Moving onward....

is not always upward.

And where I am in life, that is just fine by me.

Even moving backward.

Lately is not entirely wayward.

Currently in mental negotiations.

Moving onwards or backwards...

a move. STUCK. on. hold.

How many babies in the Otterlei home.....?

"Ethan, how many babies do you want?"

... we've had this conversation many times.

He gives me the peace-sign... "Two."

Without fail, I jump into my tantrum...

"Two.... no, that's too predicable. Freddy goes to football and Betty goes to ballet. Three, we need three to add to the mix. Throw things off!" I was the third wonder in my family... still holds no standing in my defense.

"Well, you would count as the third child financially speaking."

--- blink --- blink --- blink ---

Trying to decide if this is a dig at my endulgent side or a brilliant joke from hubs... you can only imagine what kind of screaming and tickle torchure ensued!

well, wait a minute.... 3rd child financially speaking... hmmmm. ;)

Love. These. Moments.

Dying beautifully

They say you die the way you live. If that is the case, oh my. This girl will be going out in true DRAAAAMA style. Being around a lot of precious new life and untimely death, it has made me think about both ends of the spectrum.

Dying beautifully.

Living beautifully.

In that order. One in the same.

Thank you Jesus.

Happy day for you Cody!!!! If I were there, I would say........

A more caring, compassionate, sarcastic, constantly humored, stubborn, loyal friend could not match that of Mr. Cody Hawkins.

I met Cody through church, and life as I once knew it would never be the same. Cody was the healthy mix of boy-man and…… woman. He could run a mean mile, set up a tent like non-other and yes, dye my locks a perfect shade of black-purple-red like no bodies business. His salon name was ‘Toby Toledo’.

Cody became the big brother/personal hair colorist I never had. In our Council Road Church group, he would constantly entertain, listen, encourage and valiantly live out his goal of ruffling feathers where ever he went. However, when life got tough… he was there; an anchor of support.

As rare as you are, Cody, I knew this day would come. The countless hours of wanting to meet the future Mrs. Hawkins would be in vain. Watching your life come together, piece by piece, has been a constant, “Praise Jesus!!!!”…. truly a testimony of God’s provision.

Jennie, you have been prayed for, anticipated, and now celebrated.

You are marrying a man of RICH RICH character. And from the looks of things, he is joining his FAR BETTER HALF!!!

Ethan and I are so sad to miss such a HUGE day but are celebrating you both from afar!

The invitation to Minneapolis is open, ANYTIME!

Love and many many Blessings over your marriage!

Cheers!

Round and Round......

A view into the mind of a God-fearing, failed but still striving perfectionist, ambitious, dramatic, anxiety struck, emotional, driven, headstrong woman.

On a typical day I am a dial that spins and spins and spins. From one piece to the next.

Today I have landed on 'present'.... I am present. Present is so rarely an attribute yet oddly comfortable.

But today I am present.

Yes indeed, a present in itself.

"Potty Training Tips for a Stubborn Child".....

.... is what caught his eye as we were awaiting my fate. Such a serious moment, holding our breath, wiping some tears and all he could muster up was, "I bet your mom needed this article with you...."... this coming from a Business Journal man.

With that, an argument erupted in the waiting room about who was more stubborn.... the needle needed to pop the tension. Round and round we went.

These arguments have a way of going straight to a special place in my heart where I delight in knowing he loves me... and in this scenario.... loves me enough to connect my 28 yr. old self with a stubborn-potty-training-child article.

This story ends happily though.

lymphoma free, lupus free, cancer free....

and of course....

I'm more stubborn than he is.

Personal Trainer.... how much do you charge to tone up my booty..... and my life?

I love our treadmill. He's so fancy I'm sure I could find a button for cooking, cleaning and ironing. But to rekindle our exhausting relationship.... during the summer.... mmmmm. Unlikely.

With the passing of Spring and now into Summer, I realized I missed Spring Cleaning. WHERE WAS I?

My brain is tangled in cob webs, my muscles gloved in comfort food, my emotions are here-there-everywhere, and my mission(szzzzzz)in life are.... well.... on a hiatus.

I need to get back on track and FAST!

Researching personal trainers right now.

"How much would you... ahhhh.... charge to.... ahhhhh.... get me back into a size 2 and think more clearly and eat my veggies and give to the poor and write my Grandma more letters and saturate myself in scripture and host more parties and make more home cooked meals and cut more fresh flowers and crave my 64 ounces of water........

....oh, you DON'T do all that?

....getting me into a size 2 is just fine. I'll slowly start Spring Cleaning myself... myself."

Delighting.....

