little black journal

Admittedly, I wallowed a bit on Friday.  But sometimes I need to be down before I can be up again, so my grief wasn’t all for naught – after a bout of heartache, I eventually climb out of my hole and more genuinely appreciate life’s little blessings.  And this weekend was full of these glimmers of goodness…

Like my beautiful latte at Vivace on Saturday morning, sipped over a particularly good book club meeting with the ladies.

And my perfect, moist frosting-topped cupcake, a super-thoughtful little gift from Erica.

My new gray wedges and black heels, cause sometimes shoe shopping really is the best medicine.

Sunday morning brunch with Shane at our favorite cozy Irish pub, complete with Mimosas (for Shane), hot coffee (for me), and thick, crispy bacon (for us).

The satisfying feeling of tiredness that came after a run along Lake Washington.

And then spending the rest of the afternoon in my pajamas, drinking tea and painting and listening to the lastest Coldplay album.

I’m also so thankful for the people in my life that pull me out of that hole when I find I’m too tired to climb out of it myself – the kind comments and text messages and hugs and cupcakes are like new shoes for my soul – merci, friends.

In the course of my schooling and career, I bet I’ve taken hundreds of tests. Nine months ago I took a new kind of test – one of the easiest ones I’ve ever taken, but also one of the most significant. I saw those two little pink lines and I lost my breath. I got all light-headed and tingly and my mind struggled to keep up as I sat on the bed next to Shane and said, “I think I’m pregnant”. We had wanted this for awhile, but somehow it still came as such a surprise. That morning was a euphoric blur of trying to take it all in and still keep our cool – we snapped a few goofy pictures in front of the mirror with that little stick of proof held out in front of us, we said a prayer thanking God for this miracle, and then we went about our day as normal. Except it wasn’t normal – I spent the morning secretly Googling due date calculators and early pregnancy symptoms and things I should and shouldn’t eat. I walked around the office with a sly smile on my face and looked at my pregnant coworker with newfound feelings of camaraderie and sisterhood. I marked February 17th on my calendar as the little one’s due date. I thought about shouting out our news over the office intercom, but I restrained myself – I wanted this to be Shane’s and my special secret for now, just in case. But just in case what? What could go wrong? We were prepared for this. We were healthy, young, ready to be a mom and dad.

Two weeks later, it went wrong.

I started seeing signs that things weren’t quite right, and after a visit to the doctor and several follow-up calls with the nurses, my dreams broke into a thousand little pieces and the pregnancy was declared over.  Where there was once fullness and joy, there was now sorrow and grief.  Deep, sobbing, soul-shaking grief.  Over the previous two weeks, we had already become so attached to the little one, nicknaming it “Poppyseed” once we’d read that an embryo at that stage is the size of one of those little black specks. I had started imagining the ways we’d transform our extra bedroom into a nursery, I was wandering into the baby section of department stores, and I would fall asleep at night with Shane’s hand on my stomach, dreaming of him as a father and our moms and dads as proud grandparents.  But for reasons far beyond our human understanding, this particular baby wasn’t meant to be.  Damn.  Damn, damn, damn.

I looked in the mirror this morning and couldn’t stop myself from picturing what things would be like if Poppyseed hadn’t been lost. My belly would be big and round. Or I might have a wee little baby in my arms, swaddled in warm blankets and nuzzled against my chest. It made my heart ache.  But there is hope in the midst of sorrow, and so much love in the midst of grief.  So I’ll cling to the hope and the love and be thankful for the plans God has for us.  But I will also shed tears  for the baby we’ll never know.

There’s a part of me that wants to dislike Valentine’s Day – I know it’s become a “Hallmark Holiday”, full of commercialism and consumption and cheeseball sayings on little candy hearts.  But here’s the problem when it comes to me hatin’ on V-day:  I’m married to a man that decided to surprise me with a decadent French dinner at Chloe tonight and hold my hands across the table and be all romantic and stuff.  And really, who am I to turn down champagne and mussels and sorbet-topped meringue?  So I’m putting aside any bah-humbug feelings and embracing the mushy-lovey-dippy-doo.  Happy Valentine’s Day, Mr. Schnell.  It was fun to get out on the town and be all fancy-pants with you (and it’s also fun to sit here in our PJs and catch up on the Daily Show).  I heart you mucho.

The past couple days might very well go down as one of the best weekends of 2012.  I know, it’s still early in the year, so I might be jumping the gun, but we did some serious lovin’ life and livin’ large this weekend.  On Friday afternoon, we hit the road with Jack and La Verne and headed east to snowy Leavenworth for a big-bash weekend to celebrate Jack’s birthday.  La Verne had found an amazing house and loaded the car with food and wine, and from the moment we opened the door, set our bags down, and watched Jack pop the sugar-crusted slow-roasted pork in the oven for dinner, I knew: this would be epic.  The rest of the party people trickled in as the evening went on, and by 10:00, all fourteen of us were sitting around the living room, enjoying the warmth of a fire and the company of good friends.

