i was in second grade when the challenger, carrying teacher christa mcauliffe and a crew of brilliant scientists and explorers, was snatched out of the air by a fiery fate. as my classmates and i whirled around on the school’s blue cafeteria stools trying unsuccessfully to trade our carrot sticks  for others’ sugar-coated desserts, the grave voice of our headmaster came through the loud speaker and shocked everyone into stillness. he told us what had happened to the challenger, and i watched as my teachers looked aghast and teary.

my world was full of smocked dresses and church-league sports, and homework was the closest thing to a tragedy i had yet experienced. but in that moment, i got the sense that the grown-ups knew much more than i did about the world, which could apparently be sad and scary enough to make even teachers cry.

now, over two decades later, as i vacation with my family and extended family in florida’s beautiful white sandy gulf coast, i have those same second grade school cafeteria feelings, only this time, i’m in the role of a teacher. with two kids in my charge, one of whom will likely have half-memories of the oil leak like mine of the challenger’s explosion, i wonder how much of the world’s underbelly the monkey is taking in.

of course he doesn’t fully understand what has happened or how to fix it. does anybody? but he can use words like “dispersant” in conversation now. he looks, with his cousins, through binoculars at the boats in front of our condo and runs with packs of older children to inform adults that the boats are “laying out boom.” was the monkey standing on the shore when my brother plucked a small oil conglomerate out of the surf and used it to draw a slick black line on his hand? or will this trip go down in his personal history as the one when he first tried boogie boarding?

the beaches a few miles west of us were closed yesterday after black, gooey, half-baked pancakes of slippery black oil washed up on shore. my brother and sister-in-law trekked down there with the the sense of awareness and responsibility that comes when one knows that history is being made right before one’s eyes. as i type, the water in front of me still looks beautiful, but some say it’s already marked by a different texture and enough dispersant to cause a rash. it will not be long before the oil hits here in full force.

meanwhile, we will continue our evening softball games in the courtyard. the monkey will continue to delight in this village extended family. he’ll continue to work on his new swimming skills in the pool, and he’ll probably even get to make a few more sandcastles. but somewhere, in the midstof all of this, he must be intuiting that human beings, for all of our creativity and intelligence, are limited. it must be dawning on him, little by little, that the world can be a sad and scary place. he is gradually joining the rest of us in a world beautifully described by william sloane coffin as a place that is “too dangerous for anything but truth and too small for anything but love. ”

[the pictures from this post were taken yesterday near the east pass in destin, florida by my brother, jamie.]

the results of my little filming session with the mutual of omaha aha moment folks were posted yesterday afternoon. my reactions to seeing myself on video are always twofold:

1. i can’t believe this is what i look like, sound like, act like, etc.
2. i’m so glad my friends and family accept me anyway.

check it out:

http://www.ahamoment.com/pg/moments/view/12718

first name: Kathi

age: 38 (ouch!)

current city: Hermosa Beach, CA

living situation: I live with my husband, Sean, our four year old daughter, and our two year old son.

occupation: I am what Mary Allison calls “a part-time hybrid mother.” I work full time for my family and part time out in the world as a designer.

how do you structure your time and space? I see the balance challenge as two different ventures. There is the mental balance and the actual logistical balance. The two are intertwined of course, but it is easier to answer this question if I separate them.

The mental side of this equation is the hardest for me. When I am not with the kids physically, I think about them and want to be with them. When I am with the kids physically, I am thinking about what I will accomplish next time I have some “coverage.” It was this way when I worked 40+ hours per week and it is this way now that I work part time. I am not sure if it is innovative or creative, but I am a firm believer in my mommy natural cocktail to help with the mental balance and focus. A morning dosage of peppermint essential oil under the nose forces me to wake up and start the day with a deep breath, mid-morning and afternoon shots of the amino acid L-Theanine really keep my head above ground, and an evening serving of melatonin helps to get me to sleep early. This is a formula that really helps me along with a decent amount of protein and a dash or so of caffeine.

Regarding the logistical balance, until December of ‘09, I worked more than full time outside of the home as a marketing consultant. So for the first four years of motherhood, the balance was entirely different than it has been for the last six months. We now have a nanny who comes ten to eighteen hours per week, depending on my needs and deadlines. I use those hours now to work part-time as a designer and writer. For the last five months I have been working in my home office to design a line of children’s clothing. I blog about these design escapades and my journey of “owning my own motherhood” at www.semi-handmade.com .