This morning I find myself delighting, extra-overflowing-oozing-blushing-fluttering-delighting in my husband. Seeing him at my office and introducing him to co-workers made me explode with pride, excitement and blubbering over in love.

He's my greatest joy, my most treasured possession that I thankfully do not/cannot contain. He is a beautiful masterpiece.

One whom I hold most dearly, respect to the fullest, admire above the finest and love until I'm weak in the knees, forget where I am, forget where I've been and feel my heart race like never before.

I love my love.

1-2-3

Breath breath breath. Blink blink blink.

Show signs of life.

I am alive. I am not stressed. I am not governed by change. I fight against change. I mean I love change. I LOVE change. 1-2-3. I LOVE CHANGE!

In the midst of day 11 and counting and things are still being flipped and flopped including my stomach and hives. Why can't things be simple. Just don't make things complicated and I will be okay. I won't be mean, I won't be stressed, I won't be tense.

Great a night with the girls and maybe, just maybe after a few drinks they will recongnize me as the calm-cool-collected Reiner Lynn..... 1-2-3. Calm-Cool-Collected.

Far from it! I need a massage, a bathing suite, a facial appointment, a father-daughter song, rehearsal shoes, hair cut..........

AHHHHHH!!!! Change!

Breath, breath, breath. Blink, blink, blink.....

Kickin' the Bucket

My love and I were riding home after treating ourselves to 'The Bucket List'.

"Baby, what's on your bucket list?"

After a moment, he turns to me and says, "Babe, I'd like to think I chase my bucket every day."

Hmmmmm.

My heart warms, my cheeks blush as we sit in silence..... taking in every second of our beautiful drive home through the lakes trees and into our dreams.

Words from a beautiful man....

Mother-Stubborn

Cheers to the New Year! Cheers! Cheers! Cheers!

Along with champagne, dancing, and a kiss from my love- came a mouth-full of stubbornness! Raw-Ugly-Uncontainable STUBBORNNESS. Ending one fabulous year only to enter another full of excitement, change and love.... a stitchy 8 lettered word is threatening to eat up all the bliss.

So, a few New Year's Remarks.

I pledge to take deep deep breaths through challenges/challenging people. I will look at one's heart and not an one moment. I will remember that 'these two shall pass'. I will choose to love. Choose to forgive. Remember that though I try, I am not perfect. Why expect that of others? Choose love. I will choose love. I stubbornly choose to love.

My New Year's Resolution:

Lose weight..... lose the stubborn weight.

Heart Shaped Sandwiches

Her amazing (unrecognized) sense of perfection in life is equally balanced by her socially flawed love for garlic, raw. In the wee hours of the night, I could hear her clicky-clack on the hardwood floors as she prepared for countless parties in her nightgown and little shoes, I would find sweet little notes in my homemade lunches, sandwiches always cut in hearts, her beautiful bows ordained my perfect pony.... and her open-arms would wrap me up after a full day of playing with bugs, snakes, mud, and who knows what else. Always love. Always.

Mothers are there not only to nurture, but to protect. What happens to us when we must protect ourselves? I don't know. I am 24 and still in need of protection. Constant protection. Perhaps that comes with being the youngest of 3 daughters. Perhaps that comes with being human.

One day I too will become a mother and will delightfully fill those nurturing protective shoes. Well, each day we must take steps in filling our own... for ourselves. Though my precious tiny mother does a beautiful job, we, individually are to choose our protective footwear and slip into them deliberately, constantly.

Inspired and re-convicted.... I must sign off from my dear blog. I have loved entertaining you all from the angle of my keys. I have delighted in sharing my unique-genuinely-authentic adventures, overly dramatized view of life, love, and heels. This is my step of protection. Fighting to stand tall, I have succumbed to the vulnerability of those curious eyes I so fear.... fighting to hold onto this one last link. I am releasing. Let the praises be, I am releasing.

I will lay down my pen, slip back into my heels, and grab my new precious son and march on. I think I have this life thing in the bag.... but marching in heels, raising a 4-legged royal blooded son, and meeting Mr. Cardiologist for coffee, now that's a challenge.

A challenge I will start keeping to myself.... or will I?

Now I like a good challenge, but get real! A juicy column just may be in my rotating world of opportunity. After all, 'Socially Flawless' hopefuls, there still is so much to learn!

My mom always said, 'You can never be too prepared!'

What do you get when you throw in a cozy restaurant, four glowing girls, glass of wine, drama from all our lives, and a four hour span? You are promised to leave with an arm load of mindful/mindless treasures.....

After a few glasses, Mrs. TV brought forth the best of warnings!

