The weather again?

I'm not sure why it is that I'm always commenting on the weather. I'm like a bad case of small talk. But I can't resist the urge to tell the world—all four of you—how giddy I am today. I. Love. This. Weather. We've accumulated more than 14 inches of snow! It's amazing and beautiful. Jeremy and I broke out the snowshoes this morning to get to the coffee shop. It's a good day. I feel like I haven't been having many of those lately, so this one is much welcomed. Hot cocoa, anyone?

Back In My Favorite Office

I'm enjoying a relaxing morning working in my "other" office—The Laughing Goat coffeehouse in Boulder. I've spent a couple of long days scouting, interviewing and meeting with clients.

Thursday I had a beautiful drive out to Copper Mountain to visit a new home development called Slopeside at Copper. It's a collection of 13 homes designed by a master of material melding, David Nassar. The homes consist of stunning finishes of gargantuan wooden beams, steelwork that is artwork in its own right, and hefty natural stonework throughout. It was a treat to meet David and his wife, Tracy, and tour the awe-inspiring retreats.

I had dinner with the publisher and editor of Denver Life magazine, Shawn and Kristin Miller. They have big plans for their publication, and our meeting was productive and inspiring. I am thrilled to be working with such a dynamic duo.

This afternoon I head home—happy to see my family again, but sad to leave my home. If that makes sense.

Thinking outloud.

Preface: The beginning of this post is just rambling. There is no point, and it doesn't make much sense. I'm just thinking.

Every writer knows the agonizing and sometimes terrifying process that goes into creating a body of work that doesn't suck. Sometimes that's all the higher I can set the bar. I want to strive for creative, witty perfection all of the time, but after so many beat-downs (self-inflicted), simply not sucking sounds pretty damn good. This is the struggle of a writer and we all know it.

Lately, however, I am struggling with another kind of block in my creative process. I process copy in my head while I am doing other things—like biking or driving—and then when I come up with something brilliant (har-har) it is lost because I can't remember it later when it's convenient to write it down. My friend Cindy comes up will all kinds of fabulous ideas (sometimes for books) while she is walking her dog, and she remembers them. She also has a strange knack for finding money. So even if she forgets her brilliant best seller idea, she'll still strike it rich with her found cash.

End of the rambling.

I'm having a Web site built finally. I'm pretty excited about it. I've seen a few of the logo concepts so far and they are looking really good. I can't wait to have a functional and attractive place for editors to see my work.

I'm getting ready to head to Colorado this week for more scouting, and to work on my first feature for Denver Life magazine. I'm pretty excited about that. It is a piece on owning a second home in a ski town. I'll be visiting the builder and designer of a new home in Copper Mountain. I'm sure it will be stunning, and I can't wait to see it. I'll post some photos when I return.

Here I go, crossing my fingers I don't hit a snow storm like they had last week!

Have I ever mentioned that I hate rain?

Well, my dear friend Kelly knows how much I hate it. Every time it rains I probably email her no less that 20 times to tell her how much I hate it. Well, today she gets a reprieve. Today I don't hate the rain. It's chilly and dreary, and my class was canceled today because the instructor got sick from getting a flu shot—don't even get me started on the flu shot. Anyway, I'm now cruising into four days of freedom. Not freedom in the sense that I have nothing to do and can read and nap all day. But freedom in the sense that I can focus—uninterrupted—on the work I need to do. And with weather like this, there's nothing to do but concentrate on work. That is like a vacation to me. Who needs sun and sand, right?

On loving the weather....

I feel a bit weird about wanting to leave Des Moines considering the beautiful weather we've been having. I spent the first half of the summer in Colorado and expected to come back to hideous heat, but it was mildly warm when I came back. Then I geared up for the inevitable heat that historically comes with the Iowa State Fair. It never came. I'm always surprised when it's not 95 degrees with 80-percent humidity.

