Pretty Green on Both Sides of the Fence

Man alive the time, she's a flyin', and not just since my last blog post! (If I haven't already provided full disclosure on my special gift of procrastination consider this your fair warning.)  Believe me my unintentional blog avoidance is not due to a lack of material to share; On the contrary actually. We've been pretty dang busy over here for the last few weeks! Even now I'm trying to figure how I could possibly recap our mid summer extravaganzas in the amount of time and patience I have available and quite frankly I don't have enough of either right now to do it justice. Suffice to say it's been a super awesome travel, friend, pool, play date, bike/scooter, book & movie, wine & cheese, ice cream sandwich, flip-flop, bathing suit, fun in the sun filled summer that I hope to recap as opportunity allows. We're doing our part to make sure we don't lose a minute of wasted time unless it's time we enjoy wasting but somehow this summer is whizzing by me like New York traffic. Maybe it's because for the first time in a long time I don't have any little babies rendering me home bound to avoid heat stroke. Maybe it's because my little guys are *actually* getting along more than they're fighting. Maybe it's because I can count the number of hours I've spent in the past month with my first born on two hands and it feels like she'll be catapulted into the 7th grade before I've had enough time to soak her in. Maybe it's because the end of summer marks the beginning of this wild ride on the triathlon circuit and I just don't quite feel ready. Whatever the reason, I'm really having a hard time letting go!


In a past life I worked as a Recruiter and Operations Manager for a large military subcontractor that hired civilian medical personnel to work in military hospitals and clinics. Regardless of the 'extreme hours to ridiculous pay' ratio I found the challenge extremely fulfilling. I adored all the traveling, the constant interaction with people and the fast and furious pace at which it all shook out. I loved that job even though it literally sucked the life out of me. I loved that job even though it ate away at the precious and fleeting moments I had to spend with my sweet baby girl during her toddler years. I loved that job even though I fantasized about the green grass on the Stay at Home Mom's side of the fence knowing full well SAHM's were married to doctors and lawyers who made a gazillion dollars and they spent their days perusing libraries and museums with their privileged offspring. Obviously a single mom like me could never even consider that option.


After I married and welcomed my second child into the world I happily gave up the craziness of my former work life to raise my family. I was over the moon! Ecstatic! And it didn't even take a doctor/lawyer/gazillionaire to pull it off! I'm not even exaggerating a little bit when I say it took me a good three years to settle into my new role as 'just a mom and wife.' It felt a little bit like whiplash actually. I felt like I didn't know myself at all anymore. Sure I could recognize and at least partially convince myself of the significantly bigger and more important job I was doing by growing, birthing, nurturing, educating and blah blah blahing these four gorgeous creatures, but it didn't feel as big and important. I certainly wasn't setting Thames on fire. It felt a little bit like I'd been pricked with a thousand needles and all the 'me' just slowly drained out; A Shell-O-Meg left behind robotically maneuvering through June Cleavers to do list day after day. Okay, okay so maybe I've never greeted frank at the door in a pleated skirt and apron, roast in the oven and a perfectly coiffed hairdo. Hell half the time I'd barely showered and considered dinner homemade if it was heated in the oven rather than the microwave. The point is the green grass on this side of the fence was sort of itchy and took a lot of getting used to.


Even now that I've sort of recreated myself again, a comfortable little homemaker cap upon my head (a masterpiece in progress one might say) I cannot deny the stinging desire I have to keep my hands in the 'real world' so that when all of my kids finally do enter school full time I'll have something more than the bliss of domesticity to fill my suddenly quieter days. However right now my days are far from quiet and there is nary enough room to swing a cat in our schedule let alone carve out productive work time.


And here enters the ridiculous conundrum that is my life, and perhaps the life of many moms who work from home. I have the best of both worlds, yet sometimes it gets the best of me.


I absolutely L.O.V.E. my job as a Volunteer Director. I am sincerely honored to attach my name to the amazing group of human beings that come together and selflessly give their time and energy for the benefit of others. I like the challenge, the organized chaos, the satisfaction I get from watching these races come together full circle, and it's damn good fun.


I also L.O.V.E. my job as a mom. In those little instances where I witness the generous and loving spirits of my sweet babies and think about the ripple effects they'll have on the universe I swoon. To call motherhood an incredible journey is a gross understatement. But it is a serious challenge for me to tick-tock between the two roles sometimes. I'm pretty sure the heart of the problem lies in this simple fact: I'm happiest doing exactly what I'm doing at any given moment. Sort of like an object flying through space staying it's course until something changes it's direction, I love my time in 'mommy mode' until I'm bumped into 'work mode'. Then I want to hunker down and enjoy my ride as a worker bee without being bumped back into mom mode. I just happen to find the 'bump' itself *super* annoying! In reality this quasi analogy is nothing more than a nicer way of saying 'I don't want to work right now, I want to play with my kids!' and then saying 'I don't like to be interrupted and I need my kids to go to school so I can get something done around here!' Right now I'm living in the void between these two places and all this teetering is causing me a little strife.


