Monday, July 23, 2012

How do you say "TRIP OF A LIFETIME" in Spanish?


Will and I are back from our incredible Spain vacation and it was amazing, inspiring, relaxing, exhausting, and just overall fantastic. 

I have so many beautiful pictures and stories to share that I am fairly certain I could rename this blog Feeling Right at Home in Spain, so I’ll try to contain myself a bit.  But for now, I am in full-on reentry mode at Casa Homiller—laundry, groceries, cleaning, cooking, and just general responsibilities that I so carelessly said goodbye to 10 days ago are now rearing their ugly (but adorable) little heads. 

So, until I can gather my last functioning brain cell and put together a better blog post, I will leave you with some pictures of our adventures:

Sevilla

Granada

Benalmadena (and the beautiful bride and groom - the entire reason for our trip!)

Gibraltar 

Cordoba

Madrid


Happy Monday, everyone!

Thursday, July 12, 2012

Adios, Amigos!


Granada, Spain



Will and I are off today for our Spanish adventure.  I hope to return to you in ten days’ time with beautiful pictures, stories of our cultural escapades, and speaking a bit more Spanish than those two words above.

Until then, please funnel all ‘we love you’ and ‘good behavior’ vibes to Frances and George.  And all ‘good luck’ well-wishes to my parents, Will’s parents and the Pyles.

See everyone soon (but not too soon)!

Wednesday, July 11, 2012

Breaking Pointe


Did anyone else watch Breaking Pointe



For those of you who don't know what I am talking about, Ballet West (in Salt Lake City, Utah) allowed cameras, producers and editors to invade their territory for six weeks last spring, resulting in a seven (or so) part television show about the ins and outs of being a professional ballet dancer.  I was hesitant to watch it primarily because I always get a little misty-eyed about dance and didn’t know if I was emotionally equipped to watch.  I was also concerned that the editors may take a little more creative license than I could stomach, creating drama where there was none and failing to show the actual stress of life as a dancer.

Overall, I was pleasantly surprised.  The opening credits promised the show would portray the dance world as “cut throat” and “competitive;” and I suppose it did on some level.  But for the most part it showed the dancers as kind, supportive, focused, flawed and hardest on themselves—exactly as I remember.  Dancers are their own worst critics and this company was no exception.

My one grumble with the show was its lack of emphasis on weight, which for many (maybe most?) of us dancers is the absolute hardest thing about professional ballet.  The five or so dancers the show chose to focus on were stick-thin and for the first episodes their weight was never discussed.  When it finally was mentioned in passing, the dancers laughed at how much they ate.  Dancers, they said, have to eat a lot because of how many calories they burn in rehearsals and performances.  Hamburgers, candy, croissant sandwiches, milkshakes, and ice cream were all consumed on what appeared to be a daily basis.  And by the looks of it, these dancers were telling the truth—they did indeed burn off all of the calories they ate and were naturally thin.

Unfortunately, that is not a reality for the masses.  Dance burns calories, yes, but your metabolism adjusts to the rigor and for those of us not naturally thin, we were forced to watch each of those calories consumed like a hawk.  And it still was not enough.  Eating disorders or, at the very least, disordered eating permeates deeply into the dance world and it is unfair to suggest that simply dancing all day will fix those pudgy limbs, chubby core, and soft exterior.  It won’t.  It can’t for the body types that are naturally muscular or rounder than the ideal ballet look.  A ballet dancer’s weight is hugely important and I’m not sure why it wasn’t given its due attention.  Maybe the subject matter is too complicated to address in an hour-long reality show; maybe the editors chose not to deal with an issue that didn’t directly affect those five dancers that starred in the show; maybe Ballet West is blessed with a group of natural ballet bodies; or maybe I am 15 years out from my former dancing days and my information (and memory) is outdated.

I hope the show continues, although I have no idea whether it was intended to go beyond those seven episodes.  I loved being able to relive some of my wonderful years with a ballet company through the eyes of kids who are over a decade younger than me (ugh).  But my one request (since I’m sure they’ll be asking me!) would be a realistic focus on a dancer struggling with her weight.  Yes, dance is hard—the endless rehearsals, the sore muscles, the unexpected and heartbreaking injuries, the tech weeks, the castings, the lean days leading up to Friday’s payday, and the competition.  But for some of us, weight trumped everything else.  When our weight was good, life was good; when our weight was ‘bad,’ life was unbearable.  It’s a tough reality, but that is the dance world.  That is what you sign up for when you are lucky enough to call yourself a ballet dancer.  And to underemphasize that is doing a great disservice to the next crop of dancers.



Beautiful girls of all sizes.

Happy Wednesday, everyone!

Monday, July 9, 2012

A little of what we've been up to


Will’s parents hosted a birthday celebration this past weekend:



Will’s mother also prepared a “seashore” dessert, perfect for little helping hands:



I can’t help but call this little guy Baby Justin, but he’s much more boy than baby now:



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Nana stayed with us for several days last week during Lynchburg’s blackout. 




Nine days after the storm (and nine days into 100+ degree temperatures), my parents finally have power back.  I’m not sure they ever want to leave the lovely confines of their air conditioned house again.

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My mother’s departing gift to me:




“Thank you” flowers.  It doesn’t get much more beautiful than pink roses in full bloom.

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Sometimes, at the end of one of “those” days, it is easier to just let the kids run around in their underpants:




What is it about disrobing that creates instant energy and happiness in children?

