what i’m reading today:

“The Face on Your Plate” by Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson

“Just Kids” by Patti Smith

“The Christian Mama’s Guide to Having a Baby” by Erin MacPherson (I’m reviewing this for her and I’ll be giving away a copy to a reader next week!)

“Unbearable Lightness” by Portia de Rossi (it’s actually really good, so don’t hate)

“Consider the Lobster” by David Foster Wallace

“Why I’m Like This” by Cynthia Kaplan

this is what happens when i go to powell’s in portland. i buy 34543 books and bring them home (okay, i had to ship a lot of them home), where they go into the bookcase and wait until i get to them. these are the ones i’m reading now, and it changes weekly because i’m bored easily. i start a book, start another one and like it better. so then the first book sits on the coffee table for months until i finish the good read and move on to the one i didn’t finish. it’s a complicated process, really. anywho, these are my suggestions for you. all are equally awesome.

what i’m listening to:

avett brothers….and more avett brothers
old sublime (i watched lords of dogtown and it made me want to listen to sublime)
city and colour
florence + the machine
joshua radin
the postal service (love them)
rockabye baby (ezra LOVES THESE)

much better and more in depth post to come later. this was just a post i’ve been wanting to do for a while. and if you want to leave me what YOU have been reading and listening to, i’d love to pick your brains. and the next post will introduce my new idea for the blog. stay tuned, lovelies.

i think i talk pretty normally. i love how jess from irocksowhat did hers. she’s so cute, and awesome, and i lurve her and her awesome blog. so many blog ladies i love, i need to give you my list of must-reads. there are SO MANY great bloggers out there right now, especially those considered “mom blogs”. which are so much more than just stupid ramblings of spit-up covered, uninspired, unintelligent housewives. anyway, i’m linking up to busy mom’s blog. do an accent vlog. it was kinda fun.

How do you like my picture? Im a librarian from 1981 named Eleanor. I played with this app on my iPhone last night for too long to admit. I was on Instagram, as usual, and we were posting pictures back and forth; I literally peed myself at some of my friends’ pics. It was good fun.

Have you guys seen that show, Portlandia? On IFC Friday nights? It’s HI-larious, and I’m not just saying that because I’m in love with Portland. Fred Armisen from SNL is one of the leads, and the girl he stars with I’ve never seen before, but it’s pure comedic gold, I tell ya.

So we are still planning on moving to Portland. When? That’s a big question mark. There are a number of things that have to transpire before we pack up our scary Larry camper-van and drive off into the sunset. One of those things was the selling of the river property. See, Adam acquired a piece of property on the Myakka River here in Venice when he was much younger, and we used to have plans to build on that property. It was Adam’s dream to have a house and animals out on the river, which sounded like such a great idea, especially with boys to raise. Do you know how much it costs to safely build on a piece of land that floods several times a year? It’s ri-DONK-ulous, not to mention the insane price of insurance and the taxes each year. Add those up, and we would’ve had to be crazy wealthy, which we’re not. So when we realized that the river property was a no-go, and we fell head over heels in love with Stumptown, up for sale the Myakka property went. It was sad, because Adam had dreams entrenched in that little piece of land. And those dreams were kinda crushed once that for sale sign was hammered into the ground. But in order to leave, we needed to have a cushion; oh, and we HAD TO pay off our debt. In our minds, debt looms over you like a shadowy figure that scares you in the middle of a restful night’s sleep. We hate debt, and usually don’t carry balances on any of our accounts. Hence the reason the sale of the property was imperative.

Well, we sold the river property. Woo hoo!!!

Check that off the list, move our game piece one step closer to my beautiful new home. We can now pay off our bills, AND have a nice chunk of change to get us started in Oregon. We close on March 31st. So we may actually be moving by the original estimated move month of December. This gets me ridiculously excited, but Adam still needs a JOB. Ouch. With the job market in utter shambles, that’s not looking so great. But I have faith, and if we’re meant to go, he will find employment. Or, he’ll find that opening an office in Portland is doable. Something or someone will lead us to our destination, I’m sure of it. But what if, and this sucks to admit, Portland isn’t where we are supposed to go? What if that’s not what’s in the cards for our family? And I know from experience that could most definitely be the case. I am having a REALLY difficult time coming to terms with the fact that our new home may NOT be Portland. This is a hard pill to swallow, and in fact, it’s a hard pill to even look at in the bottle.