The one approach that I use that could seem a little innovative, is that I try not to spend any time away from my kids (while using any sort of paid help) doing something that someone else could do just as well. I’ve had my nanny run one last errand, address envelopes, iron seams, cut patterns, et cetera while I take over with the kiddos.

using the metaphor of seasons to describe the phases of women’s lives, 

-what are the particular challenges and highlights of your current season? The highlights of my current season are definitely the increased quantity and quality of hours I am able to spend with my kiddos. I am savoring the sweetness of this stage in our lives before the kids are both in school more. I am ever so grateful to be away from the corporate world for a while to enjoy being an integral part of the things they are learning and exploring, the questions they are asking, and the emotional intelligence they are building.

Challenges include staying focused and slowing down. After working in a fast-paced, demanding, and results-oriented career for so long, the new pace of my days can sometimes make my brain feel quite fuzzy. I have to try really hard to not measure the day’s success by what we have accomplished, what I can cross off  my list, and how much closer we are toward our “quota.” It took me three months to stop the habit of checking my blackberry at 6:00 every morning and to stop looking for the meeting or client who “needed” me right away.

-What season(s) preceded this one? The first four years of motherhood (2006-2009) were a mixture of pure bliss and great turmoil; I definitely would call that winter. I vividly remember running through airports with bags of breast milk in hand, anxious to get home to see my kiddos before they went to sleep. Sometimes those airplanes were delayed. Sometimes those airplanes were ahead of schedule and I did indeed make it home before they shut their tired eyes. I also will probably always remember being on a business trip for my little guy’s first birthday. Sure we celebrated later that week, but missing the actual date was physically painful for me. 

-What season(s) might your future hold? Literally and figuratively, I would call what lies ahead summer. I think the last time I had the summer off from a full time paying job was in 1986. While I do have a bit of work to do on my designs and writing, the next eight weeks of summer will include a lot of beach days and exploring around our tiny little seaside home and greater LA. I would love to call it an “endless summer” ahead for us, but I am not sure.

favorite family activities: The kids and I love to walk along the beach boardwalk, meeting as many dogs as we can and asking what the dogs’ names are. I am hoping that this summer, stand up paddle boarding and kayaking become a favorite family activities too, as I think this may be the summer of water for us.

favorite solo activities: I love any yoga class that is 65 minutes or less. Any longer than that drives me crazy. I also am enjoying a cardio core class at the gym right now, mainly because there is great music, it makes me sweat, the 55 minutes are a really good use of the time. I really enjoy sewing and knitting as well. I take a lot of photos and I enjoy that, and I am enjoying the results (not the actual process) of learning a bit more about Photoshop.

sources of inspiration: I do not have what fellow Mother of Invention, High Heeled Mom, calls an everything mentor .

When it comes to parenting, I am inspired by my daughter’s teachers at del sol, Janette and Cecilia. I am also inspired by quite a few of the parenting educators at the Center for Non-violent Education and Parenting.

When it comes to design, I am inspired by very random things. Right now I am completely fixated on this old wooden dilapidated bench I saw in the alley behind a Cajun restaurant near our house. I am not sure why but this bench, with its wood that is falling apart and beautifully bleached by the sun, is really sticking with me. It is terrific balance of modern and organic, this bench. Certain fabrics, such as Anna Maria Horners Little Folks Voiles also send me off and running with ideas.

I am also constantly inspired by contrasts. Contrasting colors, textures, lighting, moods…

My children and their friends inspire me in many ways. Their joy and honesty inspires me to find that within myself and tap into my own inner child.

best MakeShift moment: Juggling the corporate career and motherhood made for many MakeShift moments, mostly around breast pumps and conference calls, or breast pumps and public facilities.

Closer to home and more recently, I have had several MakeShift Moments as I balanced the needs of small people in our house with my desire to have a “designer” home, worthy of a “Coastal Living” center spread. A girl can have dreams, right, even if some are materialistic in nature? As function surpasses form these days, I pause, laugh, and try to remember that Martha Stewart’s Crosby-home-visit is not scheduled for some time yet.

When I took down the dining room table in order to make room for a play and art area that was closer to the kitchen, I conceded to the notion that I could have it all, just NOT all at the same time. It hit me that day that I was not going to be having sit down dinner parties while small children where in this house. While I carried the very heavy dining room table to the garage, I knew I was treading in the middle ground. This was the balance appropriate for our stage, and it did not include a dining room.

