I thanked her, silently wished her more happiness in her life, and only see that colleague maybe once a year at networking events. For that last fact alone, I am greatly thankful.

Today is the day we give thanks. We supposedly open our eyes to all the good that is in our lives, open our hearts to the struggles those around us may be going through, and we bow in gratitude for what we have.

Much like how I feel about Valentine’s Day, I truly believe Thanksgiving should be celebrated every day (and not just because of the tradition of gorging on a massive feast).

For a while, the words from that colleague made me pause. Whenever I would go to thank someone, I would hesitate, and wonder if I had already said “thank you” too many times to the person in front of me, on the other end of the email, on the other end of the phone.

But like so many other pieces of unsolicited advice that have come my way, I have learned to let that second-guessing go. For the strength to be able to understand what she could not, I am thankful.

I say “thank you” a lot because it is what I feel. I say it because I want the receiver to know how I feel and never have to question it. I say it, because quite simply, it is very, very true.

On this special day, I know this much is true: there should never be a filter for gratitude.

No matter what etiquette rules state or what some old stuffy biddy in a suit tells you at a communications event, you can never say “thank you” enough. Especially when we live in a society that incorrectly equates denying success or great joy with being “humble.”

Say “thank you” ten times, and I am willing to bet the person receiving the gratitude will only hear it three times… and believe it perhaps just once.

{Photo of me tired, ready for turkey, and very, very thankful}

So I say “thank you” ten times, and then again, and again, and again. I say it as a reflex, without thinking, because these are words that should never be thought out, calculated — these are words that should be automatically catapulted from the heart, the soul, the places where gratitude rests and begs to be expressed.

I say “thank you” in the hopes that people hear it, then feel it, then know it.

I am grateful, oh so grateful, for so many things in this world. For my children. For coffee. For strangers who smile back. For comedians. For friends who allow me distance when I need it and who won’t let me push them away when I am too scared to let them in. For Pinterest. For the luxury I hope to never, ever take for granted of having a warm home, running water, electricity, a paycheck, and a closet full of clothes. For Naomi Shihab Nye and Pablo Neruda and Anais Nin and Sylvia Plath. For my husband’s quick wit. For my parents, my brother, my cousins, nieces and nephews, in-laws, aunts, uncles, godparents, grandparents, and great-grandparents. For the ability to think and speak for myself. For bacon and bourbon and the Beastie Boys. For explorers and leaders and dreamers who inspire me to be a better citizen and to do more for others. For the crazy individuals who are brave enough to love me back and kind enough to let me into their lives.

I am grateful for the woman who told me I said “thank you” too much. Grateful for her reminding me that I need to say it more, so that one day, she will not just hear, but she will know it and she will feel it.

So go say “thank you” a million gazillion times today. HAPPY THANKSGIVING, everyone! If you are actually reading this, I THANK YOU!!

Then I heard footsteps.

Two cute little beings appeared, with satisfied grins on their cute little faces.

Then my 7-year-old son showed me this piece of paper…

…as he explained that he was working with his 4-year-old sister on her spelling. This was her spelling sheet, which he took the liberty to correct once she was done.

Notice he wrote the words “good!” next to words she spelled correctly. He also made notes where she needed to write a lowercase letter instead of an upper case letter.

Then he showed me his spelling key.

His handwriting, by the way, is far more legible than mine. I looked at him, so full of pride, and my heart exploded with so much love for these two little creatures who have so much love for each other. Even though they may fight like crazy, they also care, protect, and nurture beyond words.

My son is an amazing kid, but the role he was born to play? Big Brother. He excels in that role far beyond this mother’s expectations, everyday. I am unbelievably honored to be his mother.

It’s these random moments of goodness — these itty bitty moments of pure, unexpected joys of parenting– that I strive to document. Being a parent is an amazing gift, and in the crazy, challenging journey of raising kids, I hope to never take moments like these for granted.

BWAHAHA. If you know me – or are a fellow parent entrepreneur – you know that sentence does not just roll off the tongue.

For the past six years as a serial entrepreneur, I have traveled only about 4-6 times a year, and most of those travels have been for work. Lots of conferences. When you are an entrepreneur and you do any work at all with the online world, it feels like The Thing To Do. We are made to believe that we *should* attend conferences, speak at conferences, party/network at conferences. While I enjoy them immensely and they certainly have their place, I have decided to do something radical instead…

You see, this year things have been a little different. For the first time in six years, I have a boss other than myself. I closed one of my two businesses. My family also took our first bonafide vacation together since our daughter was born 4 years ago — a vacation to someplace tropical, just us (not to visit family, because we all know that’s NO vacation, no matter how much you all love each other!), and not to a place linked to anything remotely close to being work-related.