There are other wonderful places to live in our beautiful country, and I’ve been to many of them. My heart was just set on Portland. Whenever I have my heart SET on something, it’s usually not what ends up happening. In fact, what ends up occurring is usually the polar opposite of what my heart desired. But when that does happen? Where I end up is always better than what I THOUGHT was the best laid plans.

Just gotta go with the flow, see where the river takes me. And keep praying, always keep praying. Oh, and buy lots of fun stuff on Etsy in the meantime. And glittery TOMS….oh yes, they’re on their way. Eleanor the librarian will be rocking some gold TOMS in a few days. Win.

that little man in the picture, my henry russell, is going to be five in may. five. that means i’m old. i have a birthday in may, too. i’m going to be thirty. dirty thirty. i’ve always been of the mind that age is just a number; then i started seeing my twenties fly away with the wind, and i started to freak out a little bit. i still feel like i’m a kid. i don’t feel anywhere NEAR close to thirty years old. i mean, i know that thirty isn’t really OLD. but i feel like thirty means no more funny business. no more just flying by the seat of my pants. for example, we need to seriously start saving money. no joke, we need to have a retirement fund because there is no guarantee that social security will exist when we’re sixty-five. another thing i’ve never thought about until now? my skin. i’ve always just used whatever soap is in the shower to wash my face. now, we use dr. bronner’s, which is completely organic and not too bad, as far as soap goes. but i’ve never had a facial care regimen, and i’m afraid i’m going to regret this now. like on may 22, my face is going to deteriorate into wrinkles and crow’s feet and i’ll look like an old smoker at a casino. all because i didn’t get fancy schmancy facial care products from nordstrom’s. yet another irrational fear is my fear of being completely and utterly inappropriately dressed for thirty. i know i’m not going to look like i’m shopping in the juniors section, but i don’t really think that people realize when they’re dressing too young (at least i like to think they have no clue). what if i look like a jerk and no one tells me?

and don’t even get me started on how much harder it’s been to lose weight….

so i ordered this infant sling attachment for my chariot stroller, and i’m planning on starting my running regimen again this week. well, my walking/jogging regimen, because i know if i tried to run right now, i’d break my ankle and be winded by the end of the block. oh, and i’d have some serious chafing going on. just being honest, folks. i’m straight up chunky. but i will lose this weight. i didn’t even put on that much with ezra, but i was carrying some extra poundage before i got pregnant. i’m also really going to drop the hammer on my family’s eating habits this week. we’re going back to our mostly vegan diet, and i’m going to TRY and cook every night. as i finish writing that sentence, i know what a huge FAIL i’m going to be in accomplishing that. i hate cooking, but i need to learn to love it. a hot meal when he gets home? i owe my husband that much.

i also desperately need a haircut because the last time i got one, it was JULY 2010. that’s a true statement. i really WISH i could rock the long hair, short bangs style. but i’m too fat to look cute with that ‘do. in my dreams, i rock some killer warby parker glasses, have hair like miss james, and buy all my clothes from vintage stores (acutally, i would totally take her life on a platter and LOVE every second of it; i mean, she’s GORGEOUS and her kids are cooler than any adult i know). but since i can’t live that life, i’ll have to settle on the killer warby parker glasses and whatever vintage i can fit my fat ass into. oh, and a cute haircut that suits my fat face. i know, i know, enough with the fat talk. i will lost this weight. but for now, it’s annoying that i can’t look the way i want.