I had a similar MakeShift moment when we disassembled our bed frame and put our mattress right smack on the floor. This allowed me to stop using up valuable head space visualizing my monkeys jumping off the bed and needing stitches at the ER. A similar MakeShift moment that involved function over form took place just last weekend, when we butted a full-sized mattress right up to our California King-sized mattress. I have never seen that in Coastal Living magazine spreads, have you? But this is our balance. This is who we are — the Crosby Family — as we shift and “re” volve.

check out kathi’s blog at http://www.semi-handmade.com/.

as i was sitting on the beach this morning with a bird-turned-sand-flea in my lap and a surf-side monkey in my purview, i had a conversation with the other adults around about good summer reading for moms.

take note: i, myself, was not reading in this moment, just wishfully talking about doing so, which is often as far as my literary interest takes me these days. nevertheless, we came up with a working list of summer reading titles for moms, each of which fits  at least one of the following requirements:

1. self-contained chapters that do not to add strain to one’s poor dwindling memory.
2. brevity, which comes in handy when one drifts to sleep and drops the book on one’s face.
3.  page-turner, which allows the reader to feel successful and be swept into another world at the same time.
4. awakens an old part of one’s self

so, without further babble, here’s the list. feel free to add to it by leaving comments:

mr. darcy and the blue-eyed stranger, by lee smith. this book of southern short stories meets requirement number one, and it has made me laugh out loud at least ten times.

on chesil beach by ian mcewan. this tale of love, sex, and timing scores points for meeting requirement number two. if you drop this book on your face, you will not wake up until the morning.

born to run: a hidden tribe, superathletes, and the greatest race the world has never seen by christopher mcdougall. according to my husband and fiftyleven friends of mine who have read the book, this tale of the mexican tarahumara indians, their running style, and its potential to transform american running fits requirements three and four. all i know is that, inspired by this little gem,  my husband has reverted back to the habits of his high school cross-country days.

the sunday wife by cassandra king. this fictional account of female friendships and the life of a preacher’s wife allows the reader to vicariously vacation at grayton beach. it makes the list for meeting requirement number three.

an altar in the world by barbara brown taylor. for the theologically inclined, this book about finding god in the most ordinary places and experiences will have you looking to your dusty baseboards for signs of the divine. as is true for many of barbara brown taylor’s books, this one meets requirement number one.

the help by kathryn stockett. i might have been the last person on earth to read this fabulous book. i had a newborn when it came out, and it looked so long and daunting! but other mom friends read it and vouched that it meets requirement number three, and boy does it ever. i sped right through this illuminating and provocative story set in 1960’s jackson, and i was sad to say goodbye to the characters at the book’s end.

that’s all for now. feel free to add your own. i’ll probably add a few myself as the wishful conversation about reading continues. who knows… maybe i’ll even get to crack a book myself!

yesterday, when the monkey and i drove through kosciusko, mississippi, i said to my three-year-old-turned-captive-audience, “monkey, your great grandfather was from kosciusko.” i said this with full awareness that if  i had told him that oprah is from kosciusko, he’d have the same reaction, which was, “oh.”

a couple of hours later, when we passed through jackson, i said, “monkey, your great grandmother was from jackson.”

 i explained that he was named for these very special mississippi-born relatives, and then, in order to spark some interest where there clearly was none, i began to launch into stories about my beloved maternal grandparents.

i told him all about the time they took my brother and me to el chico’s for dinner and the waiter dropped a giant beer on my granddaddy’s head. suddenly, there were gales of laughter coming from the back seat. i told him that my grandaddy once worked really hard to build a giant tent on the beach for our family to play in. being an avid tent connoisseur himself, the monkey’s eyes widened. i told him about my spend-the-night dates with these grandparents that involved pancakes in the morning and sharing the bed with my grandmother on the nights preceding. we would stay up late, and she would tell me stories about her life and her relatives and about my parents’ childhoods and courtship. i loved these stories.

so i don’t know why i was surprised when, on two different occasions and after the passage of hours, the monkey pushed the stop button on his video and said, “tell me some more stories about your grandma and grandaddy, mommy.” and so i did.

i have read to the monkey and practiced with him his letters and numbers. i have potty trained him and tried (rather unsuccessfully) to teach him to share. but yesterday, i had the distinct sense that i was passing along something more important than all of those things. so much of enduring and enjoying this harsh and beautiful world depends our our ability to appreciate and tell a good story.

i began to understand the power of story when i read about vicktor frankl’s holocaust experiences in man’s search for meaning. surrounded by death and defeat, frankl kept his spirit alive by crafting a redeeming a narrative about his purpose in the world and the manuscript he would live to publish. we can make sense of our lives any way we want to. we can construct that stories that inform us in any way we choose. this process is what frankl called, “the last of human freedoms.”

 i experimented with this when my husband was diagnosed with a chronic illness, and i found that indeed, we can keep our spirits alive by choosing narratives that infuse our lives with meaning and purpose.

so today i am remembering with great fondness the one who sparked in me the love of a good story. what a privilege it is to pass along the last of human freedoms to her little namesake.

