take on tradition: st. nicholas

My college friends all knew about St. Nicholas and how he came on the night of December fifth and fills your shoes with goodies. [You have to leave your shoes outside your door, FYI]. I thought it was weird... and endearing! It shouldn't have been so weird considering the date is tied to his feast day on the sixth, and that's so catholic. I grew up praying to St. Anthony to help us find a good parking spot and to St. Christopher for safe travels. My mom was named after St. Therese, the little flower. Jesus hooks me up with answers to prayers these days, but honoring saints is only right.

We all put our shoes outside our friends' suite in the cool wing of the dorm every year for St. Nick in college. And I decided I would one day instill this tradition into my own household.

I forget every year. I remember on December 6th and raise a fist and growl. Grrrrr. I forgot again! I guess certain dates take some time to stick.

To my delight, someone mentioned it on the fifth last week. Thank you! The same year I'm taking more extreme measures in starting our little family's traditions... fab.

St. Nick left G little gold coin chocolates (my Wikipedia research just now confirmed the gold coin connection), he left me me some Walgreens brand thin mints (I'll report back on those) and the husby got some orange slices and a Pinterest-inspired homemade snow globe in a mason jar with a Steak 'n Shake gift card inside. St. Nick is so creative!

May you have eyes to see the beauty --Meg Tess

Holden on and letting go

So, t minus eight days before I go back to work. As I write those words ("back to work"), I lay in a hotel room bed with a sound machine whirring to my right, a sleeping husby to my left, my well-traveled white puffy down comforter draped over my feet, and a swaddled content little boy nuzzled into my chest. And I cry. I'm afraid.

I'm scared to leave this baby to go back to work. Am I a bad mom if I choose to continue to teach? My mom stayed home with me. What's wrong with my motherly instincts if I don't stay home? Am I letting my son down?

Am I letting myself down if I stay home? It's a very personal decision that takes reflection.

I've learned, every summer break, Christmas break, spring break... and now maternity leave, that I don't thrive in non-structured, free of routine environments for extended periods of time. A brief vacation is great for me-- According to my reflective approximations, my maximum down-time should be around eleven days. I need these days to get into a slower pace, to quiet my racing tasky thoughts. I enjoy the heck out of my break, happily enveloped in no expectation and sleep and snacking and reading. But more time than that and I feel anxious, I become listless, I don't want to create, my self confidence falls. In essence, I feed off of interaction with people and in environments of learning.

For perspective, I've been on a break from work for over eighty days. Granted, there has been a lot of hard work, no sleep, hardly any reading (you think, oh I'll catch up on my reading while I nurse or when he's asleep... Ha!). And, I'm doing well! The joys of being a new mom have been the salve to my unstructured time.

But, I'm a little lost all the same. Deep down, I know I'm going to be the best version of my self while working in a job outside the home. The guilt is palpable. But, I've been prepared for this moment by the best teacher in letting go of guilt and choosing the harder but better choices for my life.

I choose to be me. I need the interaction with fellow educators, I need the hard work of using love and boundaries and encouragement in the classroom to grow confidence in young men and women, I need to feed the seeds I've sown into my career with reading and conversations and workshops. These needs do not diminish the great mom I am and will continue to be.

One day, Graham and I will have conversations about walking through hard decisions-- I'm sure I will use this exact post to show him that there's still fruit from choices that leave you weepy and afraid. It's about holding on to the things that won't sink-- faith, hope, love. I need all three for this transition.

And so, I kiss the forehead of this little boy and I let go of his little body and place him in his bassinet. I know that letting go of guilt and shame is beautiful. And I think, as a mother, there's a lot more of it to come. I like to think about what to hold on to when I say Graham's middle name, Holden. Let go of "perfect," and hold God's hand. I'm not letting go of being a good mother to Graham by working. I'm holding on to my best self.

What things do you choose to let go of in order to be your best self?

May you have eyes to see the beauty. --Meg Tess

Adding whimsy to a wedding shower

I was sleep deprived, still self-conscious about my body, feeding the little guy every two hours, and it was HOT. But, I was still able to collect ideas, envision "moments," and with a lot (and I mean a lot) of help and love from my mom and the husby, create a personal whimsical party for my bride-to-be sister.

[Whimsy tip #1] Table styling with dimension-- Create a tablescape with levels by first putting down a white cotton blend table cloth. Then put a sturdy box with a solid bottom upside down on the table at least six inches away from the edge and drape a second tablecloth over the top, smoothing the top surface before adding items.