The truth is it's been such an awesome summer. I usually get to enjoy the last few weeks with my kids preparing them for their new school year and squeezing out lots of last minute shenanigans before we all settle into a new regimented fall routine. This year our first race falls in September rather than November and I don't have the luxury of seven hours of kid free time to depend on yet. I'm patiently waiting for school to start and the annoying little 'bump' to do it's thing but finding I need more of a violent shove to get it together. Reality is a good one. With two World Championship Triathlons right around the corner it's officially time to jump in with both feet and get cozy...I'm in for the long haul this season! 

Now that it's right in front of me, I'm suddenly super excited to play in the grass on the other side of the fence again! If only these kids would get the hint and stop sucking me back into all the fun their having so I could focus!!

Stinky Cheese and Spider Monkeys

Le Tour de France has officially begun marking an exciting time in the House de Lowery! This means my usually hustling, bustling hubby parks his cute little fanny in a tall, sea grass armchair, feet resting on an ottoman, and builds his virtual office around him like a fortress so he won't miss a single moment of the action packed, 3 week televised extravaganza!


The kids, piled on his lap and hanging from his arms like little spider monkeys, soak up his knowledge and mumbled factoids about polka-dotted jerseys and French landmarks like little sponges. Watching them ooh and ahh over hairpin turns and crashes in the peloton is part of what made me fall in love with the TDF in the first place.




You see? I mean c'mon!



Well, that and the athletes razor cut calves and quads. I actually like the fact that they 'knock the bark of their trees' despite that redneck macho men bag on them for this girlish practice. Cyclists' chiseled, hairless legs are downright lickable no matter what Jeff Foxworthy might say.  The shrunken bird chests and spindly arms that apparently do great things for aerodynamics however, do absolutely nothing for me. Still, what's not to love about a perfectly sculpted lower half shoved into thin spandex shorts? Sometimes leaving things to the imagination is overrated!

Whatever the draw for each of us, gathering in the family room to cheer our favorite teams and riders through stage after stage has become somewhat of a Lowery Family Tradition and I'm a bit of a sucker for tradition.


For 98 years the TDF has winded and twisted it's way throughout France and surrounding countries attracting some of the best cyclists and teams from around the world. The New York Times has called it "arguably the most physiologically demanding of athletic events" comparing the effort to "running a marathon several days a week for nearly three weeks", while the total elevation of the climbs was compared to "climbing three Everests." It's like witnessing the ultimate test of the human spirit challenging you to believe in the impossible.


Waaaaay back in the olden days, before a white dress, a gaggle of kids, and responsibilities, Frank and I started to plan a trip to see the Tour in person.  I was beyond excited to experience the sights, sounds and tastes of France. I would wear my hair in a lose chignon and we'd sample funny smelling cheeses from corner markets, buy fresh sunflowers and stick them in our bike baskets as we wound our way down cobblestone streets. We'd run alongside Lance Armstrong, American flags whipping wildly over our heads and cheer him to what would become his 6th TDF victory. After 3 or 4 glorious day Frank would take me to a top of a bridge, get down on one knee and ask me those 4 little words in the most romantic city in the world. Of course I'd whisper yes, hand against my chest and jump into his arms while he spun me around and around under a sea of stars. Maybe even the skies would open up and warm sprinkly rain would fall around us. It would be magical.


Three weeks passed while potential itineraries and cute little B&B cottage photos flew back and forth via email. We hadn't anticipated come January that a bout of nausea and a sudden obsessive craving for spaghetti would bring us our first son; A shotgun wedding quickly replacing our dreamy French excursion.


It goes without saying that I'd take my sweet Frankie Tankie a million times over a trip to France. That boy, with his big, deep brown eyes and spattering of freckles has a vice grip on my heart. But every July when our TV's are perma tuned to Versus we reminisce about the trip that never was.


So last summer, when the "someday...maybe's" filtered their way back into our conversation, we decided that the 100th Anniversary of the Tour de France would be the perfect time finish what we'd started all those years ago. It is almost surreal to have this grand vision back in our peripheral; we've been so consumed with building a family and a business and a life that our fancy French rendezvous had taken a serious back seat. Like waaaaaaaay back. To the bumper. And somehow, the object in my mirror is closer than it appears! With only two years to go it's high time we get back to our research. I can hardly wait for it all to come full circle!


Perhaps I'll still wear the chignon, eat smelly cheese and pedal over cobblestone. Lance may be absent but something tells me nice legs and spandex laden asses won't be in short supply. And I'm pretty sure Frank and I can find some way to occupy ourselves on a rainy starlit bridge. Lord knows after 8 years and four nosy children we've mastered the art of making our own creative magic!


What you wont find in July 2013 is a living room fortress, that gaggle of nosy spider monkeys, or a plate of spaghetti within a 30 mile radius.