Something happened on that vacation: I got hooked. I want more.

My kids are hooked. They want more. My daughter talks about Maui every single day. Every. Single. Freakin. Day. It’s been SEVEN months since we were there, folks.

After a little thought and absolutely no convincing, I have decided to declare 2012 The Year of No Conferences.

OMG.

But what about…? Or can’t I at least try to go to…??

No. No conferences.

(ok, fine, if you ask me to speak at your conference, and I love you to pieces and adore everything your conference stands for,  I just may have to make an exception, but otherwise…)

Conferences shall be replaced by VACATIONS.

I like the sound of that. I think my husband would approve. I know my kids will.

photo taken at the Fairmont Kea Lani resort in Wailea, Maui

Something happened on our trip to Maui. I liked what the island delivered, and now I want more.

So on tap & in the works for 2012 so far:
1. Vegas trip with The Girls
2. Vegas trip with The Mister
3. Europe trip with the whole family (to visit family, so you know… sort of vacation…)
4. Mexico vaca with The Mister (holy cow! that’s two vacas with just us two in one year! woohoo!! omg. I don’t think we’ve ever taken a non-work trip for long w/o the kids. panic. panic. it’ll be ok, right?)

I am absolutely GIDDY just thinking about these trips!!

Let’s face it: I’m getting older. I can’t work 80 hours and answer 10,000+ emails a week (seriously) with an easy smile like I used to. I get tired and run down. I NEED these vacations. We ALL do. Real vacations. Not ones tied to conferences or work in any way. Just playtime. Me time. Family time. FUN time.

2012: THE YEAR OF THE VACATION!  Who’s with me?!

So I would love to know: where have your favorite family vacations been?

Once in a while, when I am working late, I will walk into the living room to find a little love note of sorts addressed to me from my kids, placed strategically on the stairs for me to find.

Tonight, it was a story:

Sometimes it’s a drawing, with “I love you mom”

Sometimes it’s just a little piece of paper with “I love you mom” with no drawing, or a drawing without any words at all.

Always, it makes me smile.

I don’t work as much as I used to, which I know a lot of people don’t believe, but it’s true. With two kids (and the older I get!), it’s a lot harder to do the 9pm – 3am third shift then get up at 6:30 or 7 to get kids ready for school.

But when I do have to work late, like tonight when every single part of my professional and personal life is demanding something of me right now, I feel like my kids are always there, cheering me on, enveloping me in big bear hugs while they sleep and I type, design, strategize, plan, console, and code away. Their notes are sweet and thoughtful; they make me so proud and honored that these are my kids — kids who write their mother love notes without any prompting, who reciprocate in this silly cheesy mom ritual of sending visual “I love you” cues when we’re not together.

I love what I do — every insanely busy nonstop bit of it. I love it all even more because I think it allows my kids to love me not just for the fact that I am their mother, but for who I am. My work – all of it – is a huge part of who I am. I make no excuses for it, and I am proud of all that I do. I want my kids to see that, and I want them to find the same passion and pride for work in their lives.

The late nights are admittedly getting harder to handle, but finding little love notes at unexpected times makes it worth it.

Today started out with our usual hanging out in the kitchen. Coffee. Breakfast. Workouts. Food Network. (I work out while watching Food Network. It’s the only way, people. The only way.).

Then we headed to out to ride bikes and play some football, which is always interesting when four and seven year olds are making up the rules.

After running some errands, we headed over to Oregon Heritage Farms. Gala apples were ready, and galas are my absolute favorite apples. Apples are also my son’s favorite food.

The farm also has goats, a hay maze, a large bouncy pumpkin the kids could play in, and a cute little store with lots of locally-made goods & treats.

After fun at the farm, we stopped by Ponzi Vineyards to pick up our cellar club shipment. Several groups were there wine tasting on this beautiful September afternoon, including couples, a party of girlfriends, lots of families, and general groups of friends. The vineyard has gorgeous tall trees with lots of tables and two bocce ball courts — plenty of places to enjoy their wines on beautiful grounds. Today they were setting up for a wedding, and I couldn’t help but feel all warm & fuzzy thinking about what an exciting day it was for everyone involved.