Being prepared for the worst is just a way of life. Driven by the bubbles and a classic SNL episode, we were all ears. Mrs. TV's warning reached down into the core of our beings and resulted in all of us running home and digging through our photos.

Mr. and Mrs. TV had just covered the tragic subject of 'what to do if the other went missing'. Before their conversation was over, news broke and pictures-galore flooded their TV screen. A woman had gone missing and her husband was clearly distraught. Distraught.... yes..... because she was missing.... probably. What clearly devastated him was the wrong picture had been released for the whole world to see.

In her 80's bangs, fuchsia lipstick, over-sized sweatshirt, and static-stricken hair- he knew that even if she was given the chance to return home, she would succumb to fierce public humiliation!!!!! He would be held responsible for letting the wrong picture leak.

Mrs. TV knew that she was going to do everything in her power to avoid such an embarrassment.

So, while we have the chance, be prepared. Go home, dig through all your pictures, and choose wisely. Gather those near and dear and show them which picture you would want released for the world to see. This could be the difference between life and....... life after the rotating ugly picture.

That night... in a cozy Italian restaurant... after a few glasses of wine... we all vowed to save ourselves from public disgrace. Each one of us has our 'Just Incase' picture safely displayed and ready to swing over to the police at any given time.

Choose wisely my dear blog-grazers. You just never know.........

timing isn't everything

The things we want in a jiffy, we inturn must make a tizzy.

Things we could do without, they arrive without even a pout.

1. A sparkling husband and wife went on a date no more romantic than a trip to the dentist's office. What was great were their polished teeth, what was not so great was her new development of TMJ. Her new bed-side best friend: Mouth Guard was also ready for pickup that same day. This blasted thing could not come too late.

2. 'Goldie' (as we all knew her as) was the dream bikini. A healthy mix of brown and gold: the perfect blend. Anxiously awaiting its arrival for a scheduled trip with Mr. Benz, of course it would come in much too late. We waited.... and we waited..... and we waited. Long after the relationship and primetime sun/body conditioning, it would grace my mailbox. Oh to hell with Vicky's.... it will have to await next summers romantic getaways. The Vicky's associate knew this bathing beauty could not come too soon, but in turn came way too late.

3. Why when we need a dress for a certain occasion, the dry cleaners can only have it ready by Thursday, but when we have a boring cardigan they can have it next day?

4. Sparing no expense with hair appointments, I would give many a-things for a timely hair appointment. Because I go to Ms. Beauty herself, a month is the typical wait. Going to 'Dr. Female' no time at all.... of course groping would come before a deep conditioning.

5. Have you ever found a piece of jewelry that defines you? Well, flighty sounding, yes. Fearful of it running out of my life, yes. I will not risk this to the 'what ifs'. In this situation, timing is everything and I think I shall run over there and buy up my treasure before it too becomes an untimely disappointment worth pouting about.

Free-falling in Dallas

Wrapping and packing..... and wondering when it would all end. Brad Mehldau jazzed us through the morning as mounding boxes began to move us out of the house. A dear college friend and I packed the weekend away.... all the while discussing the latest and greatest, the past pains, potential future pains, and most of all, questioning her need for all those darn blenders we were uncovering. I ask you, who needs 5 different blenders........?

The quest of moving into their very own, spacious, customized home.... was met with sad hesitation of giving up their small, one bathroom, quaint cottage. The floor to ceiling windows, thick wood floors, and pleasant aroma of the years will soon be abandoned. With my ever-present optimistic angst to move on to bigger and better.... I naturally expected the same from her. However, in all her bold ambition, dream of great things, and a fellow lover of glamorous ambiance, 'bigger and better' was overshadowed by her grand beginnings in this tiny house.

It amazes me how hard it is to move on.... let go of the old and move on with the new. The new most often if not always being better.... why do we struggle to loosen the grips only to reach for the next? We stagger in the face of uncertainty. The brief moment of free-fall.

The pressing lesson that I have years and years of relearning is that we MUST move on. We must move on to grow. For Mr. and Mrs. Cottage..... their plans of a precious family entitle them to this exciting but hesitant move. For me, though I LOVE my life in Oklahoma, the essence of moving on just may entitle me to a great move to Europe.

Hearts always content to just stay and safely be. The Lord in all His infamous glory pushing us onward, moving us out of our safe cottages, to be met with hesitant-glorious 'bigger and better'.

Moving on to bigger and better, absolutely...... sometimes met with minor longings of the past, absolutely. Trusting that whatever Divine road I take will lead ultimately to bigger and better..... it already has and it will continue. Just a day of memories and a day of moving....... on.