Hump Day Discoveries

Traditional Indian food, although a taste sensation upon entry, is the most foul tasting gaseous expulsion ever experienced. Part cat vomit, part fish milkshake, it all adds up to the worst burp flavor in the universe.

Banana burps are the bees knees. But this is no new discovery. Every one already knows they're the shizz.

Urban Dictionary is the best and most useful website I've stumbled upon since Etsy. But UD makes you sound way cooler than you actually are and it won't get you placed on 'budget restriction.'

Breakfast for dinner never gets old.

Just because your toes feel like they might rip clean off of your feet while learning to Two-Step with your husband, doesn't mean they actually will. As a matter of fact they will look surprising normal and less blueish than you'd hope for making you feel like a giant sissy girl.

It might actually cost more to learn Two-Step than it would to get your toes surgically reattached.

Everthing tastes better if you drink it from a mason jar.

Pay no mind to the scrumdiddlyumptious (already purchased) popsicles in our freezer. The Ice Cream Man's are better. It bugs me the sing-songy way in which they chug-a-lug-a-lug down our street, forcing unsuspecting neigborhood mommies into fierce negotiations with their sugar-hoarding offspring.

The Ice Cream Man is a swindling bastard.



There is a surprising difference between the effect that one shot vs two shots of Patron has on a 185lb man's personality.

'Tequilla Frank' is a giant bag of giggles, wit and general hilarium. Please consider him for entertainment at your next party.

Really. He will. I mean aside from the Tequilla of course.

National Tequilla day is July 24th.

It will be given the higest celebratory honors in the Lowery house.

A New Skeleton in my Closet

I suppose that 6 days is entirely too long to spend writing and re-writing a single blog post. That's about how long I agonized over my feeble attempts to capture a 'snapshot' of  our family in a few descriptively humorous paragraphs but alas, it's just not coming together. It feels scattered. Generic. Sublimely lame. Effin-A!


Some months ago a good friend casually told me that I'm entirely too hard on myself. Frank agreed a little quicker than necessary adding that I want things to be perfect and if my grand schemes are not going along according to my plan you can bet that I'd abandon ship. So maybe that last part is no secret. 'Unfinished Projects' is my middle name. Meg Unfinished Projects Lowery. It has a nice ring to it don't you think?


I digress.


"Really?" I squeaked out, head to one side, confused, contorted look on my face. "But I loathe perfection! I adore things that are old and worn, a little askew,  full of character building flaws."


He retorted in the way I've become accustomed to, filtering through his memories for concrete examples but coming up empty handed, yet leaving me with that itchy little feeling inside that tells me he just might be on to something. Maybe it's the way in which he leaves me hanging, like a fish on a lure, that gets me reeling. His hook digging deeper and deeper.


I do have a hankering for things to be 'just so.' Even though my 'just so' is not everyone's definition of perfect maybe it's mine?


Shit. Just when I thought I had a pretty good handle on all of my little quirks and skeletons another one is tossed onto the pile for me to sort out and pick apart.

Smug bastard.

Once upon a time in that pile I discovered this tiny tendency to over analyze situations that really have no business being analyzed at all. It clamored around in my life for many years before I finally wrapped my arms around it and and tucked it away into a tidy little corner of my mind where it patiently waits to be called upon (unless it shoves its way into a situation and takes over without my consent which does happen from time to time but not nearly to the extent that is used to.) Given this new proposition it was high time for me to unleash the scrutinizing beast of a 'personality trait' and see what developed. We'd roll it around our tongues a bit. Try it on for size. Me and my 'trait' were going to over analyze the hell out of this blasé comment.


Dunking my Earl Grey tea bag repeatedly into a ceramic mug of hot water and I sifted through my own catalog of memories. I remembered the time I tevo'd Candice Olson of Devine Design to watch her whip up rich looking monochromatic custom silky drapes flanked by a gorgeous set of velvet panels; exactly what I needed in my front room! One trip to Home Fabrics, and $200 (a steal on all accounts) of luscious gold fabric later it was on like donkey kong! After several painstaking hours of shoving material through a temperamental sewing machine I ditched my version of the velvets, but only after sewing and objecting to all four panels, and hung the silkies, unfinished on two out of three picture windows. I hated my Devine Design wannabe curtains that left me feeling defeated. Seven months later I still curse under my breath when I pull back the silkies that didn't quite measure up, untrimmed threads poking out of the seams and unsewn hems barely reaching the floor where they should have been pooling. Yes, the old Pottery Barn tab tops that once took up residence in my front room still have a presence by way of a single sun-bleached red panel in a sea of monochromatic mayhem. Mocking me. Reminding me of my middle name. Maybe I do need to cut myself some slack. For crying out loud I'd let Candice Olson bring me close to tears!