[the source for this post can be found on the bibliography page located on the sidebar to your right.]

yesterday, the monkey and i spent all day like this…

so that we can spend all week like this:

we arrived in the florida panhandle just in time to pick up andy and his charge, the bird, who really prefers to fly. let the fun begin!

for the past few days, the monkey has required the following object for all afternoon naps and night time sleeping:

yes, this is an embroidery hoop.

another friend told me last night that she and her husband have remade their three-year-old daughter’s bed with items that blind them with tackiness. the powerfully ugly bedding, blanket, and matching night light are comparable to the sight of heaven for their little girl, who just spent a long-awaited and much-celebrated night in her own room.

and finally, another friend swears that the best $9.99 that she’s ever spent was for the purchase of this umbrella:

bed time for this child now includes the careful arrangement of said umbrella so as to create a sort of sleeping canopy.

what is it with these kids and their sleeping accoutrements?

what bizarre objects are necessary for bed time at your house?

my children have two different mothers. 

 i do not mean this in a biological sense. andy and i (and modern science) created both the monkey and the bird. the monkey’s love of words and the bird’s love of climbing are dead giveaways that both are indeed mine.

but somehow, in the two-and-a-half-year span between the two boys’ births, their mom changed from one gal to another. for example:

•  the monkey’s mom had a fabulous haircut on day of his birth while the bird’s mom had a tragic mullet*.
• the monkey’s mom had a policy against waking a sleeping baby. the bird’s mom will just waltz into his room, scoop him up from his crib, and load him into the car to fetch the monkey from school.
• the monkey was carefully dressed, multiple times per day, in new outfits that were painstakingly sewn and purchased just for him. in contrast, the bird wears hand-me-down pajamas almost exclusively, some of which no longer fit.
• the monkey’s mom hovered over him in awe while he slept and consulted stacks of books at all hours of the night in order to diagnose imagined  breathing abnormalities. the bird’s mom simply hovers over him in awe while he sleeps.
• the monkey’s mom was a little shy about breastfeeding in public. the bird’s mom was not. ever the maximizer of time, she even pumped in the car while running errands.

apparently, this motherhood metamorphosis is one of the few things about me that are normal. on this topic, ayelet waldman writes the following: 

“abraham [her youngest] and sophie [her oldest] had two entirely different mothers. sophie’s was young and eager, and found the whole preschool experience to be novel and exciting. abraham’s mother was old, her knees hurt when she sat cross-legged on the floor, and her cupboards were already bursting with the popsicle-stick-and-glitter-glue picture frames. she did only a halfway decent job of feigning excitement at yet one more” (149). 

waldman goes on to write that even her two middle children, who are much closer in age, have two entirely different mothers.

the monkey’s preschool teachers have taught him a little chant, which i suppose is necessary when dishing out snacks to wide-eyed, cupcake-hungry three-year-olds: “you get what you get, and you don’t throw a fit!” i’ve been amazed at the effectiveness of this silly song when its principle has gracefully transferred, in other settings, to the distribution of balloons, party favors, and toys.

so, when my boys are old enough to protest the injustice that results from the fact that they have two differerent mothers, i have my answer ready:

you get what you get, and you don’t throw a fit!

*the above picture of the aforementioned mullet marks the ONLY day of the entire preceding year on which it looked decent. my doctor even commented on its “rare form” when he came in to deliver the bird.

first name: Tiernan

age: 34

current city: Denver

living situation: I live with my husband, Cody, our three children (ages three, four, and six) and our seven year old Yorkie, Mabry. Mentally, I have one foot in the country and one foot in the city at all times.

occupation: Writer/Small business owner/Mom

how do you structure your time and space? Only my oldest is in school right now (only half day), we don’t have any family in town, and we don’t do daycare. Consequently, I am with my kids ALOT. I love it but it can be exhausting. I am a writer for a number of online magazines, as well as a blogger and a small business owner (with my husband).

I just got a day planner and I don’t know how I lived without it. It was so liberating to transfer all of my commitments from scraps of paper in my purse to the planner. I feel so official and organized now! We are about to move into a new (for us) house that has a huge office, and I found a vintage double-sided post office desk that my husband and I are going to use. I cannot wait!

using the metaphor of seasons to describe the phases of women’s lives, 

-what are the particular challenges and highlights of your current season? I am Colorado autumn right now. One day it’s 80 degrees and sunny, the next day it is 40 degrees (still sunny but cold), the next day it is snowing, and then it’s sunny again. I actually relate to Colorado’s climate quite well because regardless of the current conditions, sun is inevitably right around the corner. With the kids being so young right now, I am in a constant maelstrom of child-related chaos. With one hand, I’m stubbornly holding on to my individual identity, but the other hand is in the grip of thirty sticky fingers (and ten not-so-sticky, but rather large fingers), which are pulling me in the other direction. Sometimes I feel like standing my ground is futile, and I give in to the world of sweatsuits, pony tails, and mini-vans. Not that there’s anything wrong with those things, but if you don’t step back every once in a while and remember who you are and what you love, you will be swallowed up. Mothering presents the constant challenge of finding balance between who I was, who I am, and who I want to be.

