Don't it make my brown pants blue

The blogworthy item in this picture is not that my four year old son learned to ride a two-wheeler today. That was indeed amazing and we are incredibly proud of him and proud of ourselves for letting him do it at his own pace. But I'm talking about something a little more profound.

Look a little closer and you will see what would appear to the untrained eye as a simple pair of blue jeans. This is no ordinary pair of blue jeans my friends. These jeans, while sitting folded in my son's closet for the last year, have come to symbolize unparalleled inflexibility. But now they symbolize the winds of change. My son, who for a YEAR would only wear black jeans to school and brown pants on the weekends, who would only wear his black shoes with his blue socks, who would only wear his dinosaur undies but never the plain green ones that came in the three-pack, is now wearing sandals, no socks, green undies and yes, as this picture is my proof, BLUE JEANS.

His two-wheel mastery is obviously outstanding but let's just say he had me at blue jeans.

Tell them your mommy's an artist

This morning we were getting ready for school and I remembered that today my son was supposed to share with his class about what kind of work his parents do. He came home with a paper bag and we were supposed to put things in it that we use at work and explain how we use those things. My husband was planning to bring home a model ear (he's designing a hearing aid) and some mechanical stuff but he forgot. So I grabbed a little Shutterfly photo book and put it in the bag and explained, Mommy is a copywriter. I write all the stuff on Shutterfly's website. And he's looking at me like I just told him I'm an appraiser or a lobbyist or an accountant - all professions he has neither heard of nor can relate to on any level. Tell them I try to inspire people to share their stories through their own pictures and words...still nothing.

Then I thought, you know what? Screw that. I dumped the Shutterfly book and went to get a few of my paintbrushes, a few tubes of paint and an assortment of my 5x7 animal prints, put them in the bag, looked my kid in the eyes and said, tell them your mommy's an artist.

And then today, at 2pm, I called my wonderful manager into a conference room and said, Dianna, I'm an artist. It's time for me to go. And she said that she knew I was doing the right thing though she was sad to see me leave. And we hugged. And I thanked her for being part of my creative awakening. It was a very good exchange. And now we can just be friends again.

So that's it. While the rest of the world is being laid off, I'm leaving my full-time, well-paid, easy-to-manage job, on my own accord. She's lost her mind! It's been said, the thing that keeps you from doing something great is doing something good. My life coach taught me that. So my very good year at Shutterfly is coming to an end and soon I'll begin the shift toward morning artist and afternoon mommy. And greatness. There's a nice symmetry there. I haven't written much on this subject namely because people I work with occasionally read this blog. I will say though that I didn't just snap because it was "put your profession in a paper bag day" at school. This decision and transition is nine months in the making. Thirty-five years and nine months.

Chevron, meet Mishmish

I have to share this email that I got from a friend of mine. She's the little sister of my childhood friend. I've known her since she was three. Now she's finishing up her MBA at UCSD and applying for jobs. She's an incredibly expressive, resourceful and intelligent girl and I am loving her right now for making my day yesterday. I'm feeling the love. Her message went like this:

BTW, i have to thank you for helping me out during a recent phone interview i had with Chevron Energy Solutions. I was asked the following: What is your all-time favorite website and why?

I am not really web 2.0 kind of gal and i don't spend that much time surfing the web so the question made me start sweating profusely. do i say Amazon? Boring. New York Times? More yawns! Tvfoodnetwork? Kind of shallow. Arm pits soaked at this point.

Luckily, I was sitting in front of my laptop during the call and opened up my bookmarks list-thingy. Being the last site I bookmarked, Mishmish Studio was first on the list and that's what I said! I said something like, this site is really personal because it's the result of a friend's hard work and admirable determination. She recently discovered that whether or not she can have it all, in terms of career, family, kids, is a moot point. What is important is that she feels empowered enough to try and have it all. That there is no reason for her to have to sacrifice the artist within just because she has 2 kids and a mortgage. In fact, she'll be a better parent and employee by staying committed to her dreams. blah blah blah.

There was a long pause wherein i thought, oh f$!@! Way too personal. TMI. She's probably looking for an answer like google finance or investopedia. But then the interviewer cleared her throat and told me that I gave her one of the best answers to that question that she has ever heard. That I brought tears to her eyes and that she was really touched. yes! score!!!