wow. i thought this post was going to be about henry. so back to henry. we’ve decided to homeschool henry. i know some people think i’m crazy, and that’s okay. remember, i live in venice, florida: “heaven’s waiting room” is it’s nickname. liberal “hippie-dippy” stuff like babywearing and cosleeping and homeschooling and composting and cloth diapering? yeah, that’s all stuff that those crazy liberals do. i am one of them, so you can see how i might be the odd man out. don’t get me wrong, i have friends that are totally supportive and kindred souls, but we’re in the minority. hence my overwhelming desire to get to portland as soon as we can. i have a post about that adventure tomorrow. but i digress. homeschooling henry was never a question, and since our move to portland won’t be before school starts in august of this year, he’ll be going to miller academy of venice. and papa and i didn’t decide this without asking the pupil himself; henry wants to be homeschooled. he asks every single time we pass a playground at a school, “but my school is at home, right mom?” hey, he may hate it once we start, and he may long for the playground and circle time. i guess we’ll cross that bridge once we come to it. all i know is henry tolerated preschool for two weeks, and then i saw a marked difference in my child that i wasn’t too happy with. and he wasn’t happy, so that’s why we pulled the plug. i guess i could’ve given another school a chance, but i don’t feel in my heart that our child is meant to go to school in the traditional sense. i truly believe homeschooling henry is what’s best for him…right now. it may change, and i’m okay with that.

and ezra is doing fabulously. he sleeps in our big, king-sized family bed (we got the tempurpedic. it rules my face). i wear him during the day, and we play with big brother outside, and we nap together in the afternoons. ezra is a nursing champ; after our stint with the nipple shield, he’s become as proficient a nurser as henry was. i love our cloth diapers, but i’m having some serious issues with leakage. if anyone has any suggestions, i’m so down for whatever you’ve got. self-deprecating humor aside, i really love my life right now. i don’t think i’ve been this content in a long time, extra poundage and all. even though we’re not living where we want to be living and i don’t feel my best physically, i’m so filled with love and happiness, for my family is growing and thriving. i have to be honest, i can’t wait to have more. when ezra is one, we’ll start trying again. now, a lot more people are going to think i’m totally nuts. oh well, i’m a crazy liberal hippie.

is anyone still here? probably not. i think i’m gonna go cut my own bangs now. i’m sure you’ll hear all about it in my next post. or you’ll see a picture of it on instagram tomorrow.

Ezra Atticus is finally here

Originally uploaded by amelie522

So I should’ve written a birth story by now, and I obviously haven’t. To be very honest, the birth of our Ezra did not go as I wanted it to. In fact, it was the furthest thing from what I desired it to be. I’d love to tell you the birth story that I wish we could’ve had, one where I was at home with my husband and Ezra arrived peacefully and was never taken from me. But that’s not what happened. Like, at all. So suffice it to say, he got here unharmed and he’s doing great. I’ll tell you details once I’m further away from the experience, once I can truly explain all the twists and turns it took with compassion and love and not anger and resentment. He’s here and healthy, and that truly is what matters, right?

I’m really loving being a mom to two kids. It’s difficult at times, but I’m not finding it such a chaotic change, all in all. Maybe it’s because Henry is four and therefore a bit more self-sufficient than, say, a two-year-old. I’ve found myself wishing we wouldn’t have waited so long though. Henry loves Ezra, but he’s more interested in other things and not really that enamored with the baby. I didn’t expect him to be obsessed with the kid or anything, but I think age really does determine the level of connection between siblings. At least in the beginning, it does. I think we’ll start trying a lot sooner for number three. Yes, I’m already thinking about number three. I want oodles of babies, so we’ve got to get going on this family! I’m not trying to compete with the Duggar family or anything, but we do want more than the average.

I’ve definitely had to find creative ways to get things done around the house. Oh wait, I haven’t gotten anything done around the house! Moving on. Actually, the baby does not like to be put down, and he won’t sleep anywhere but on me or right next to me. So if he’s sleeping, and I have to, say, drop a deuce….he’s coming along. Yes, I babywear on the toilet. It’s worked out quite well, to be honest with you. Hey, I babywear doing everything else so why not this? Henry is already in the bathroom most of the time, so might as well let the other kid in, too! I literally have no shame.