Now we are experiencing an extended autumn. It's starting early, anyway. I hope it hangs around for awhile. I love the crisp morning air and the slowly scattering leaves. But like many others, this turn of seasons always makes my thoughts turn to the holidays. For the past few years my husband and I have been working really hard to get our kids to understand the concept of true gift-giving in the spirit of giving something from the heart because you've made it especially for the person, or because the item really spoke to you as something meaningful to the person it's intended for. Even more difficult than that, we've been trying to get grandparents and other family to cut back on their giving of "stuff" to our kids just for the sake of having lots of presents. We believe that experiences and time spent together are so much more worthwhile than toys and trinkets that ultimately end up at the back of the closet of stuffed between books on the bookshelf.

In that vein, my mother-in-law gave my kids the gift of a vacation with her to Florida to swim with dolphins. They were so happy to spend the time with her, and it will always be one of their most cherished memories. I couldn't be happier for them. As we continue our quest to live with less stuff and more experiences in our life, I hope we can keep up our end of the bargain by offering those we love the opportunities to experience more meaning in their lives. And as my thoughts turn to the holidays, I'm considering picking up a tradition I gave up a couple of years ago—hosting a large Christmas party for all of our family and friends. I think it will do our hearts some good to share the laughter and friendship we've been missing since I canceled the nine-year tradition. It's a huge undertaking, but I'm giving it some thought.

We'll see how this fabulous fall weather treats me.

Close Encounter

Of the bear kind.

So, after two whirlwind days of scouting, I peeled out of Denver around 4:30pm for Boulder. I was craving a good hike. What I got was WAY more than I bargained for.

Heading up the trail I was bewildered to learn that acclimation—or something resembling it that I had after five weeks here—is not something you get and then just pull it out whenever you need it. How quickly it goes away. I huffed and puffed, although I must say not as much as I did at the beginning of summer when I first hiked that trail.

So, as I lumped along I saw a couple coming down the trail, and the woman was pregnant. I scolded myself more for likely struggling more than this woman with a basketball for a belly. The couple stopped me to tell me they had just seen a bear about 100 yards up the trail coming down out of a tree. I was giddy. But they were heading down, and I was alone. I couldn't decide what to do. I wanted to see it so badly, but I was scared to death. Just then another hiker came along. She and I decided to forge ahead making noise, but hoping to get a glimpse of it.

Well, it was only a close encounter, not an actual encounter. So, we never saw the bear (damn it!), but we did get to know each other a little bit, and it turns out that she and her male companion are big into off-road motorcycle riding. What a coincidence. I think we'll stay in touch and maybe get to do some riding together one day.

Now, I'm back in my Boulder "office." The Laughing Goat coffeehouse. Love it here.

Summer? What summer?

It happens every single year. And every single year I know it's going to happen. I make attempts to not let it happen, but before I know it...it's happened again. Summer has faded as quickly at the "touch of sun" body lotion I used once in May. Wasn't that just last week or so?

The Iowa State Fair—the greatest state fair—marks the end of summer, usually with a 10-day streak of unbearable temperatures and humidity that makes your sweat sweat. Ugh. This year, however, hasn't been so bad, which makes the prospect of heading back to a classroom even more daunting for my kids.

The end of summer means I am in a rush to finish all of the things on my summer to-do list. (Oh, me and my lists. Sigh.) I'm feverishly checking things off, but the list doesn't seem to be getting any shorter. I am determined to make great strides in the next five days, then I'm off to class and nothing will get done again until December.

Truth be told, the end of summer is the least of my problems right now. I am having Colorado withdrawal—Crested Butte in particular—and it's making me cry all of the time. It started the other morning at the coffee shop. My husband said, "If we were sitting outside Camp 4 Coffee right now, we'd be staring at mountains, and we'd be able to see our breath, and we'd have to wear a fleece 'cause the temperature would only be in the 40s." I immediately got goosebumps. Now I can't shake it. CB is everywhere. Tuesday we took the girls to the fair and in the yard we parked in (yes, yard—long story if you're not from around here) there was a truck with a fake CO license plate that said "Secret Stash" on it which is a restaurant in CB. Yesterday I parked next to a car with a CB sticker on the rear window. Aaaahhh!!! I can't get it out of my head. Crested Butte is haunting me. When I think about it, I get a lump in my throat and something in my chest is making it very hard to breathe. Must. Go. Soon.