[Whimsy tip #2] Cocktails served in mason jars-- Use a favorite recipe for a cocktail, triple the recipe and mix it with lots of ice, cut citrus and mint leaves in a large glass drink decanter (found mine at Costco a few years ago). For a party with an accurate attendee list, hand-write names with a fine sharpie in cut, hole-punched card stock and attach with water-resistant ribbon or raffia to the lip of the mason jars. This eliminates shabby plastic cups and helps guests keep track of their concoction if they added more cut fruit to their drink (raspberries, peaches, etc.). Find the jars at a hardware store! They're surprisingly affordable for the hot trend that they are.

[Whimsy tip #3] Plan ahead to make the game interesting-- find a game that puts the focus on the couple, is positive (no cutting anyone down) and makes people laugh-- I particularly like what I call "Raise the Shoe." Prepare a list of absolute statements that include: most, least, first, last, better, worse, etc. about the couple. For example: who said I love you first, who sleeps the most, who has the better style, etc. Then, sit the couple back to back holding one of their own shoes and one of their partner's. Have the guests decide how many they need right to get the prize. The idea is to have them both raise the shoe of the person who fits the description aiming to choose the same answer. If they hold up the shoe of the same person, they get a point. It's fun, keeps people engaged, and the groom gets competitive and feels less weird making an appearance.

[Whimsy tip #4] Think out of the bakery box-- Find a vendor who makes cupcakes actually flavored with real alcohol. And, unless you've got weeks and the patience of Martha Stewart's test cooks, don't try to bake them yourself. I found a local pastry chef who runs a small business out of her home. Support local creatives when at all possible. I was able to choose flavors that went with the cocktail party theme I started with. I had them frosted/decorated with the color scheme (gray and yellow). Labeling the flavors with simple card stock tent cards really helps people from asking multiple times, and people can more easily choose a flavor they prefer. I also used a pinterest photo (see link here: http://pinterest.com/pin/113434484334819232/) to inspire my milk and cookies tray. I ordered plastic small milk jugs and paper straws online, after a quick google search. Add some milk and Salerno butter cookies and this dessert is whimsical and reminiscent of our favorite childhood desserts.

[Bonus tip] Add fun but inexpensive and convenient favors-- Depend on you area grocer! Cakepops are now pre-made at many area grocery store bakery departments. I bought my (delicious) white cake pops with white chocolate frosting for only $1.30 each. Adorn with mini cupcake liners by poking the stick into the center of the liner, pulling it up to cup the pop, and add a tie 1/4 inch satin ribbon to hold it up at the top. It will make them look not perfect and pristine but instead... well, whimsical!

Here's a milk and cookie toast to wedding showers with whimsy!

May you have eyes to see the beauty. --Meg Teas

Summer so far

I haven't made it far in written text this summer. Lots of texting and snapping pictures, instead. So my mode is photos this summer. The lesson: poetry of moments via instagram filters will suffice for five am. Work with what you got, girl!

Don't confront me with my failures

"Don't confront me with my failures.
I had not forgotten them."
"These Days" lyrics, Jackson Browne

I've decided that my classroom this year is going to have a concrete, yet conceptual, theme. Call out the gold.

No one needs reminding of their baggage. She is very aware of it, at least in weight. Why do we believe that reminding someone, in words, eye-rolls and calls home, the bad will stop? I admit that it's much easier (for me, at least), to see others' junk, their shortcomings, their shortfalls. Just as it's easier to see my own.

But this will not be a year of easy. I'm leaving my baby with a capable and delightful in-home daycare provider, but she's not me. If he doesn't get me so I can be impactful at school with hundreds of high schoolers, these kids aren't just going to walk away with figures of speech, in theory. We're gonna choose the difficult, the digging. For gold.

We're going to learn to call out the gold in each other this year. Now, it takes different tools than planners and pencils. It will take new perspectives through once fogged up lenses used to criticism and comparisom. We will need a new set of feedback that reminds our minds of dreams and destinies.

My students, I declare, will walk out of there with their own dare: give hope. Dig until you find a person's gold, and call it out. And do the same for yourself.

It's going to be a golden year. And my Golden Graham Holden will hear about it, one day, when I tell him what I did when he was in daycare. I'll say, instead of confronting my students and colleagues with their failures, I refocused my gaze to their beauty, and reminded them of it, daily.

Out of the corner of my eye

When I was planning events full time, I was an expert in what I coined "WCS." Worst Case Scenario. I thought this made me better prepared for everything to go to hell in a hand basket. [If the awardee was tipsy before his speech, or if it started pouring in the middle of the 5K ribbon ceremony I would be prepared].

When something inconvenient or discouraging happens in my life [I spill salsa on my white skirt seconds before leaving for a party, say, or I lock my keys in the car] the phrase, "Of course" inevitably follows. (This crappy thing just happened to me. Of course. It's only natural).

When my husband (or mom or friend or colleague) is late or unreachable via text or phone for longer than fifteen minutes, I imagine a huge car accident. [Maybe they're in an ambulance and he doesn't have me listed as "wife" on his phone so they don't know who to call...]

