 hours to the beach, an hour and a half to the mountains. Road trip central.)

We had a bunch of friends come up with us to the mountain house this weekend – Jason, Minez, Jamie and Zac and Jacob and Akanksha. Friday night, Jamie and I threw together a feast for the masses including the most amazing marinated chicken – a recipe I stole from the Arnolds after they debuted it at their tailgate – followed by delicious handcrafted mojitos by Jacob. We passed the evening circled up playing Kings around the huge circular table made by Pa with its trademark lazy susan. Bet Pa never foresaw that as being one its many uses! (Hi Nanta + Pa!) (They don’t really have internet access, do they?)

Saturday, after brunch cooked by my hubby, we headed off to one of our favorite spots – a tucked away riverbed with ginormous boulders that gradually ascends to a small waterfall and a flat creekbed. Perfect for picnics… or maybe just sitting and pondering life if you had, sayyy, just eaten 2 lbs of Neese’s country sausage and couldn’t fathom the idea of eating again for eons. The hike isn’t too strenuous, but the boulders provide challenges the whole way – sometimes forcing you to jump, leap, grab someone’s hand, crawl or even pull-up. (When it came time to do a pull up on a rock, us smart females found another path up the side of the creek bed.)

After the hike, the girls attempted a shopping trip to the outlets – although in what was probably an act of intervention from the wallet gods – we were so worn out from the hike, that by the time we got to the 3rd store, we were lazily picking up clothes and going "ehh… don’t feel like trying it on." We rejoined the boys, who had been watching college football (Yea USC!) and headed out to Canyons, a local favorite for dinner.

Canyons is known for it’s amazing sunset views (which did not disappoint – see below) and, on fairly regular occasions, a good live music venue. Tonight we were treated to the musical styling of the winner of Irish Idol, who was apparently kicking off his American tour in the high country.

Isn’t it weird how people with accents when they talk have almost no trace of accent when they sing? That has always boggled my mind.

Anyways, as it was, our group simply was a little too worn out, and a little not drunk enough to appreciate the musical styling of this fine gent… we were all feeling a bit more Simon than Paula. We left a few songs in, got ice cream and shuffled home early.

We wrapped up Sunday with a leisurely walk around Bass Lake, and packed up the house – probably for the season. Every time we’re up there, Matt and I swear we’re going to go up more often but weekends seem to fill up as quickly as they show up. It’s hard to get away from it all when you keep scheduling it all! I think it was a much needed and well timed break for all of us – everyone getting a little burnt out on work and routines (or starting a new one on Monday, yay Akanksha!) but the "break" of the holidays still feeling far enough away. I know for me it came at a good time, and there’s few things that restore my soul more than sitting around a table (or crawling up a rock ledge, as the case may be) with people I love.

This Little Light of Mine

Last night I gave a talk at a community center for a small group of people – a support group called RAPP (Relatives Acting as Parents Program.)  I had been asked to give the talk a few months ago, back when I was working at my other job and had readily agreed.  All week long I’d been dragging my feet on prepping for it, and was really just not feeling it.  It’d been a hectic week, and I was mentally drained from work and the last thing I wanted to do was put on my happy face and my high heels and talk.

However, as soon as my PowerPoint flashed up I felt it – the little butterflies I get in my stomach whenever I start talking about something I’m passionate about.  In this case, I was giving a talk I’ve given a few other times – about how people who are caretakers often neglect themselves.  It’s a talk I gave about a year ago at the NC Association of Volunteer Coordinators  – that time I was in a ballroom with 50 people behind a podium with a microphone and oh, man I was digging giving that talk.  I was on fire.  But, I felt the same thing last night though – even though I was in a community center with an aluminum table, my PowerPoint flashed on a cement wall with maybe a dozen people, expectantly looking at me. 

When I first started working in wellness, I was really in touch (as my life coach self would say) with the reason why I wanted to do this.  It’s a complex bundle of my past experiences – my own struggle with my weight and eating through high school and college, mixed with the experience of becoming suddenly aware of how easy it is to take health for granted when I was diagnosed with colitis – that provide the kindling for my passion for wellness.  I know that for me, if I’m not healthy, I’m not anything else.  I’m not a good wife, I’m not a good sister, a good friend, a good doggy-momma, a good person when I don’t feel well.  Being healthy, for me, gets the junk out of the way so that I can be my best self. 

There’s a quote – cleanliness is next to Godliness – and whenever I hear that, I think “no, scratch that… healthiness is next to Godliness.” Being clean is lovely, but being healthy – feeling your best, feeling unlimited by your physical state – is so powerful.  I really feel that being healthy allows you to be your best self and to fulfill whatever purpose it is that you’ve been called to. 

Teaching people about wellness feels like something bigger than myself – it feels like I’m giving people a tool to get closer to being their best self, and ultimately, to find their own purpose.  I know that sounds a little lofty, but on the days that I’m “feeling” it, I know it’s because I’m doing something greater than myself.  I consider my understanding of motivation of behavior, my complete lack of competitive nature (which allows me to be a good coach, slowly easing people along to their goals), and my ability to innately hear things that people don’t say out loud to be gifts that I’ve been blessed with.  There’s some days I don’t want to do my job.  Honestly, it’s hard.  It’s hard and it’s exhausting sometimes, to encourage and lift up people who are entrenched in unhealthy patterns.  But every now and then, I get one of those blessed moments when I realize it’s not about me – doing this job is not something I chose to do, it’s something I was chosen to do.