Frank and friend = 1 Little Mrs Perfect = 0


I kicked my feet up, set down my tea and intertwined my fingers letting my hands rest on my middle; the soft, warm, squishy flesh that swaddled four little miracles asking for nothing in return and the exploited target of my harshest critiques. Before I step up on this soapbox I feel a disclaimer is necessary. By no means do I consider myself a fat ass. Most days I'm pretty proud of my size 6 frame even if it does come with a muffin top. And I have rationalized with a very clear mind that if I'm ever to regain the midsection I had four 'larger than average' children ago, I'm either going to have to get a portion of it surgically removed, or train for an Ironman full time only to find that even super fit skin looks like it needs to be ironed after carrying a 9 lb beauty named Emerson; neither of which i'm willing to do. That said, I have tormented myself over the crepe paper skin and extra fluff that moved in a few years ago and kicked out the sweet ass abs that used to live there. Even after two solid years of biweekly Pilate's visits I refuse to wear a two piece. But why? Isn't it enough that my body literally created and sustained life four times over allowing my skin to grow and cocoon my blossoming middle? It's a badge of honor that I should wear with pride! I was 'fearfully and wonderfully made' for Christ sakes how can I not just be satisfied with that?


Frank and friend = 2 Judgemental Nazi Critic = 0


As I sipped my tea, I let this new notion that 'maybe I should let myself of the hook a little' settle inside of me. I thought of the countless times I'd beaten myself up for yelling too harshly at my kids over something trivial, letting dishes pile up for too long, forgetting my reusable bags again at the grocery store, and staring at packaged Mother's Day gifts that still needed to be mailed even though May had long since passed. All worthy of an eye roll and possibly a four letter word. But none worthy of feeling like a mom, domesticated diva, environmentalist or doting daughter that just can't hack it. Since my glass is usually half full, perhaps I'm taking these instances and simply vowing to do better, be better, try harder rather than mean talking myself. How else could I have overlooked this propensity until now? Yet I'm unconvinced that that changes the outcome. It still feels not good enough and I've felt that a lot lately. Like the things I'm doing aren't good enough. Like maybe I'm not good enough.


Frank and friend = 3 Girl Who Seriously Needs to Cut Herself Some Slack = 0


Feeling inspired by two people I love who also happen to care enough about me to call me out, I decided to take a vow of self acceptance. I will make a sincere and conscious effort to not let my domestic undertakings get the best of me when I've bitten off more than I can chew. Mark my words those damn curtains haven't seen the last of me yet! Same goes for the effin' blog post! I will not allow myself to feel guilty or down trodden when my laundry takes a backseat or my kids spend too much time in front of the TV so I can squeeze out one more email. More importantly, I will embrace my body, mindful of and thankful for what it's allowed me to do. Especially the muffin top. I'm going to love it even when I don't like it because it's been the best, most loyal friend to me regardless of how I've treated it.


Last week I wore a bikini to the public pool for the first time in years and you know what, it felt pretty darn good.


Frank and friend = 4 Self loving woman = Infinity times a million


I win.

Kassidy's Army: I'm a Krusader. Are you?

Without a doubt one of the hardest things about being a mother is the mix-bag of worries that you carry around with you from the moment you learn of that sweet baby's very existence. I think it's unavoidable really. I'm reminded of this Elizabeth Stone quote:

"Making the decision to have a child is momentous. It is to decide forever to have your heart go walking around outside your body.”

Boy does that little nugget speak to me. We mom's are a pretty vulnerable bunch! I love my kids fiercely. Sometimes so much it hurts. Man do I worry about all kinds of strange things on their behalf. In my defense, what mother hasn't lay in bed at night and negotiated with the Big Guy to keep her kids out of harms way? More times than I care to admit I've gotten caught up on my own worried imagination and literally pleaded with tears stinging my eyes, 'Please God, just keep my babies healthy and safe.'

No parent wants to realize their greatest fears. No parent wants to see their child suffer. No parent wants to get a call like our friends Ryan and Massiel Merritt did on May 19th, 2011. No parent wants to hear those four little words that will forever change their lives: 'Your daughter has cancer.' 

Kass (on the right) volunteering for the Silverman last year!

Kassidy Merritt is a 15 year old rock star! A straight A student, Varsity Softball player at Centennial HS and an all around great girl! Just days after her diagnosis Kassidy received 2nd year varsity letter for softball, the Scholar Athlete award, earned her white letter for lettering in 3 sports in 1 year and All State Academic because of her team having the highest GPA in the state.  

She also has an inoperable brain tumor called Ganglioglioma. The Merritt's have done a TON of research to find the best methods to treat this form of cancer, which is extremely rare due to it's location within the brain stem. They have reached out to parents who have fought this same fight with their own children and are learning from their trials and their triumphs. All roads have led them to the decision to avoid chemo and radiation because of it's debilitating side effects and low success rate for this particular type of cancer. Instead they're opting to seek treatment from the Burzynski Clinic in Houston, Texas.  Below is an excerpt from Mass' new blog, Kassidy's Road to Recovery, about coming to this decision:

This clinic was brought to my attention by Matt's [a Ganglioglioma patient] mom a few days ago and in friends and family researching we keep going back to this therapy.  Number one reason because there is no real serious side effects.  Chemo and radiation seem to be pretty debilitating and we are concerned with Kassidy's quality of life after treatment.
This clinic performs an antineoplaston therapy that uses human dna which includes natural peptides that are found in the blood and urine that can be used to control cancer growth.  The clinical trials are on Phase III of FDA approval, which is the last step before the FDA approves the drug to be prescribed by doctors.  Antineoplaston therapy supposedly triggers the death of cancer cells without inhibiting normal cell growth.  They "turn on" the tumor suppressor genes and "turn off" the oncogenes which cause cancer.