When I can sense that something is about to happen, or that someone is standing right over my shoulder, I start an internal preparation for horrible dream-killing news. [What would I do if I was grabbed and attacked? Or, Maybe this job that I love is "too good to be true" and my contract won't be renewed].

When I see a speck or shadow out of the corner of my eye, my first reaction is one of fear [Is it a spider?! Is it a demon?! An assailant in my shower could be waiting to harm me!!]

Well, I've had enough. There's a lot of power in the corner of one's eye. If i were to add up all the seconds accumulated entertaining those thoughts, it would be astounding. A lot is lost living in a place of "oh well"s and worst case scenarios. Worry and suppositions of scary possibilities saps us of something palpable: expectation of good.

If I truly believe that God is a loving Father then why do I assume the worst? I can now assume the Best Case Scenario will occur. I can believe that when I sense that something is about to break into my life that it will be a beautiful blessing. [My husband is probably late because he encouraged a stranger or because he stopped to get me flowers].

"Of course" can be a phrase I use when things go my way. [If I get all the green lights on the way to work or if the recipe I try is delicious... "of course!"]

I will expect good and clean out that corner of my eye. I can believe it's an angel I sense behind me.

This is why: God is good. He works things together for us to prosper. He likes [good] surprises. His spirit creates joy and freedom. I can actually EXPECT the good. His power and influence is increasing. Everything is NOT going to Hell. I'm going to stand on the side of hope, of God showing up.

Out of the corner of my eye I choose to see things that are lovely, noble and true. I want to train my mind to be an expector of God showing up. I can hear Ella Fitzgerald singing, "the best is yet to come..." over my life. I want to be the resident expert in BCS. Best Case Scenario.

When this is a challenge, there are reminders to keep us in the expectation of good. My son's face is one of those for me. I was worried about him my entire pregnancy. I entertained WCS's I will not list here instead of letting myself dream about the blessing growing inside me

I worried constantly, but instead of tragedy, I got this little sleeping face in my arms.

Of course.

May you have eyes to see the beauty. --Meg Tess

Graham's Room

It's an overdue post after an overdue but perfect baby came into our lives. I am beyond inspired by the deep beauty that has been given to us from and extravagant giver of good things.

When we got home from the hospital, T took the baby upstairs and showed him his room! It was unprompted and the beginning of what a great Dad the husby is already.

Waiting for the suddenly

The idea of "suddenlies" in life has always been so beautiful to me-- when they're for other people. I don't really live from a place of sudden happenings. You see, I'm a planner. An idealistic "picture all possible scenarios" prepared person.

But, this Spring, has been a Spring of suddenlies for Chicagoland. At least in nature. We had a week of 80 degree days in early March. The trees bloomed three months early. The lilac bush in our front yard (which I blogged about last MAY) had a 1/8 bloom experience and jumped straight to leaves.

I was hoping my own pregnancy would bloom and bud soon, too!  I almost assumed that it would.

While I waited for my own suddenly (water breaking, contractions settling in at midnight), I quickly consumed my favorite things about this Spring:

Artichokes (steamed with drawn lemon butter for dipping)...

 Budding branches...

A new mantle styling...

And... my own growth...

I must admit that now, in late April, I feel I've been tricked, that my own own suddenly Spring has been foiled. I thought the birth would parallel with Chicago's season (early).  I've never wanted a suddenly so badly. Once that April 18th due date came and went and the doctor suggested a scheduled induction for the 26th, I've been ravenous for breakthrough to the next stage.

It reminds me of a very practical application of one of my favorite quotes by Anais Nin.

"Then the time came when the risk it took to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom."

The last time I was in line with this quote was when God was encouraging me to move forward, to take risks to be the real me, to shed off the old and become new five or six years ago. This time, it's different. I don't have any control over this blossoming... this waiting.

And I've found that waiting is... PAINFUL! Beautiful and painful. I've realized that my Spring, this season for our family, is a long beautiful patient and contemplative Spring. Different than the fast and furious Chicagoland one. My Spring is a slow one- my buds are taking their time to bloom, my sun is peaking and hiding multiple times an afternoon, my wind is engaging young branches to sway like a dance of thoughts and then still again... waiting. All waiting. God (are you surprised?) has shown up in the waiting for me, making it beautiful even in the line of my disappointed and impatient gaze.

We'll be here... waiting hips, waiting arms, waiting ... nursery! [Which I can't wait to show you... once the boy is here.] Please Lord, let him come suddenly (and healthily)... today.

Share some tips about what you did to pass the time when waiting consumed you.  What helped you to stay centered and positive?

May you have eyes to see the beauty. --Meg Tess