It was dark when we arrived on Friday evening, so I was happily surprised when I awoke on Saturday and found that the house was perched on a ridge overlooking a river on one side a pear orchard on the other, in the midst of serene, snowy, pine-covered mountains.  I took one look out the huge living room windows and was ready to move in.

In addition to the incredible views, the house came with its very own ukelele – I couldn’t resist snapping a pic as La Verne strummed its strings and Shane gazed pensively out the window.  Such a Zen kind of morning…

A few of the guys headed out to hit the slopes at Stevens while the rest of us cozied up for a day at the house.  I changed out of my pajamas around 11 am and did a little yoga with La Verne and Alice, then showered, napped, read, had a living room dance party with little Gryffin and Isaiah (I would understand if Nancy never forgives me for introducing her boys to Britney Spears…), and generally reveled in the joy of a warm mountain cabin.  The clouds parted in the afternoon and Shane and I took a short walk to check out the orchard and the amazing little terrace overlooking the river.  We sat on a bench and took in the view while the sun warmed our faces – it was, in a word, perfection.

We all convened in the kitchen once the skiers got home and feasted on hearty helpings of spaghetti and meatballs – this was Mike and Alice’s first weekend away with the group, and I believe Mike used the phrase “eating like kings” at some point.  Welcome to life with Jack and La Verne, dude!  It’s goooooood.

We sat around the table and ate and played games and drank and laughed, eventually making our way to the living room to build a fire and sprawl out on the couches and floor for more laughter and story-telling.  Sometimes I wish I had a tape recorder for our bizarre, hilarious late-night conversations.  Then again, some things are better left unrecorded…  I went to bed that night with abs sore from so much giggling.

Sadly, we had to check out on Sunday morning, but not before enjoying a few more precious moments in the snow.

I’m so glad I documented Brian’s beard-stache combo while it lasted – he showed up on the doorstep on Friday night in a brightly wrapped box, and when Nicole told Jack to open his present, he found…this:  Brian had carved away at his beard and styled his facial hair extra-fancy just for Jack (who has admitted to a total inability to cultivate anything more than a patchy fuzz on his own baby-skinned face).  Sometimes you have to get creative when gift-giving for the man who has everything – well done, Brian.  Well done.

The birthday boy and his rockstar wife…

We stopped in the town of Leavenworth on our way home, saddened to have said good-bye to our party pad, but finding consolation in beer, brats, and gelato.

We made it back to rainy Seattle mid-afternoon, the weather here fitting for the post-party funk I quickly fell into.  On the bright side, I have so much to be thankful for in the friendships we’ve found in this funny, close-knit, brilliant group of people.  We have already declared this trip an annual tradition – and I’m counting down the days to 2013.

Yesterday marked the end of our annual month-long practice in frugality.  31 days of no eating out, no shopping, no spending outside of regular bill-paying and grocery-buying.  It was a loooong January…  It’s tempting to ramble on about the things I missed or craved or bitterly denied myself, but I have to remember what a blessing it is that we do this out of choice rather than necessity.  The fact of the matter is this: we live a very charmed life.  So I’m looking back on the month with a couple of lessons learned, a couple of goals for the coming months, and a whole heap of gratitude for the multitude of blessings we enjoy that money can’t buy.

First, Starbucks is a non-necessary evil.  There are three Starbucks stores within one block of my office, and I had developed a habit of making not one, but often two trips in a day to indulge in a latte or Americano.  Not so much for the caffeine fix, but because I liked the routine of it – I liked the mid-afternoon break, the smile from my friendly barista, the warmth of that white-and-green cup in my hands as I walked back to my office.  And yet, I was surprised to find that I hardly missed my visits to the old ‘Bux around the corner last month.  The office tea cupboard is well-stocked, and let’s be real – that barista I felt so attached to didn’t even know my name.

Second, eliminating eating out from your diet usually results in a caloric decrease – weight loss may indeed a positive side effect of frugality!  However, if you’re baking chocolate chip banana bread and carrot cake with cream cheese frosting to pull yourself through the long, restaurant-less weeks, don’t even bother stepping on that scale.  Damn.

Third, it pays to rummage.  There were several days when my meal planning went amiss and we were left scratching our heads, staring at the cupboards and complaining that there was nothing to eat.  But when faced with the challenge, I unearthed the fixin’s for some pretty good meals – pasta with marinara sauce, curry noodle soup, veggie stir-fry’s.  Then there were the nights that I ate an apple and peanut butter with a side of chips and salsa for dinner.  Don’t judge.