My daughter stopped to pick flowers and make some wishes.

Back home, there was lawn mowing, water gun loading & unloading, football watching, blogging. With several hours left in the day, the only decisions we really have left to make are:

1. What’s for dinner?
2. What dessert should we make with our fresh Gala apples?
3. Which wine should we enjoy tonight?

Like I said, I love weekends where we live.

What do you love best about weekends where you live?

I stopped blogging about motherhood for a while. I came back. I started my design & lifestyle blog Urban Bliss Life, blogged about mom entrepreneurship on my (recently closed) Power M.O.B. blog, and now… here we are again. Back to blogging about all of it.

When I read my first Maternity to Madness blog post from September 20, 2004, my heart aches a little. I remember, and yet I honestly can no longer relate – at least, not in the same way I used to. The nursing, the pumping, the colic, the spitup — those are marks of motherhood I no longer wear. My own words bring about pangs of nostalgia but also sighs of relief; my kids are now 4.5 and 7.5 years old. I love these ages, not just where they are at in their progression as human beings but where I am at in my progression. I love where I am now as a mother, as a business owner, as a woman

It’s taken a bit of getting used to, being a mom of older kids, but I like it. A lot.

Yet with every stage, comes new questions, new territory to explore, new challenges to deal with. I need this blog back because I need to work through them not just by myself, and not just with my husband, but with others who are going through it, or those who have been there, done that, and those who will be here eventually. I am not so stubborn as to think that I can do this mothering thing all on my own; I need all of you, too. Whether you read and respond or not, the connection is a necessary one for me.

{above: Maternity to Madness Blog header from 2008}

This particular blog is for me, and in some part, for my kids. I want them to know how much I loved the honor and gift of being their mother, but also how much is involved with that love: the sleeplessness, the guilt, the questioning, the frustration, the mistakes, the celebrations. All of it is enveloped in a love so deep, so powerful, that if I were to write out my love for them every second of every day it still would not be enough. So here, in spurts, is a little piece of that love.

So… hello, Maternity to Madness blog, my old friend. We’ve been together seven years and I have a feeling we will be together for quite a few more.

A lot has happened in the 10 years from the day the world around me stood still. And yet, much has stayed the same.

I will not watch the anniversary tributes, read the full-color, multi-page coverage of the day, nor engage in public remembrance activities. None will heal my soul nor help my heart; none will change the past nor shape the future. I am simply going to remember, pay my private respects, and continue to love and live in the moment as the events of that day served as a harsh reminder to do each day.

There is no event that can break me, nor you, nor a country. We are ten years strong, and moving on. Not because we are heartless, but because we are human, we are survivors, and we honor those who lost their lives by living ours as best we can.

Still Waiting (original post from 9/11/09)

There are days when everything seems just as it should be, but at the same time, you know nothing is as it seems. Today is one of those days. Same time, same date, different year. And each year, I am overwhelmed with emotion, overcome with tears on its eve, and then again as it passes into a new day.

And it does, miraculously, always pass into a new day.

Eight years ago today, I had just gotten out of the shower, when my husband said in a calm voice “Honey, come in here.” His voice never scares me, but in those seconds it did, because I didn’t recognize it. Moving into the bedroom I saw him watching the tv. On the tv was an image of the Twin Towers. There was smoke. Not a second later, we watched the second plane hit. My heart stopped. I counted the seconds.

For the next several minutes the world stopped and time stood still.

Then I went to work. Crisis communications being part of my job.

I made phone calls. Some of them went through. Most hit a busy signal. I waited to hear from family members, friends, co-workers, students, colleagues, media contacts. I arranged for more televisions to come in. Whether with friends or strangers, that day we all watched and cried and hugged and wondered. Together.

More than anything, I waited and waited and waited to hear those busy signals turn to voices saying they were ok.

In the days that followed, as phone service was restored, most were.

But not all.

Too many lives lost in an instant. I cannot write about what it is like to lose a parent, spouse, or child in 9/11. I cannot fathom that deep a loss and am still constantly in awe of the strength of those who endured such a loss that day. I was not there to experience the chaos or witness what New Yorkers went through first-hand, nor able to assist as bravely and immediately as our firefighters, paramedics, police and other disaster relief workers.

I was not there, and yet, I was. We all were. In many ways, we still are.

