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.

i married a mama’s boy. this is mostly a benefit because andy’s ongoing affection and respect for his mother has translated into affection and respect for all of the women in his life and chiefly me. my mother-in-law gets drop-in visits, flowers, lunches, and phone calls. she receives some of the rewards for her efforts to raise a compassionate, good-natured human being. but i receive so many more. 

on the other hand, marriage to a mama’s boy has had a few drawbacks, especially at the beginning. for example, there was that time during our first christmas season when our respective families were adjusting traditions and plans to accommodate each other. i felt the need, somewhere in the midst of all of that, to call andy “a titty baby.” i meant it as a joke, but nobody found it to be funny.

now, the joke is on me.

yes, now i have two mama’s boys of my own. it is not guaranteed, of course, but if karma has its way, i will be a mother-in-law, myself, someday. someone else will receive most of the fruits of my current labor.

i suppose it’s good that the letting go happens gradually. in my increasing uncoolness, i will be dropping these boys off a few blocks from their school long before i am having thanksgiving dinner on friday morning so that all of my adult children can attend.

but for now, while i am still the main gal in my sons’ lives, i’m going to savor those sloppy kisses and curly hugs. and for the future, i’m going to take some cues from andy’s mother, who has gracefully shared her son with me since he was 17 years old.

[this post was inspired by a chapter in ayelet waldman’s book, bad mother, entitled, “my mother-in-law, myself.”]

our neighbors recently acquired new patio furniture, and my boys recently acquired a new playhouse (complete with curtains, wall art, cave-like hieroglyphics, and a “welcome mat” that is really a pile of blankets).

i think this is what games theorists call “a win-win!”

first name: Carol

age: 33

current city: Hermosa Beach, CA  (near Los Angeles)

living situation: I live with my husband and our two boys, ages four and two. We recently added a fish, who only became a member of our family because it was a favor at a birthday party.

occupation: Wedding & Portrait Photographer 

how do you structure your time and space? I currently have an office in our house. I work about 30 hours a week and have a nanny who comes four days a week for the first half of the day. This allows me to have free afternoons with my boys and cook dinner. 

I squeeze in grocery shopping when needed and try to do fewer, bigger trips every other week than many small trips every week. I keep an ongoing list of what’s needed to keep me organized and keep the grocery store time streamlined.

My mother-in-law also comes one day a week to help us. She will take the boys all day and stay either overnight or until bedtime, to ensure that my husband and I have a date night to catch up. I cherish these date nights and uninterrupted conversations! 

I spend many weekend days away shooting weddings or families on location. I feel blessed that my husband enjoys taking care of the boys when I work during the weekend. 

When I get busier in the fall and add fifteen and more hours to my work week, I scrape the help together the best that I can.

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 think I have the best of both worlds right now, working at home and being available to my children during the day while they are still young.  It gets tight, space-wise, with my gear and post-production and office work, but I still prefer being close and listening to what’s going on downstairs.   

It can be very frustrating when my family needs me during my work time, since I try to keep the times divided. Sometimes I just have to go to the office and shut the door and ignore the polite little knocks or crying for “mama,” and sometimes I just “arrive” at the office a little later than usual.  It takes will power & patience to work from home, but I wouldn’t trade it. 

-What season(s) preceded this one? Before I had children four years ago, I was a photographer, only I worked many more (uninterrupted) hours while I was building my business. 

-What season(s) might your future hold? Eventually, when my children are in school for more hours, I would like to have a studio I can go to for my work, and for shooting and meeting with clients.  Also, I would love another assistant and an intern!

Favorite family activity: Loading up the stroller and going to the beach.  It’s the most fun AND easiest place to watch our children, and it wears them out!

favorite solo activities: grocery shopping, jogging, yoga (only once or twice a month). wait… answering this question makes me realize I need more time to do more solo activities.

sources of inspiration: 

• Finding new favorite music- I love Pandora & XM
• Reading my favorite blogs, websites & magazines 
• Gardening with my children
• Fabric shopping ( I don’t really sew but I enjoy looking at the colors and patterns)
• Online photo forum with other photographers

best MakeShift TOOL (i just added this category because its so important): The iphone. I have educational games and filtered YouTube clips downloaded for bribery when an important work phone call comes in during my time with the kids. Usually, I try not to take calls when I’m with them, but sometimes, the “shapes and puzzles” game really comes in handy!  It also comes in handy in doctors offices and airplane trips.  (Search the itunes app store for “toddler teasers,” a shapes, numbers and letters quizzing game, and your two year old will quickly learn to recognize a hexagon!)

best MakeShift moment: One Sunday evening, after a long weekend of celebrating our son’s first birthday, the door bell rang. My mom ran in the kitchen and told me that a couple had arrived to meet with me about their wedding. With all the focus on our house guests and birthday festivities, I completely forgot that I had booked a meeting for that night (another hazard of the home office!). We all looked around and saw the same thing: our place was a disaster with newly opened toys, wrapping paper, suitcases and lingering trays of party food. Luckily, we lived right around the corner from a French pastry & coffee shop. I asked the couple to wait one minute while I quickly gathered my sample albums and laptop (which had a slide show of my work), changed out of my play clothes, and ran out the door. As we walked into the coffee shop, I put my hand in my pocket and luckily found a $20 bill to treat the couple to a tasty treat. Whew!  It turned out to be a great meeting, and eight months later, I photographed their wedding. This makeshift “near crash” moment was only possible because of our “village” that holds us together:  grandparents, friends, and extended family. I don’t know what I would do without all of them and their support. 

find carol on the web:

• website: www.carolreach.com
• blog:  www.carolreach.wordpress.com