What a Difference a Bike Path Can Make

It's truly remarkable to me what having a bike path right outside my back door has done for me. You can call me lazy if you like because of my apathy for getting in the car and driving somewhere to hop on my bike and go for a spin. And you might say I'm just making excuses when I tell you I have precious little time as it is, and if I have to invest time in "getting there" to get some decent exercise, I'm out. It just doesn't work for my lifestyle, and I've taken a long time to accept this fact.

But after being in Colorado—where incidentally there are some 850 (yes, eight hundred and fifty) miles of paved and dirt bike trails in Denver alone—I have not missed a day riding my bike in three weeks. And on most of those days I've gone more than once and taken a walk in the evening.

Now, I know there are those of you cynics out there (Justin) who say I can do this at home, too. And yes, I can. But there is a monumental difference in walking the city streets from my house—and don't even get me started on the fate of bicyclists in our fair city/state—and riding along a paved trail with the creek rushing by, a deer peering out through the brush and bunnies scurrying out of my way. Oh, and then there are the mountains....

Working Really Hard...

OK, not all of the time. Today I hiked up to the Flatirons in Boulder. This is a really poor representation of how amazing it is to get up there and look down on the city.

When I set out, I wasn't sure the weather was going to hold, but it did. It was overcast and cool—perfect for hiking. Once I made my way down, the rain moved in so I headed to the Laughing Goat coffee shop on Pearl. Here I sit relishing good coffee, good music and reading.

This is the life.

Place

There's something about place. It can be an exceptionally powerful thing.

Why I love the Internet

So, there is something taking place right this moment as I type that makes me love the Internet on so many levels. Let me back up for a minute....

Back in March of 1995, I was living with my dear friend Holly in Boulder, Colorado. We listened to music non-stop in that house. I miss music these days. I'm not sure how it came to pass that I don't have background music on all day, every day like the good ol' days, but I don't. Anyway, back to Boulder. So MTV's Spring Break show is blaring from the living room. I was in maybe my bedroom, I don't remember for sure, but I heard this voice unlike any voice I'd heard before. I had to go to the telly to see who it was. There was this dorky looking little skinny guy doing this goofy little dance, and my life hasn't been the same since. I fell deeply, madly in love with Dave Matthews and I love him just as much today as I did then.

So, the reason I love the Internet? Because I am watching a Dave concert live from the Beacon Theatre in New York on hulu.com. And I can blog about it while I'm watching that goofy little foot thing he does. And I'm feeling a bit twitterpated.

The thing that occupied my time

So, I mentioned my reasoning for my prolonged absence over the past couple of months—a huge project. I worked as creative director for THINK magazine. It was an amazing learning experience, and I can't thank my art director Annie Fuhrman enough. The magazine turned out beautiful despite many harried days wondering if we'd succeed.

The challenges of having not worked on a magazine in the design capacity were incredible, but it made the finished project all the sweeter. I feel more confident in marketing my creative skills from having completed this project.

Please visit www.thinkdsm.com to see the fabulous Web site created from scratch by the online staff. Within a matter of just weeks the Web whiz kids had the site up, running and chock full of content.

Heading West

In just a couple of short weeks, I will be going to Colorado for a somewhat undetermined amount of time to work. I will be writing, scouting houses and meeting with new clients. I want to take on about 3 or 4 new regular writing clients over the course of the summer. I've also applied for a full-time job or two, and I'm constantly looking.

The great thing about Colorado is I feel a strong connection to place there and a strong connection to myself. I'm looking forward to doing some great writing and planning the year ahead. Oh, and great biking and hiking.

Happy summer!

Lists, lists, lovely lists

In my "Who I am" section to the right, you'll see that I am a self-proclaimed list maker. It's time to talk about it.