On the anniversary of 9/11, it is difficult for me to conduct life as normal. Every other day of the year, fine. But this day, every year, I am struck with so much emotion that I am almost frozen. I remember.

I feel like I am still waiting for my phone to ring. I am still waiting to hear those voices who never had a chance to call back.

Today we said goodbye to our beloved dog, Thor.

My heart hurts.

He was pure joy and unconditional love and blessed our lives for the past 12 of his 14 years.

He was my road trip partner and kept me company traveling around four states over two years.

He made me feel safe and comforted in a dark house the years my husband worked the overnight shift as a morning TV show producer.

When we had kids, he graciously gave up his space in the spotlight and was the gentlest, sweetest, most cuddly furry big brother to our children.

He’s been a part of our lives for so long. It’s really, really hard to imagine our family without him.

I miss him. As the kids run around the house playing, as we plan dinner and tomorrow’s contributions to a BBQ, I feel the activity and go through the motions but my heart is hugging him, laying still, sleeping…but not.

Even though we’ve endured a long, sad goodbye for several months now, it is a loss that still surprises and stings. The empty feeling of the house, this life, without my buddy.

There may be other dogs in our future, but there will never be another dog like Thor.

Rest in peace, sweet pup. Thanks for being such an incredible friend & companion. We love you always. You will be in our hearts & minds forever.

Ever have one of those weeks where life swings up and down so fast that just as you get comfortable enjoying the gorgeous views from rising high, gravity pulls you back down to a new low?

I had one of those weeks. Not bad, just full of constant ups and downs.

But that’s life, right? Part of the beauty is the challenge of pumping your legs hard enough to swing back up even higher.

At the park yesterday, I sat on a swing next to my kids. After they hopped off to climb the rock wall & swing from the monkey bars, I stayed on.

It was a sunny Northwest afternoon, with puffy Simpsons clouds and sparrows chirping about. I kid you not.

I pumped my legs back and forth with my eyes on the sky (and my secret set of Mom Eyes On the Side of My Head on the kids).

And with each time I touched that beautiful sky with my toes, I let go. My smile widened. My breath slowed. Emotional weight fell to the ground.

I was free. It felt fabulous.

Sometimes, we just need to remove ourselves from the world. Get a different perspective. Let the Mom, Wife, Boss, Employee, Friend, Caregiver in you sit on the sidelines for a bit and let You swing into the sky.

You know how your kids smile when they’re swinging? Try it sometime. You deserve that smile too.

Take Teacher Appreciation Week. Oh, it’s THIS week! As in, it started yesterday.

Riiiiight.

Oops. I got nada.

What I do have in abundance is high quality paper, a couple of awesome printers, a brain that tends to be more creative when I don’t have time to over-think & second guess my ideas, and access to lots of fun software. So this afternoon before dinner, I made these teacher flash cards while my kids drew pictures for their teachers.

The kids helped choose the adjectives to describe teachers. I admittedly helped steer them in the direction of words like “creative” over my daughter’s choice word for the letter “c”: “carrot.” I think her brain is still in Easter mode…

Since I’m all about sharing, I made printable PDFs of the flash cards that you can print out at home. Click the link at the bottom of the post to download the PDF. **UPDATE: Due to demand and my super busy work schedule, these are no longer available for free download. They will soon be available in my Urban Bliss Design online shop!”**

I’ve also included one teacher note that you can write in your child’s teacher’s name and there’s also space for your child to sign. The note is shown here with a picture my son drew for his teacher (their names are blurred out):

We’re giving these out tomorrow with a jar of my super chocolatey moist brownies. The recipe for the brownies will be posted on Friday!

See what you can do in half an hour? You don’t even need half an hour though: in just minutes, you can download the flash cards that I designed. Print them onto nice thick cardstock, cut them out leaving a slight white border around the edges of each card to give them that classic flash card look, use a rounded corner hole punch for each as I did if you’d like, and then stack them in order with a bow and give to your child’s teacher.

We all know our teachers deserve so much. I always wish I could do so much more to honor them and thank them for helping us raise our children with solid education and great care. Thank you teachers everywhere. You all make such a difference every day.

**UPDATE: SO glad that so many folks have liked these cards! Unfortunately, due to demand and my super busy work schedule, these are no longer available for free download. They will soon be available in my Urban Bliss Design online shop!**

This printable is for personal use only. Any commercial use, altering of the design, or sharing of the file is strictly prohibited.