George, the blur.  I can't help it - George in his undies makes me smile.


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Will’s sweet Aunt Alison just recently passed away; we celebrated her life a week ago today:

George, Alison and Grandma Lee (June 2011)



I only knew her these last 10 years, but she was a remarkable person.  Her memorial service was filled with lovely words from those who loved her, a testament that she touched so many.  We will miss you always, Aunt Alison!

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Frances drew this picture of the two of us:





I am most impressed with the eyebrows.  I think she kind of nailed them.

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T minus 3 days until Spain:





I’m going to miss my little munchkins (who, wouldn’t you know it, are behaving like angels this week), but I’m very, very excited about our upcoming adventures.  I am most worried about George, my little shadow, but I know he will be in good hands:



In ten days’ time, he will no doubt become Nana’s little shadow.

Happy Monday, everyone!

Friday, July 6, 2012

And once again, all is right with the world


Why, you ask?  Because for the next 3 ½ months, Will and I are the same age.  Or maybe a slightly less selfish thing to say is, “Happy Birthday to my wonderful husband!


What many of you may not know is that, technically speaking, Will is almost 9 months younger than me.  As an aside, this concept completely eludes Frances and George who insist that Daddy is a LOT older than Mommy because he is a good 13 inches taller.  I have yet to correct them on that.  But for those of you who are not fooled by our statures, Will was indeed born when I was already 8 ½ months old.  I was crawling around, pulling up, sleeping through the night, eating everything that my three older siblings would give me; and my tall, strapping husband was a mere babe.


You would think that this small age difference would never be noticed—except that when you are 8 ½ months apart in age, this also means we were a full year apart in school.  Will graduated high school in 1995, people.  I graduated in 1994.  Am I making any sense here?  Do you remember the students in the grade below you in high school?  Yea, me neither.  And I’m not trying to be snobby at all—far from it.  I was about as “uncool” as you can get in high school.  But I was at least older than the kids in the grade below me.  I had age on my side.  Until I married my husband, that is, and advanced age was no longer a plus.


Now, for 8 1/2 months out of the year, I feel like an old woman. 


So, to help me feel on (somewhat) equal footing, my birthday present to Will this year was husband/wife personal training sessions:



[Pumping Up With Hanz and Franz - one of my all-time favorite Saturday Night Live skits.]


What I failed to remember though is that while on paper one of us may seem more athletic than the other (active runner vs. 80-hours-a-week attorney; former swimmer vs. former Latin club treasurer; dancer vs. concert pianist), Will is freakishly strong and surprisingly coordinated for someone built like Goofy.


In all seriousness, we’ve had a great time so far in our three sessions (two individual, one couple) and can’t wait for the next round.  The big catalyst for this present (besides the obvious health benefits) was so that Will and I could spend a little more couple time together.  I often miss those early years of our relationship—the constant togetherness, the impromptu afternoon drives, the long, long walks we used to take on the weekends daydreaming about our future family, and the simple ability to hold hands whenever we wanted.  The hand-holding might be what I miss the most.  There is something special, intimate and equally innocent in that simple gesture and Will has the perfect hands for doing just that—soft, strong, but always warm.  Don’t get me wrong, I am head-over-heels in love with my children and have an incredibly wonderful life that I wouldn’t trade for anything.  But I miss Will and his hands, which are in much more demand now that we have four tiny palms (and four paws) waiting in line.


And now for at least an hour a week, I get him back!





Happy birthday, Will!

Thursday, July 5, 2012

Our 4th of July


We spent our holiday at my version of heaven:


 On the water

Frances and George found their own version of heaven:



Ignore George’s stoic expression.  He loved it.  How do we know?  He spent the rest of the day saying, “I love the big red boat; I love the big red boat,” almost star struck to be still be in its presence.

A huge “thank you” to our friends, Lynne and Bryan, and their families for hosting another great holiday celebration.

Happy Thursday (is it Friday yet?), everyone!

Tuesday, July 3, 2012

When the cat's away


This past Friday night, I escaped to my parent’s house in Lynchburg for what was supposed to be a weekend of “me” time—no children, no responsibilities, and my Kindle downloaded with four new books.  Little did anyone know at the time that Friday evening would bring some of the worst thunderstorms in the history of that small city resulting in a complete black out, fallen trees, downed power lines and blocked roadways.

These pictures (courtesy of the News & Advance) can't even capture how much destruction there is; it looks like a war zone.
 

Needless to say, with a forecast of triple-digit temperatures for the next foreseeable days, I hightailed it back home Saturday midday as soon as I could (followed closely by my mother and her dogs) with a renewed appreciation for air conditioning and working stoplights.  I arrived home happy but exhausted and Will grabbed my bags from my hand and ordered me upstairs to our bedroom so I could take a nap.  I didn’t put up much of a fight.

Four hours later, I emerged from our room.  I kid you not.  I don’t think I’ve taken a four-hour nap since law school, but I felt like a new person (which did not include an allegedly responsible mother of two preschoolers.  A true mental vacation).

In my drowsy state, I came downstairs to find the kids and their clever father had made this video:



I love my husband for many, many reasons, but his quirky sense of humor is high on the list.  And when he told me that he Goodwill-ed many of those friends during this process, well, that’s enough to make this girl swoon.

Happy Tuesday, everyone!