The downside of this treatment is the financial burden. It will cost $30,000 just to begin treatment plus an additional $6-8,000 each month for a year - Just for the treatment! This cost does not include additional monthly meds or room and board in Texas while they are away from home. It's a lot of money for most families, especially for a family who is sending their oldest child to college in the fall.

On June 15th they learned that Kassidy's case was accepted for the personalized treatment therapy and that the doctor wants to get her approved through the FDA for the clinical trial, antineoplaston therapy, as well. Their appointment is scheduled for June 28th, and if they can raise the $30,000 needed to begin treatment she can start 2-5 days later. Since this alternative treatment has not yet been FDA approved it is unlikely that insurance will cover any of the costs. So it's up to us - Moms, Dads, Aunts, Uncles, Sons and Daughters, anyone who would want the same for their own family - to offer the Merritt's support in Kassidy's road to recovery. 

Several fundraisers are in the works which will help ease the burden of Kassidy's ongoing treatment. If you have any fundraising ideas to share, please do so! In the meantime, the Merritt's need your help NOW! They are desperate for it. Please consider a donation to their cause. They've raised $18,000 so far and have just 8 days to come up with the additional $12,000. If my Facebook friends alone each donated $5 we'd have over $6,000 to contribute! Imagine the cost of a cup of coffee could help save a life!   

Please visit Kassidy's blog here to hear her story and to DONATE NOW! 

On behalf of the Merritts, thank you so much for considering to become one of Kassidy's Krusaders!

Saturday/Sunday Project Bandwagon

Yup. I hopped on it. Brought along the hubbs for good measure and cheap entertainment. Oh how I love a ride on the Saturday (or Sunday) Project Bandwagon! Man it feels good to knock a chunk out of the to do list. I could putz around my house for days!  

A few unsolicited tips (most of which I'm making up as I go but all of which are solid in terms of advice)that will make a ride on the SPB more fun:

Rule numero uno - Preoccupy the kiddos. Check. We invited a few neighbor kids over, fed the entire posse a couple of otter pops and ushered them off to construct forts, play house and school one another in basketball.

Numero dos - Play loud music. Check. Thanks great friend Jenn for the Pandora hook up. The Classic Rock station is seriously rad. I was ready to rock (no pun intended) like Jordans on Saturday!

Y numero tres - Keep coke (or beer) on hand. Check. Maybe it's the combo of fizz plus alcohol or fizz plus caffeine, I can't be sure, but the craving will strike! You've been warned!

Today's SPB gave way to a freshly mowed lawn, a semi-organized crap, er, craft room and several bins of neatly folded clothing to be stored and passed down the line of sibs next season.

Then came the fun part. I had a couple of DIY projects that I've been itching to dig into for awhile.

The first? A giant, framed Pottery Barn-esque chalkboard that I could hang in my kitchen to write the kids chores on. I first saw this idea in my girlfriend Tracy Usher's kitchen and I loved it. But alas, I have not found one I like anywhere in this town. Not even at Pottery Barn or the ever reliable HomeGoods! So I decided a couple of weeks ago to commission Frank and make my own framed out with leftover molding we have sitting in the corner of the garage. Right around that time our buddy Sean called us with the best news ever! He was hosting a model home furniture sale at his warehouse and said we could come by for a little peek and first dibs on anything we wanted before it opened to the public! Cha-ching! (We hit the jackpot with this sale but I'll save that for a post of it's own. It's certainly well-deserving of the spotlight!)It was at that sale that I snagged this large framed poster used in the home builders sales office. 

Of course I'd already started pulling it apart before I remembered to take the photo. Oops!

It's not only the perfect size for the chore chalkboard of my dreams but it has a beautiful mahogany wood frame and linen mat! Bonus: I got it for free!

Right next to it was this Richmond Homes sign. (Hint: This is where the second project comes along.)

Another piece I began to dismantle before taking photos...

...And got for absolutely free!

Underneath all that plastic gold lettering awaits a beautifully framed grass cloth covered bulletin board that will take up residence in aforementioned semi-clean craft room!

During SPB we snuck off to Lowe's to snag a board, primer and paint. I think we spent about $25 on materials, give or take. Once we got home I plucked the lettering off my new bulletin board with a screwdriver taking care as to not snag the grass cloth while Frank trimmed down the material for the chalkboard.