I love lists. Mainly to-do lists because the power of marking something off the list makes me nearly drunk with satisfaction. Sometimes I write things on the list after I've done them just for the sake of marking it off. I've asked around and the consensus is: that is not cheating. It's good for my soul.

I like other lists, too. I have a list of things my youngest daughter, Hanna, has done in her life that are sort of outlandishly imaginative or sneaky or downright frightening like the time she bought a toy from a classmate at school for $25. No, I have no idea why she had $25 at school. She's a little sneak. I think I may start a blog one day about her. And I have just the list I need to do it.

I have a list of projects that need to be completed on my house so I can sell it and move to Colorado. I have a list of story pitches I would love to query if I had like 5 minutes to do it. I have a list of design projects I want to do for a portfolio should I ever pursue a design career. I have a list of business contacts to make in Colorado. I have a list of quick, low-calorie snacks to grab in a hurry.

The April 2005 edition of Real Simple had an article in it about 12 women who make lists. I tore it out to keep forever. And I was able to find it just now when I wanted to. I once saw another article that I did not tear out, but wish I would have. I can't remember what the piece was about, but the people had their walls painted with chalkboard paint and there were lists everywhere on their walls. I could beat myself up for not keeping that one. It's like porn for a list girl.

Because people are nagging me...

I know I need to blog, but I've been exceptionally busy the last few months with a big project. I will post more on that later. For now, I will share with you a list of things about me as a writer. Here goes:

I like the sound of my voice on paper better than coming out of my mouth.

I have a hard time imagining myself doing one thing for the rest of my life.

I went back to school less for myself and more to make my kids proud of me. And to show them how bad it sucks if you don’t go to college when you’re a normal age!

Sometimes I eat McDonalds because it’s so damn good, but I’m always really embarrassed by it and hope no one sees me there. (OK, this has nothing to do with me as a journalist, but it feels really good to confess.)

I check my email obsessively.

Sometimes I struggle with interviews because I am a crier, and if the story is remotely sad (or any of several other emotions) I tear up. It’s so embarrassing.

I can’t type.

I can’t spell.

I’ve had a magazine obsession for years, but I only subscribe to two publications. Read: I waste A LOT of money at the newsstand.

The best piece of advice I’ve gotten and the hardest to follow is: You have to confidently call yourself a writer.

I am a procrastinator.

My lead has to be polished before I can go on. It makes me crazy sometimes.

During the summer I like to sit on my front porch, drink slush and write.

I enjoy design more than writing, I think. But I don’t know how to design. I just know how to create them in my head. Then get frustrated because my computer won’t just make them for me.

Someday I want to write about giving birth to my oldest daughter who came really close to dying in the process.

I keep a list of catchy titles in the event that just the right stories will come along one day to go with them.

My favorite magazine at the moment is Real Simple. I love the clean design and the feel of the paper.

I’ve had a story in my head for four years that I need to write. It’s about cotton.

What would this look like.....

if it were a real Web site? I've been playing with some ideas—pretty much just in my head—of what my site will look like when I have it built. My friend Kelly has one underway that is nice. It's a lot of work to get all the clips together. Maybe that's why I keep putting it off and blaming it on not having someone to build the site for me.

I'm giving myself about two months to get it finished. So, anyone know somebody that can build a site and design my logo? I've got a job for them.

All Of My Posts....

sound so negative. I'm really not a negative person. I guess I write about negative things as a way of working them out in my head. I will make a point of writing about positive things, too.

If I ever have one. Ha! Just kidding.

Every Day Is A Struggle

I spend more time wondering whether or not the path I have chosen is the right one, or if I am gambling with the lives of the people I love for no good reason. What kind of mother chooses to go to school and work while her children are in elementary and middle schools? Why didn't I do this a long time ago—when I was supposed to?

I've tried to convince myself that it's a good thing because I am setting a good example. I am disciplined and work very hard. I'm getting my education, which I expect them to do, but hope they see the benefits to doing it before they have children.