Fourth, sharing a home-cooked meal with good friends at a dining room table beats sitting in a crowded restaurant (almost) any day.  We shared meals with our fellow frugal-ites (it’s become something of a movement among our friends!) almost every Sunday this month, and it was grand.  When at home, you linger longer, you get to pick the music playing in the background, and you can wear yoga pants and slipper socks at the table.  Nice!  Spending time in the warm and cozy kitchens of friends was what made feel the month feel not-so-bad.

We’re determined that this practice of discipline will influence how we think about consumption over the coming year – it’s not just about saving money, it’s about being more mindful of the “needs” vs. “wants” vs. “shoulds and should-nots”.  Lucky for me, my lunchtime burrito bowl with a side of chips qualified on all counts.  T.G.I.February.

I had a dream about Robert Pattinson last night.  We were at a party and he was being all cool and Edward-y (minus the sparkles), and I was being all swoony and silly, and then, in the wee hours of the morning, I woke up.  I suffered just the shortest moment of disappointment that it was over, but then I rolled over and I looked at my husband sleeping next to me, snoring in his easy, quiet way, and I thanked my lucky stars for him.  I bet Shane is reading this now and thinking, “Say what?  You snuggled up on me this morning and wanted to spoon because you had a dream about a Twilight character?!”  But honey, no, that’s not it – I snuggled up on you because I love you and sometimes I am just so stinkin’ happy that I get be yours.  That you get to be mine.

Sometimes I forget to be thankful, and I spend my energy nagging, or pouting, or pushing Shane away, and I’m sorry for that.  Because, really, my man in the bee’s knees.  Cases in point:

He makes me laugh.  Probably every day.  I was sitting in the living room last night blog-surfing and he was downstairs in the office hackin’ around (my phrase for his complicated technological exploits), and suddenly, in the midst of the quiet, I heard him belt out the lyrics to some old-school Rage Against the Machine song.  I poked my head into the office and he started playing the air-drums and wildly shaking his head from side to side.  He had his headphones on, and the fact that I couldn’t hear the music made it even funnier.   He may or may not have been singing for me, but I don’t care – I’m just glad to bear witness to his unabashed silliness.

He’s my #1 fan, my loudest cheerleader and strongest advocate.  He shares in all my greatest joys, never hesitating to tell me that he’s proud of me and remind me that I have the potential to do anything I want to do.  And he often tells me that I’m hot.  That’s awfully nice.

He’s a rock.  He’s steady under pressure, cool in the midst of chaos, affirming when life starts to feel kinda…ick.  And he never ever lets me feel like I’m going at it alone – even in tough situations that don’t directly involve him, he insists “We will get through this”.  Sometimes I’m bugged by the “we” that so often replaces “I” once you get married, but sometimes that little two-letter pronoun holds so much comfort.  We got through the stress of my licensing exams a couple of years ago, we carry each other’s burdens in work and finances and relationships, we figure out how to do life together.  His contribution might be as simple as picking me up from work when I’ve had an especially long day, but sometimes that’s all it takes for me to be reassured that he’s not expecting me to fly solo.

So…thanks, baby.  Edward ain’t got nothin’ on you.

Our winter wonderland has melted into a cold, dirty slush – this weekend was full of rain and dreary gray skies.  Hmmph.  So I’m seeking comfort wherever I can find it, drowning my post-snow sorrows in:

Fresh-baked banana bread – my second loaf of the weekend just came out of the oven, and the house smells like the happiest place on earth.  It’s cheap and easy, rich and moist, and so wonderfully versatile:  perfect for a morning brunch or an after-dinner dessert.  Shane eats it like it’s goin’ out of style.

Sunday afternoon football.  Not so much for the sport, but for the quality relaxation I get as I curl up next to Shane on the couch and read or nap while he watches the game.  Maybe because I grew up in a home of football fans, maybe because it’s something so inextricably linked with mellow winter weekends, but there’s something really comforting about an afternoon with the NFL.    p.s. Dang it, Ravens!

My Kindle.  I resisted the e-book revolution for a long time, arguing that there just isn’t any substitute for the feel of a book with flippable pages in your hands, but now that I’m a Kindle owner, I’m never ever going back.  I have stocked this itty bitty device with a dozen classics (free!) and am frequently taking advantage of the library’s list of e-books (free!).  Never again will I be caught without something to read.  Brilliant.

Candles, double pairs of socks, and blanket cocoons.  I feel like I’m in semi-hibernation, but I’ve made myself one heck of a cave.