Thanks babe for your manual labor!

When Frank was finished I rolled on a few coats of primer and paint and set it out to dry overnight. 

The bulletin board was complete literally in the blink of an eye. Total time = 10 minutes. Total cost = $0.

Ready to hang!

My glorious chalkboard finito!

I'm pleased as punch with how this turned out!

Bulletin Board: Total time = 1 hour (not counting dry time). Total cost = $28

Here it lies in it's final resting place!

Another successful SPB in the books! Two great new pieces with a Pottery Barn look on a tag sale budget!

We Don't Need No Stinkin' Plan!

Yesterday morning I was on a mission. Rise and shine, coffee with the hubbs, and get the kids rolling on their chores early so we could get a good start on the day. I've been trying really hard to establish at least some semblance of a routine around here this summer which is a HUGE challenge for me. I'm not a planner by nature. Looking at a clearly organized agenda where every task has a specific time and place makes me feel really overwhelmed - even if that agenda is full of fun stuff! It totally sucks the anticipation out of a day and I prefer things to be a little more...spontaneous; A little less...over committed. 

At any rate, I've been given enough 'learning opportunities' over the years to realize that most kids thrive on a schedule whether I like it or not. They like to know what's coming. Looking at it from their perspective I can totally see how annoying it would be to happily construct a new Barbie village in your room without a care in the world only to have some bossy authoritative figure suddenly barge in on you and demand service. I get it. And I truly do believe it's reasonable for them to expect at least a rough idea as to what I've got up my sleeve for them on any given day.


But back to the morning. Down the stairs I went, armed with this knowledge, and fully prepared to layout a game plan: Nutritious breakfast, dress for swimming, a couple of quickie chores and we're off to run a few errands, swim and enjoy a picnic lunch by the pool then back home for Kellen's nap and piano lessons. It would be a full day, but a fun one (even though it was planned out to a T)


Jayden has been working at a friends office this week helping with their filing and other tasks so she could earn extra money for her upcoming Sea Camp in Catalina. Today would be her only day off until Saturday and the errands we'd planned to run were mostly for her so she'd be prepared for her BFF Julia's birthday party on Friday and would have everything she needed to begin packing for camp. In order to get my middles to swim practice on time we would need to be backing out of the driveway by 9:30 AM. Totally doable. I was already starting to feel like super-awesome-planner-mommy.

But here's the thing about planning. It's all well and good until someone doesn't go along with the plan. Frankie and Emmy got right to work collecting trash from around the house and bringing down the laundry. Miracles really do happen! But my usually willing helper Jayden had decided swapping out a load of laundry from the washer to dryer AND washing breakfast dishes was entirely too much work and her ranting and raving quickly escalated. My intention is not to hang the poor girl out to dry. Suffice to say she was WAY out of line and lost the privilege of enjoying a fun filled day with us. Instead she sat in a 6 hour meeting with Frank and various City entities scrutinizing barricade plans, reviewing permits and doing whatever it is they do in there for all those hours. Not fun.

Sometimes a good lesson is just as hard to teach as it is to learn. I really wanted to spend the day with Jay. I wanted to help her pick out sunglasses for camp and the perfect present for Jules. I wanted to share a Starbucks (me a soy Chai, her a Vanilla Bean Frapp) and chit-chat in the car on the way to the pool while the little ones happily watched Thomas the Tank Engine. Plus it would be our only day together this week for my working girl. But in this house, if you don't work, you don't play. Moreover if you throw a ginormous fit about helping you'll end up wishing you would have just sucked it up and gotten to it because not only will you be appropriately punished, but you're chores will still be waiting for you after you've served your time.

Without my sidekick for the day all those well thought out 'plans' would need to change. We'd have to carve out another time to get camp gear and a present, I'd have to leave the pool early to pick Jay up in time for piano lessons, chores wouldn't be finished,  and Frank would have some 'splaining to do at his meeting. In a nutshell, sticking to my guns was going to be an inconvenience for all of us.

I second guessed my decision all day. Maybe I was too harsh. She's not usually so defiant. Had I overreacted? I justified that this is why I don't plan in the first place because things almost never go according to plan! I was just plain annoyed by the situation in it's entirety.

Then I got a text message from Jay. It simply said, 'I'm sorry mom' and just like that, all was right in the world again.

By most standards I'm much more of a fly-by-the-seat-of-my-pants-flaky-mommy than I am the super-awesome-planner-mommy. And while I may drive my kids crazy most days toting them to and fro without much forewarning maybe there's something to be said for that element of surprise? I think I'll keep striving for structure in our day and see how it shakes out within my ping pong ballish lifestyle. Either way I'm so glad I trusted my instincts and followed through on our rules according to plan yesterday even if our list of planned todo's was thrown out of whack; It's a plan that we've spent a lot of time formulating and sharing with our kids and as it turns out, it's a plan that I might actually be good at sticking to! 