Then something happened. Actually, it happened about last October, but I thought we had it taken care of, until now. My third-grader is not doing well in school. At conferences last fall, the teacher told us Hanna talks too much in class, and it's keeping her from getting her work finished. So, we did what any self-respecting parents would do. We gave her a stern talking-to until she was on the brink of tears, then giggled about it after she went to bed. We really thought that would do it. Hanna has always been my child who knows where the line is with mom. She gets really, really close to it a lot, sometimes even puts a toe over it. But the minute she gets the stink-eye, she knows she's hit the wall, and she backs off. (Polar opposite of her big sister, Haley, who pushes and pushes and pushes until I think my eyes will bleed.)

The mood struck last night to check the school district portal for parents to keep track of the kid's grades and such. I haven't looked at it since...I don't know...last fall. I know, I know. I'm a bad parent. I should be on top of this stuff. Anyway, I looked mainly to see how Haley is holding up. Then I clicked on Hanna's—half expecting to find nothing there because her teacher is a first-timer and always seems a little too harried to be on top of that stuff.

As fate would have it, she is on top of it, but my little angel is not. She hasn't been turning in homework assignments. Probably because she hasn't been doing homework assignments. It would seem that when I ask her if she has homework, and she tells me she doesn't—she's lying. Hmmmm...weird. (Anyone who knows Hanna is thinking I'm an idiot right now because it's a well-known fact that Hanna is an avid stretcher of the truth. And I mean AVID.)

Her lying about it is a problem for sure, but the bigger problem, I think, is that I haven't been paying enough attention to figure it out. I'm so busy with work and school, I have let my daughter crash and burn. I've put my kids on autopilot, but I forgot to check whether or not they actually have autopilot. They don't.

I feel like a real asshole of a parent right now. I'm super looking forward to meeting with the teacher tomorrow at the ungodly hour of 7:30am. The teacher who certainly thinks I am an asshole of a parent who doesn't have the time to make sure my kid is doing her work and oh, I don't know, learning something.

How do I balance school, work, keeping my kids on track, not making my husband hate me and still manage to breathe every so often? Oh, and they want me to cook sometimes, too. Geez.

You know you're a geek when...

You buy yourself a really special present, and it's a new Merriam-Webster's Eleventh Edition Collegiate Dictionary.

How do you spell....?

So, we've been heralding (and criticizing) Barack Obama in the media for how long now? Since at the very least February of 2007 when he officially announced he would run for the presidency. He's made zillions of headlines around the world, not just in our little corner. But still his name comes up as a spelling error on gmail chat and Microsoft Word. Why is that? I'm pretty sure I'm spelling it right. Right?

On Self-Esteem

I am at a loss today to know how we lose it. I'm sure at some point all girls naturally think they are good at something—probably even many things. But somehow unbeknownst to us at the time it slips away. There is no warning. There's no, "Sorry, you're over your self-esteem limit." And there's certainly no one there to warn you that you are in danger of losing it. You are just puttering along in your life and then one day you realize that you are afraid to try new things. You're afraid of people thinking you are not good enough—at everything. You're afraid that not only do people think it, but that they are right.

How does this happen? And more importantly, how does it happen to a girl who is only 10?

My daughter is a rock climber. Maybe I've mentioned it before. I think she is so good at it. I'm amazed at her strength and that she can climb so high and not be scared. I'm amazed that she goes to the gym twice a week to train and finishes all red-faced and disheveled from a truly strenuous workout. And she keeps doing it. Week in and week out.

Today she and my husband are in Ann Arbor, Michigan, at the regional competition. The top five climbers in her age group advance to the national competition next month. I have received two text messages from her today.

Text #1 after the first round: Hi mom. I just turned in my score card. I waz horrible.

Text #2 after the final round: I was horrible again. I made 1 route for finals. I'm going to lose no doubt about it.