We are now half-way through our annual tradition of Frugal January – 16 days and counting of no eating out, no stops at the cafe for a piping hot latte, no shopping, no non-essential spending.  And really, it hasn’t been so bad, especially when we have weekends like this one when all I really want to do is hole up inside with my Kindle and my stash of tea and chocolate, anyway.  The past couple of days might very well go down in the books as laze-fest 2012, as I spent nearly every waking moment on the couch, leaving the house only to accept a couple of dinner invitations from friends (which was perfect, since cooking would have required more effort than I was willing to put forth, anyway…).  And it. was. glorious. Sunday was particularly perfect – we’d heard murmurings on Saturday that Seattle-ites could soon expect the first snowfall of the season, and I awoke the next morning to frosty rooftops and freezing temps.  It wasn’t quite the white wonderland I’d hoped for, but I kept my fingers crossed and by 10am, big, puffy flakes were falling from the sky, draping our yard in a bright white blanket.  We watched the neighborhood kids make snow angels in the driveway, I baked pumpkin spice muffins, and we burrowed under a pile of blankets for some serious veg time.  While Shane watched football, I pulled out my watercolors and played around in my sketchbook, reveling in the comfort of our home and the pretty, bright light that came through the windows as it bounced off the snow.  It was all kinds of good.

We ended the day with a hot pot dinner at Jack and La Verne’s – a January tradition I’ve come to associate with so much warmth and laughter and fellowship – a good-for-my-soul kind of meal for a good-for-my-soul kind of weekend.

Yes, I’m a couple weeks late on this – I’ve spent quite a bit of time lately reflecting on the ups and downs of 2011 and am just now getting on board with 2012 and all it has to offer.  Without further ado, the list:

Read the Bible in its entirety.  Even though I’ve spent my whole life being part of various churches, I think there are still parts of the Bible I have yet to crack open.  And so when our pastor challenged us to spend the next year going through the whole, daunting, entire thing, Shane and I jumped on board.  It’s going to take some big-time commitment, especially once we hit Leviticus, but I’m all in.  Bring it, Moses.

Catch up with a friend over coffee every week or two.  My life is full of people that I want to know better, but I suppose I have some initiative issues when it comes to relationships – my homebody tendencies usually win out on a Saturday afternoon.  Wine, pie, and ice cream sundaes are also acceptable means of relationship-building.

Check out one new (to us) Seattle restaurant each month.  We still have much love for our tried-and-true neighborhood pizza joint, but every time I open our latest issue of Seattle magazine, I can’t help feeling like we’re missing out on a whole lotta culinary goodness out there.  On the list:  Spinasse, Kona Kitchen, Maekawa, and June.

Read the Economist leaders each week.  Several times, I’ve expressed a desire to be more “in-the-know” when it comes to current events, and several times, I’ve fallen short.  For months now, Shane’s been leaving his copies of the Economist under my nose, opened to stories he thinks I’ll find interesting, and this year, I’m validating his efforts.  My husband will be so happy when he can throw out words like “Gitmo” and get more than a blank stare in return.  This one’s for you, babe.

Juice at least once a week.  We invested in a nice juicer over the summer, and we were both feeling fantastic at the height of our kale/celery/carrot/apple intake, but lately the Breville isn’t getting much use – it just sits on the counter and stares me down as I grab that carton of whatever’s-on-sale OJ from the fridge.  Ideally, we’d be juicing every other day, but in the winter, I’d settle for just one tall glass of hearty green stuff each week.

Cheers, 2012 – I’ve got a good feeling about this year.

I put together our 2012 calendar today, which involved sifting through the past year’s photos and selecting snapshots of our favorite 2011 moments.  And I know I say this every year, but dang, it’s been a good year.  This has probably been our biggest travel year ever, with vacations in Florida, Chicago/Minneapolis, and Europe, and lots of little weekend getaways to places like San Francisco, Vancouver, and Portland.  We’ve shared countless meals with close friends, we’ve made special trips to connect with family, we’ve felt our hearts overflow with love, both given and received.  I’ve drawn and painted, I’ve cooked new things, I’ve enjoyed successes and new opportunities at work.  I’ve laughed a lot.  But there have also been moments when big, dark clouds overtook our happy, sunny skies – there have been times this year when we’ve felt deep, deep loss, when our hearts have broken for friends and family that are going through things we can’t fix.  There have been times when I’ve cried to God, asked him “why?” and heard nothing but silence.  And then I take my fingers out of my ears and remember His faithfulness – He reminds me of his presence time and again, in a hug from Shane, in an encouraging note from a friend, in a spectacular sunset or park full of autumn leaves.  Indeed, I have much to be thankful for.

Tonight we’ll close out the year with friends and champagne here at home.  There may be a dance party involved.  There will definitely be plenty of laughter and joy.  Peace out, 2011.  It’s been real.