Frankapalooza: The 'Old Guys Rule' Tour

We've had a few well earned recovery days since Frankapalooza and hells bells was it ever a rip roarin' good time! We celebrated at the lovely Loews Hotel at Lake Las Vegas. I absolutely love that little oasis in the desert. As soon as I turn my car onto their main road I feel like I'm on vacation in a remote, luxurious village. It is downright heavenly!

Loews Hotel Main Entrance

A view from the bridge

Our business allows us to work with Loews quite frequently. Frank in particular has become pretty good chums with some of their staff and they definitely take to spoiling us a little bit when we visit. They usually leave us little surprises in our rooms upon check-in. Fruit and nut plates, cheese selections sometimes even a couple of beers. This time chocolate covered strawberries and four fruit kabobs with chocolate drizzle for the kids awaited us on the desk of one of the rooms. I just love these guys! The Suite was not quite ready for us so we quickly changed into our suits and hit the pool.

Frankie the fish

Emmy looking contemplative. What did come first? The chicken, or the egg?

Three of my favorite ladies, Alaina, Katy and Jenn joined us with their kiddos and we took advantage of a gorgeous afternoon. A couple of Mango Mojitos and Shirley Temples later we were growing hungry and decided to head upstairs for some pasta salad, mac-n-cheese and PB&J's. When we finally made it up to the Presidential Suite we found it decked out in black balloons, curly ribbon and crepe paper. Man these guys really went all out this time! There was a sad looking bouquet on the credenza wrapped in a big black bow. The flowers were limp and the vase bone dry. It took us awhile to realize that the dead flowers were all a part of the master plan to deck the halls with old fart paraphernalia. Clever little devils they are!

We spent Friday evening at the hotel and woke early to prepare for the big day. Frank's sister, Beve, was in town and I was so thankful to have her there! It was on her 'Bucket List' this year to spend the day with each of her siblings on their birthdays. I love this idea by the way! And I think its important to mention that there are nine of them in the family so this is no small feat! In typical Lowery fashion she was extremely helpful and quickly became my right hand gal running errands, making CD's for our guests, charming our kids and filling our bellies.

Number 7 and number 2 of 9.

As the party drew nearer we kicked it into high gear and made our way to the pool. Similar to visiting eight siblings in one year, preparing four kids for a day at the pool is no walk in the park. A U-haul perhaps would have made things easier as well as six more arms capable of applying sunscreen, keeping a toddler away from the pool edge and chasing water toys down the hotel hallway.  Look at all the gear just one little pumpkin wears!

We rented a few cabanas and beefed them up with some of Emmy's carnival birthday party decorations. What 40 year old man doesn't love a little tulle garland and primary colored balloons to spruce up his party? Thanks to Alex, our BBE (Best Babysitter Ever) and the kids we had quality signage hanging in the cabanas too! Aren't we classy? Truthfully I made ZERO decorations for this party (even though it's sort of my 'thing') because our surroundings were visually satisfying on their own and didn't need my intervention. But the cabanas had to stand out in the event that guests were arriving while we were out paddling on the lake! Don't you think this just screams "40 year old males birthday party?"

Given that Frank is such an active, outdoor enthusiast I really wanted Frankapalooza to be a little adventurous. So we suckered our guests into trying one of our new favorite hobbies and, with the help of Kathy from Paddle to the Core, gave Stand Up Paddle boarding lessons. I'm pretty sure that everyone who tried it loved it; Even when the wind picked up and a few found themselves swimming with the fish! By the way if you're in the market for a $400 pair of prescription Oakley sunglasses our buddy Bob lost his at the bottom of the lake. I guess that means they're up for grabs! :)

Best shot of the day! Look at 'em go!

Smoking Frank as usual! (Actually he put my in my place once we hit the wind.)

Emmy and I just about to head out!

Our kids loved being in the 'driver's seat!'

When we weren't on the lake, all the Frankapalooza roadies were scattered around the pool deck swimming, sunning, chatting, water sliding, and enjoying drinks from the pool bar. Should you ever venture out this-a-way, the Mango Mojito I mentioned earlier is to die for. Un-be-lievable! Of course the pro roadies already knew that from the day before. Sometimes it pays to do a little research!

Paul takes relaxation to a whole new level!

My baby girl and I digging our toes in the sand

Frank double fisting: Beer and presents

The afternoon flew by and before I was ready it was time to transfer the party upstairs to the Presidential Suite. Without the promise of amazing food (and free beer) it would have been really hard to rally the troops and pull everyone away from the pool. It was such a gorgeous day to be outside.

But with one whiff of the 9th floor and I knew I had them reeled in hook, line and sinker. The Macaroni and Cheese bar was an absolute hit! Picture an adult twist on a childhood classic: Four cheese penne pasta bubbling in a dutch oven and dished out into martini glasses. What made it fun was the add ins: sauteed shitake mushrooms, roasted red peppers, fresh cut scallions, crispy bacon, roasted tomatoes (my fave) and shredded parmesan. Super fun presentation, super easy to recreate. I'm totally stealing this concept and using it sometime in the future. We also had Crispy Chicken and Bacon Sliders with Waffle buns (yes, they were just as ridiculously tasty as they sound), little Hamburger Sliders and Ceasar Salad. I don't think there was an empty stomach in the house.