So this is my short post to let you know I’m still writing on this blog. I am making a promise to myself to write AT LEAST a few times a week. I need to do it for me, because I enjoy it, and what do I get to do for me anymore? Exactly, nothing. So I hope you’ll stick around and keep checking in here. You never know, I may someday show photographic proof of our bathroom parties.

Today, the seventeenth of December, is my wedding anniversary. On our wedding day, we danced our first dance to the Ben Folds song, “The Luckiest”. The words to that song explain so beautifully and eloquently my feelings about my husband. If you’ve never heard that song before, you’re missing out on something quite lovely and goose bump-inducing. Not that the feelings and emotions that I have wrapped up in my husband can be so simply produced by some singer that doesn’t know either of us, but the song itself oozes true love and commitment.

So this is a letter to my husband, the man that I love. The man that I love more than anything else, more than there are words to describe, with a love that transcends time and space and entity.

To my husband, my A.R., my soul mate and best friend-

I can’t believe it’s been four years already. It’s gone by so fast, my love. It still feels like we’re newlyweds, just falling in love. I mean, we have this amazing and wonderful comfort with one another that only comes with time, but it still feels new and fresh and exciting. My heart still jumps when I hear the truck pull up. I still get silly-little-girl-giddy when you walk in the front door with your tie on, and I still get excited to kiss your lips after a long day without you. I love it when you come home and put your sweatpants on, because you look so sexy with them on. I think you look amazing in everything you wear, and I am more attracted to you now than I was at the beginning. I’m attracted to you physically because, well, hello? You’re incredibly handsome.

But more than that, you’re this amazing father, this incredibly involved, hands-on, do-it-all dad. My mom still says she’s never seen a father like you, that does what you do, that loves so openly like you do. You are not afraid to pick up our Henry, hug him hard, and tell him you love him so much. Nothing scares you. You’re the voice of reason when I’m unreasonable and irrational. You have this insane ability to calm me down, where anyone else would only piss me off even more. Everything you say to me is like a balm, soothing to my soul.

You’re one hell of a husband, too. You still call me during the day just to say that you love me, and you still hug and kiss me like you mean it. You take on the things I hate, like laundry. And you never yell or get angry, and we never fight but talk about our disagreements. You let me buy things that I really don’t need, but that I really want. You know everything about me, and you love me anyway. I’m the lucky one, my sweet love. I’m lucky that I get to have you, and that you asked me to marry you that night in Miami. You let me sleep in on Saturdays while you take the boy for breakfast and fun. Everything you do is for us, your family, and we are beyond blessed to have you as our head of household.

Thank you, papa. Thank you for making me understand what real love is, what a real father is, what a real man is. You’ve made me a better human being, a more patient and loving person. You made me a mother, my favorite job in the world next to being your wife. I’m so proud to be your wife, so proud to carry your last name. There is nothing in this life that could take me away from you; I will love you this intensely for all times, until I’m old and gray and losing my mind. And even then, I’ll still love you, even if I don’t remember who you are and I’m in one of those places that we visit so often to get a will signed. Every single time we go to a nursing home or assisted living facility, I hold your hand a little tighter because I know that if I was ever in one of those places, alone, without you, I’d die pretty quickly. It’s like our wedding song: the old man dies, and his wife stays around for a couple of days and then passes away. That’s us. Symbiotic.

I love you today and everyday. But on our anniversary, I want you to know that I will always love you with the intensity and passion that I did at the beginning, but even more so now because I know you better than I know myself. My love for you grows exponentially with every day I get to be in your presence. Because to me, every single moment I get to be with you is like the first time you told me you loved me. It is that exciting and amazing and mind-blowing. I’m so blessed and lucky to have you, my sweet husband, my A.R. And I hope it will forever be this way, you and I, for all time.

Love you, daddy-
Tricia Lee Miller