-What season(s) preceded this one? Glorious summer! Kids make you realize how easy life was before they entered the picture. Honestly, I look back and realize I was practically on vacation up until 2004 when my first born arrived. All I needed was a mojito and a bathing suit! Don’t get me wrong. Of course, my children are my greatest blessing but life has just transformed. One day, summer will return. But this time, it will be a family beach vacation rather than a girls’ trip to Cabo. I’m good with that. The promise of summer represents the dreams I have for my family.

-What season(s) might your future hold? SUMMER! I’m counting on it (yes, I notice the trend).

Favorite family activity: Hiking, riding bikes/scooters, playing board games, movie nights, picnics

favorite solo activities: My two greatest passions are books and horses. Few things make me happier than riding or curling up with a cup of tea and a book. Horses have been a part of my life since the age of five. I love the smell of wood shaving and manure.

As far as books are concerned, I admire the dedication and creativity involved in writing fiction. Even if a book isn’t stellar, I respect the fact that the author’s emotional sweat is poured out on the pages. I also practice yoga three to four times a week and love to run and cook. 

sources of inspiration: Women who are willing to mentor other women. Sometimes all you need to reach a new level of success is a little guidance and someone to believe in you. Too often, we are too busy to reach out and give of our time, but some women will go above and beyond to help another recognize a dream. Also, I admire anyone who trail-blazes in any forum. If you do something unexpected or against the grain and just keep moving forward in the face of adversity, I am inspired by you.

best MakeShift moment: My son had been begging me for months to use a box of paints that his nanna gave him. I kept putting if off because, well, paints makes a huge mess and I didn’t want to deal with it. This week, I finally gave in. I put a craft mat on the front yard, pulled out the dreaded paints and went to grab some paper. Small problem: no paper. Three eager faces stared back at me, so I went to my husband’s dresser, grabbed three white t-shirts and told them to get to work. They painted each other, and then they painted some moving boxes. They had so much fun doing it! 

check out tiernan’s blog at www.tiernanmckay.blogspot.com.

eight years ago, and after much contemplation, i slipped away from the house on a saturday and went alone to a nearby tattoo parlor to get my nosed pierced. my reasoning was informed, in part, by my own self-perception and my assumptions about how others perceived me, even as i knew that my accuracy on both accounts was probably questionable. but i was in the process of entering the ministry, a vocation that includes hazards such as inevitable affiliation with the church, an institution that simultaneously surprises me with goodness and makes me want to rip my hair out. in the deep south, surrounded by bible thumpers and those still reeling from subjection to this thumping, i was afraid to let my label as a minister define me. i wanted for people to look at my face — my nose, specifically — and think, “she’s not your ordinary minister.” i can’t say that the nosering has rescued me from eight years of stereotypes, as planned. what i know for sure is that i just like it.

the reaction to my new facial addition varied. my in-laws called me dennis rodman, which in my opinion, was hilarious! a friend cautiously asked me if i would still be wearing it once i became a mother. i answered her with an enthusiastic yes. the prospect of being a mom with a nose ring thrilled me almost as much as being a minister with a nosering.

but little did i know then that one day (in december of ’09, to be exact), my youngest child would close in on my face for a gummy-mouthed kiss and EAT my nosering. when my friend asked me if i would be a “nosering mama,” i did not forsee that such a designation would lead to utterances such as,

“hello… laurelwood pediatrics… we’ve got a bit of a problem here. you see, the bird has consumed a piece of facial jewelry.”

but eight years into this commitment, i pressed on. i never again saw that particular custom-made nosering, despite my best archaeological efforts. i resigned myself to wearing the cheap mall boutique noserings that lose their “stones” every two weeks. and then, as luck would have it, my friend and yoga teacher, margot, heard the “bird ate my nosering” story at a party and offered me her retired piece of bling — a beautiful rose gold beveled stud, custom made by the same jeweler who made my old one.

she gave it to me last night, and the new ring fits tightly, so as not to be gobbled up in fits of toddler affection.

the moral of the story is this: if you’re going to be a “nosering mama,” you’re going to have to babyproof your face.