How? Why? What? I do not understand how she gets so down on herself. She gives up before she starts. She compares herself to one of her climbing friends continually. This year they are in different age groups so I thought she wouldn't do it as much. She still does. And she gets so negative about her ability.

I don't know how to make her feel better. I don't know how to instill in her that all she needs to do is her best so she feels good about it. And if she isn't happy with the result, she needs to push herself harder to get better. She wants to be better, but she lacks that kind of competitive drive to push a little harder. Instead, she just beats herself up for not being as good as her friend.

I don't want to be a "little league parent" screaming at her to win. That's so not what it's about. I want her to feel good about her performance. And if she doesn't, I want her to understand she has two options: be satisfied with it, or push herself to get to the place where she is happy with it. I want her to not compare herself to the next girl. I want her to be able to observe that girl and take away something positive, not use her as a launch pad of criticism toward herself.

I just have no idea how to make her understand these things. And I cannot for the life of me understand why she does this. She's too bright, too talented, too intelligent and too wonderful to suffer like this. And I don't want to see her carry this burden the rest of her life. There are too many things we women beat ourselves up over. She doesn't need to start this early.

What spells relief for you?

Being able to breathe again spells relief for me. Today I am relieved.

That's all.

Check out the "renaming" post on Maggie's blog.

It's ridiculous. Not Maggie's blog—the subject matter. Maggie rocks.

Impending Doom

I'm feeling the noose begin to tighten as I anticipate the beginning of the semester—next Tuesday. I struggled so much last fall to keep my sanity and accomplish all that was expected of me. I feel like I failed miserably on all fronts. My grades were not up to the standard I have set for myself. I didn't cook a meal for my family for four months. I missed a couple of freelance deadlines by a day, which makes me crazy.

And my daughter told me that she was getting used to her life sucking because I never have time to do anything for or with her. Ouch. That one hit hard. She felt bad for saying it afterward, but it wasn't her fault. I knew it was true. Otherwise it wouldn't have hurt so much.

The problem I face now is how to get through the next four months—and then another two after that—without losing both my sanity and my family. My husband keeps telling me it's only a little bit longer and it will all be over. (Only 178 days to go.) I know he's right. I will survive. My kids might even come through only needing a few years of psychotherapy to recover from mommy neglect. But right now the pressure is immense, and sometimes I can't breathe.

Sigh.

Happy New Year...

It's easy to put off this blogging thing. It doesn't pay well. It's not required.

No. One. Reads. It.

Why should I do it?

Well, because I need to entertain myself somehow, right? I love to write. I love to think about writing. I love the IDEA of writing. I just get so caught up in the daily bind that I rarely get to it unless I'm under deadline. It's really quite sad. I'm always busy writing for school or to meet a deadline. I seldom get the chance to write in order to meet goals I have for myself. Goals I would like to accomplish someday. Goals that feel a long way off int he distance right now.

I'm sure you're thinking, It's the new year—make a resolution to start anew. Well, thanks, but no thanks. I don't do the resolution thing. I used to, but no more. Every year like clockwork, there I'd be making list after list of all the great things I planned to do. The "New Year" has such power over us—I know it's not just me. There was this one year when I was going to the gym regularly enough to notice the new year rush. The locker room would be overrun—not an open locker in sight. Classes would be so full I would have to cardio kickbox with my butt against the back wall. (And you thought watching me cardio kickbox was funny enough.) And parking was a nightmare. So, like I was saying, I used to scrawl hopes, dreams and empty promises in notebooks for days thinking about all this brand new year would hold. Then about three weeks later I would realize that I had all but completely abandoned my shiny, new resolve for the same ol', same ol'. Ah, well. Such is the life of a new year's resolution.

So, instead of making a resolution or 27, I'm just looking toward the future and thinking about what my life will hold. I'm making contacts and building my resumé. I'm planning how I will make the transition from school to the working world after I graduate this year. I'm planning to blog. To write. To finish house projects. To clean out closets. To...oh, cripes. I'm making resolutions, aren't I?

I'm making resolutions.