That, my friends, is sin on a platter

The birthday boy carb loading

Loews graciously offered the Club Lounge just across the hall from the Suite which we used to serve food. It's a great little space with gorgeous views that allowed for plenty of additional seating. About an hour into the evening the air went out in the Lounge but was on full blast in the Suite, where the beer was, to keep the cakes from melting. We all experienced our own versions of menopausal hot flashes walking between the two to fill our plates or quench our thirst. Thanks to the Mechanic who pushed and pulled a few strings and switches to save the day! If only it were that easy for our menopausal friends!

Diana and Rex belly up to the Macaroni bar

Frank received a ginormous bottle of Jack from a buddy and it was mysteriously tanked by nights end. Wonders never cease...

You can run, bike and swim...but you can't hide from 40!

Layers Bakery created this amazing cake with a measly "Things Frank Likes" list I emailed over a few days before. I couldn't believe how well they pulled the Frankapalooza party theme, hiking, poker, triathlon, soccer and Irish pride together so cohesively! More importantly it tasted even better than it looked! One Chocolate/Chocolate Mousse, one Vanilla/Strawberries-n-Creme Mousse and one Vanilla/Cookies-n-Creme Mousse. Ridiculous.

Music was going, drinks were flowing, the crowd was growing and Frank was blowing...CANDLES!

I'm sure Martha Stewart would cringe at my lack of party etiquette, however I decided not to inquire as to WWMD (What Would Martha Do?) and I sent out Evites against her better judgement. I'm so glad I did! Each invitee was asked to name their favorite top 40 song in the last 40 years and from that we now have a seriously sweet music mix! It was a collaborative effort between Beve and I to burn this playlist onto a two disk CD set, Sean Mahoney of Mahoney Galloway Design to whip up a sweet Frankapalooza cover and Katy Mason, from whom we stole the idea to give as gifts to our guests in the first place. Howdayalikethemapples Martha?!

Frankapalooza: Old Guys Rule Tour 2011

I'm so thankful for our trusty BBE's Alex and Taylor for spending a full 24 hours with us and allowing our kiddos to celebrate Frankapalooza too! It was such a blessing to know they were in loving, capable hands and we could really relax and enjoy the festivities without keeping our eyes glued to their little bodies. We love our BBE's. They were superb even when our extreme extrovert, Kellen, inexplicably wanted nothing to do with anyone but mom, dad and Tuesday Date Night sitter Rex, whom he affectionately calls 'Suck.'

How cute are these girls?!

A highlight was walking into the Master where they were hanging out after the kiddos went to sleep and catching them in the act of recreating Britney Spears' 'Hit My Baby One More Time' music video! Like any mature couple faced with this situation would do Frank and I acted swiftly; I dog piled the girls to join in on the sing along and Frank farted loudly in the background and wafted it in their general direction. Yep. That's what it's like to babysit for the Lowery's. If only I had their faces on camera when we waltzed through that door! Oh wait, I do! You're gonna love it! Click here to see it!


I'm very appreciative to my great friend Katy for coordinating the super fun menu, picking up and delivering the cake, and taking my countless phone calls to help me turn a million ideas into a doozy of a party. You, my friend, are a bright spot in my life and I'm so grateful for our friendship! Plus you have amazing taste in clothing! It's comical how often we end up doing this:

Black shirt. Check. White linen pants. Check. Super cute shoes. Check. We got the memo.

MAJOR props to our photographer and friend Jayne Furman for capturing the entire event on camera! Jayne is creative, dependable, hilarious and a fantastic sports photographer. I knew she'd snag tons of awesome candids throughout the day. It was the best investment I made into Frankapalooza hands down! Here are a few more faves of the day:

I so dig this girl!

Looks like T-R-O-U-B-L-E to me!

A gaggle of Lowerys

40 looks pretty darn good on my guy eh?

Several of our friends made arrangements to stay at the hotel and we all gathered for breakfast at Rick's Cafe the next morning.  Few things top a steamy cup of joe and fresh squeezed OJ on a shady patio after a night like we had! Plus our BBE Alex was still with us entertaining our lovely offspring so we could chat with our pals. (Doesn't she look so happy to be there?!) They are so fun to marvel at when I'm not in charge! With our bellies full Frank and I snuck off to the spa for a couples massage during which we promptly fell asleep. At one point I snorted so loud I woke myself up in a fright. I think Frank was snoring too. I'm sure we just charmed the pants off the two little Asian gals in our company. Good thing we tip well!

As it is with all good things, Frakapalooza had come to an end. I cannot imagine a single thing that could have made the day better except to add in the friends who couldn't make it.  For those of you that did make it, thank you for being a part of the celebration!