I didn’t feel like going to that talk last night, but sometimes it’s the things that you don’t feel like doing that you need to do.  I left feeling reconnected to my work and grateful that I have a purpose I feel passionate about.

Happiest of Hours

Mozelle’s. 6:30.  Wine.

The text came at noon and I spent the rest of the afternoon in anticipation. 

I was there 20 minutes early, but luckily Anne was there already – as was an opened bottle of Pinot Noir.

Once our crowd grew bigger than the small tables indoor would hold, we switched to outside tables.  I already love Mozelle’s for their delicious incredible seasonal yummy food, I love them for their 1/2 price wine Mondays and $4 glass Thursdays, but I fell even deeper in love on Monday for the snuggly bright green fleece blankets on each chair outside. 

Southern hospitality?  You doin’ it right, Mozelle’s.

These are my happy hours: delicious food (Anne and I shared a fried goat cheese salad, and the table shared artichoke dip), great wine (thanks to Sonoma, I now appreciate why people always say red wine is for cooler weather… it just is) and most important, some of my most favorite people ever crowded around a table, talking and laughing. 

Everyday Life 2.0

Life is starting to settle into a routine again (ahh, sweet sweet consistency)… just in time for the weekends to get busy with tailgates, trip to the mountains and soon enough, holiday preparations.  Last week Matt had to work 12 hour shifts (night ones too) so we’ve been high fiving on the front steps as he comes home and I take off, and having about an hour together after work – sometimes long enough for dinner, sometimes not. 

There’s one person who’s been quite happy about this – the Budster.  After spending 8 hours asleep with me, he gets a walk and a bowl of breakfast  and then he’s back in bed for another 8 hours with Matt. 

After a busy Friday and Saturday – pizza/movie/vino with my friend Lauren, a 5k in the morning with Heather and her boyfriend, and rushing around getting ready for and going to the tailgate – I crashed hard on Sunday.  I’d been feeling hints of tired all weekend, and then I think I got dehydrated on Saturday (running followed by Gulp-size diet coke followed by tailgate beer… not so brilliant.)  Every time I tried to go vertical on Sunday, my head protested vehemently.

As delightful as spending another 8 hours in bed was to the Buddy, it was frustrating to me.  Didn’t my body know I had dishes to clean?!  There was remnants of artichoke dip plastered on every pot I owned.  Laundry to fold!  Floors to be swiffered!  And then there were blogs to be written and papers to be filed – I still haven’t put away 4 years worth of an office that I brought home from WFU and dumped in my guest room.  My blessed hubby has not taken up my dad’s strategy of dealing with annoying piles of crap – that is to say, I have not found my stuff dumped in the outside garbage can.

Yet.

After I roiled around for a few hours being mad at the world that the ONE DAY where I had nothing on my agenda, I couldn’t even stay upright, I finally accepted the situation and took a nap.

A five hour nap.

I know, poor me, right?

(Before I fell asleep, I desperately Googled "emergency housecleaning service" thinking MAYBE just maybe if I could find someone to clean my house while I slept MAYBE just maybe I would feel less guilty about sleeping.  It’s not as my house is usually eat off the floor clean, and I’m super particular about it, but it was a bomb, y’all.)

So I slept.  I slept, I slept and I slept and I woke up intermittedly to text my mom or answer a phone call from Matt and would test my upright powers.

"Can I stand up yet with no headache? Nope.  Okay, back to bed."

Finally around six, I felt functional and was able to clean up the kitchen, do a few loads of laundry and blog.  (Priorities… the floor can get swiffered lately, I had to blog, yall.)  Matt came home a few hours later with dinner/lunch and a big ol’ Gatorade for me. 

Of course, after sleeping most of the day awake I was wide awake at what should have been bedtime, so of course, I fretted about that and how I would already be starting the week with a sleep deficit if I couldn’t fall asleep soon.

Go with the flow is not really my specialty – are you picking up on that?

I finally feel like I’m starting to find into a routine with my work schedule, which is most excellent as this week somehow became jam packed with extracurriculars.  I haven’t felt "ready" so to speak to take on the extras the first couple weeks, and I still feel a little bit overwhelmed, but I’m getting there.  I mean, if ever there was a week to take! on! the! world! it would be right after a 5 hour nap, right?

Does everyone take so long to adjust to new routines as I do?  In college, I often felt like by the time I got a hang of my schedule – it’d practically be midterms.  I guess the problem isn’t so much that I take awhile to adjust to a new routine, it’s that I berate myself for *not* having adjusted yet.  As if, somehow in my 28 years of routine-loving-living, one day I might wake up and find oh hey! I rock at flying by the seat of my pants now!  Wouldn’t it be a whole lot easier if I just accepted that this is who I am, and anything new makes me wonky for at least a good six weeks?

Acceptance.  A novel idea.  Something that a life coach might encourage people to do?  Weird.