I love this story for so many reasons. But mostly because somehow my pictures of watery rainbows and whales might help an MBA get a job at Chevron. And so Mishmish Studio and Chevron are forever linked in the cosmic scheme of things. I never saw it coming. Man, the world is a funny place.

Rant

You know what I don't get? It's how the French mom at my kids' preschool has three kids and looks like she weighs a buck o'five. What gives? Is she guzzling red wine all day and walking to the boulangerie? No! Because she's not in France! She's in Mountain View with the rest of us, driving our cars around and eating Trader Joe food. So where is her poochy belly, the one she should still have because her youngest is only like 8 months old.

You know what else bugs me? Weeds. I can't friggin' stand weeds. The other day I got so sick of those broad leaf fuckers that come up through our patio bricks that I just pulled out the leaves, leaving the roots to regroup and fight their way back out in another month. I looked around for a good poison solution but couldn't find one. If I'd just been patient I could have sprayed them with something so they'd dry up and then pull the whole thing out. I am really low on patience. I have about as much patience as I have weed killer.

And what is with the City of Oakland? Do you really have to give out that many parking tickets? Screw you.

The Adventures of Dirt Girl and Bubble Boy

We went camping this weekend at a beautiful spot in Big Sur with five other families from our kids' preschool. And while I joked with my colleagues that if I don't show up for work on Monday it's because I had a nervous breakdown and wandered off into the wilderness muttering about Thomas the Tank Engine and poison oak, it was actually one of the best camping experiences we've had with the kids, if not the best weekend we've had ever. They were incredible. There were eleven kids altogether - six boys from preK plus four younger sisters and a younger brother. The moms in this group have been getting together about once a month since the beginning of the school year, usually at Sue's house, for wine and whine and this camping plan was hatched back in December. It couldn't have landed on a more perfect weekend. Apparently there was a terrible heat wave in the whole SF bay but we were living large in the low 70s with no fog. Unprecedented for Big Sur.

We got there around 6:30 on Friday evening and set everything up while trying to feed our kids. They were happy to see their friends and try out each family's "jumpy house". They went from tent to tent jumping on mattresses and having a ball. When it started to get dark my son asked if he could get ready for bed. Again, unprecedented. So we set them up in the same tent with the intention of moving my daughter later to sleep with her dad in the little tent and I would sleep with my son in the big tent. My daughter had never seen her sleeping bag but nothing phases this girl. She just jumped right in. I started singing them their songs and my daughter was snoring by the end of the first song. My son was still awake by the end of my repertoire but I told him I would be outside, we said goodnight and within ten minutes he was asleep at which point I joined the other parents at a neighboring site for dessert and drinks. And they slept the whole dang night. I was amazed.

The next day we went to an amazing beach but of course, I forgot their bathing suits (in fact I thought we were going on a hike so I didn't know to bring them). But my daughter ran around in her diaper and my son was in his underwear. Early on he got his undies wet and wanted to take them off but I got the feeling that some of these parents weren't super keen on naked kids everywhere, so I told him to wear his t-shirt (and take off his undies). Well his shirt got wet too and after a little bit of anxiety and discussion he decided he could handle having a wet shirt. Unprecedented! My daughter on the other had went out of her way to smear wet sand all over herself and then do a downward dog in the sand to get it all in her hair. She refused to wash her hands off when it was lunchtime so she ate what we now refer to as the sand-wich. And it occurred to me that these two kids could not be any more different. Same parents. Same home. Same preschool. Two completely different kids. Dirt Girl and Bubble Boy. But Bubble Boy impressed us with his ability to shake off his beach discomfort (he isn't always thrilled with the sand/seawater combo) and thoroughly enjoy himself.

That night both kids were out by the end of the first song. It used to be that we went camping just because we knew it was good for the kids but we didn't actually enjoy it that much. I mean, in all honesty. Because it's so much work! Just packing the car is like an 8 hour activity. And getting them to sleep at night and nursing in the tent...uch, terrible. The days were usually fine but it was always more exhausting than enjoyable. But now it's a pleasure. Which is why I'm not having a total come apart that we're doing it all over again this weekend with different families (bad planning - back to back camping trips) because I actually love it. And so do they.