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Why don't you go Sew Retro?

By Rosie Molinary on August 15, 2010

There are a few blog posts that I wrote my first year of blogging that remain my most read posts every week, years later. One of them is a post I wrote about how learning to sew can positively impact one’s body image. Growing up, my mom made all of my dresses and skirts (this was into my 20s). I can’t recall a store-bought dress– not prom dresses, church dresses or school event dresses. If you’ve seen an old picture of me on here in a dress, my mamacita made it. Hence, I have an affinity for sewing and a few years ago even signed up for a sewing class only to arrive on day one to learn that I needed to bring my own sewing machine each week. Bummer as I wanted to try sewing before making an investment in the hobby. Nonetheless, sewing has stayed on my mind over the years which is why I was just delighted to discover this book, Sew Retro: 25 Vintage-Inspired Projects for the Modern Girl & A Stylish History of the Sewing Revolution. I was even more delighted to be able to ask author Judi Ketteler some questions about sewing, her book, and self-awareness. She’s thoughtful, has some great books to recommend, and is just inspiring! Check out her interview below.

How did your love of DIY projects, sewing, and design develop?
My mom had always sewed, and as a little girl, I loved going to the fabric store with her (I was always particularly fascinated by the wall of buttons!). By the time I was a teenager, I realized that I wanted to actually try it myself. She taught me, and then I also took home ec (an elective that was no longer very popular, but it sounded way better to me than some math elective!) I was hooked right away! I worked at a fabric store all through college, and got to meet other like-minded, crafty girls my age. It felt like sort of a cult movement back then (the early 90s), at least in Cincinnati, where I live. I never stopped sewed completely, but after college, I didn’t quite have the same passion for it. I’d do projects here and there, but I didn’t rediscover it and fall in love with it again until my early 30s, when I had my first house. I also realized that fabric and patterns had come a long way from the boring calicos of the 90s.

When and why did you decide to translate that love into Sew Retro?

I started to think about how I had made a sort of journey back to sewing, which made me start thinking about how generations of women have made their own little journeys, both away from sewing and back to sewing. I’ve always had an interest in women’s history and the history of the domestic (I have a Master’s in literature, and my thesis was all about 19th century domestic fiction). At first, I thought I would just write about the 19th century, but then I realized that sewing had a much larger story than that—a story that continues today. Until very recently, sewing wasn’t “hip” in the mainstream sense. But now it’s been rediscovered by young women and embraced as part of their creative identities. We think this is a new phenomenon, but really this same thing has happened many times over in the last few hundred years. I became interested in that ebb and flow, specifically how some generations of women were able to view sewing as creatively empowering, while for others, it was a skill forced upon them that felt stifling. I wanted to talk about all of this in a smart—but accessible—way that would appeal to modern women who love to sew. I also loved the idea of designing projects inspired by the various eras. There wasn’t really any books out there doing this when I conceived the idea for Sew Retro.

What was your favorite part of writing Sew Retro?
I liked all of it! I’m such a research nerd, so I loved digging into each era and clicking around following footnotes and links. The writing part came fairly easily, because writing and research is what I spend the bulk of my days doing. The designing part was more challenging, because I’m a very intuitive sewer and I tend to just try things and do things on the fly. But I am also obsessed with clarity and good step-by-step instruction, so I knew that I couldn’t just wing it. Designing and testing the patterns really helped me sharpen a skill set I hadn’t used that much, and I discovered that I really love it!

What would you say to encourage a novice to try sewing?
Just that: try it! People are sometimes turned off by sewing because it can feel very exacting. You have to measure and do math and visualize how things come together. Projects don’t always work. It can be frustrating. But like anything, you just want to start with the basics: a project with mostly straight seams and nothing too fancy. Once you get down some of the basic techniques, you move on to the next level. There’s also something about seeing a finished project—it’s so gratifying. It’s sort of like starting an exercise program: sometimes it takes a while to see results, but you keep trying day after day. And then suddenly you reach a goal, and you build on that success to set a new goal (can you tell I’m a health and fitness writer, too?). So I’d say, start basic, have a goal, and be patient with yourself.

You love 19th century domestic fiction. What are some of your favorite works from that time and why?
My favorites are probably The Lamplighter, by Maria Susanna Cummins, and Ruth Hall, by Fanny Fern. The character of Ruth actually does all kinds of sewing and needlework; it’s part of her creative identity, and how she makes a nice, pretty home for her children, even though she is very poor (she gets widowed early on). She also becomes a successful writer (it’s somewhat based on Fanny Fern’s life), all on her own, and has tremendous business savvy and gumption. I also love, love, love The Hidden Hand, by E.D.E.N. Southworth. It’s such a fun book, with a spirited heroine (Capitola Black) who you can’t stop rooting for. I like the books from this era because they feature strong young women with the odds stacked against them. But the women make it in the end. From our modern perspective, of course there are issues—like they almost always wind up getting married in the end. But it was difficult in the mid-19th century to write your way out of that ending. We get to choose whatever ending we want for ourselves now, but we’ve had 150 years of progress to get us here!

Some issues we discuss on a regular basis on this blog are self-awareness and community engagement. Given that, what do you most appreciate about yourself?
I appreciate that I know what I’m intrinsically good at, and what I’m intrinsically not good at. I know what problems I can tackle and what I should stay away from. I think people both delude themselves, and undervalue themselves. I’ve always been very independent, and I realized pretty early on (by my early 20s) that I’m not really a team player, and I don’t want to be in charge of anyone other than myself. I would make a lousy boss, and quite honestly, I made a pretty lackluster teacher when I taught English composition in graduate school. I value the things teams can do, and obviously, I’ve had amazing teachers and am indebted to them. But I need to be on my own and do my own thing—and this is okay. This is my strength. If you hire me as a writer, I will write something fabulous for you and make your problems go away and I will charge you accordingly and you’ll want to pay it! I believe this about myself. But if you want to hire me to do something I’m not good at, like brainstorm product names with a team of creatives, or manage a project that involves a lot of other people? Forget it. I’m not good at it, and I can’t make your problems go away. It’s all about realistic confidence. I’m never afraid to admit that I’m terrible at something, but I’m also not afraid to say I’m good at something.

What do you wish all women knew?
Echoing what I said above: that you will be good at some things, excellent even. And other things, you won’t be good at. And that’s okay. Certainly it’s good to try new things and challenge yourself, and sometimes you have to fake it until you make it; there’s nothing wrong with that. But I’m talking about the deep-down intrinsic stuff, the things you know in your gut. The “yes, this feels completely right!” versus the “no, I can’t get out of bed I hate this so much!” Don’t pretend you want to follow a path if you don’t want to. Embrace your strengths and go with them. Find the thing that gives you that excited tingling way down in your gut and follow it as far as you can.

Posted in Beautiful You, The Process | 1 Response

the greatest surprise

By Rosie Molinary on June 10, 2010

We left the house this morning for the Y. I had Happy’s bag stuffed with snacks, diapers, wipes, water, and the all important milk. We can’t go anywhere these days without copious amounts of milk. We walked into the garage and Happy saw his Flintstone car. You know the car I am talking about- it’s orange and yellow and has a door that opens for the kid to climb in and no pedals, just open floor space for the kid to move it along with his feet. He inherited the Flintsone car last week from friends whose three kids have enjoyed it. It is covered in, as BF puts in, graffiti. It has been well-loved for over six years. Happy was thrilled to inherit it and has been obsessed with it for a week. So, instead of dutifully going to his car door and our opening the door together as we do when I say to him, “We’re headed to the car, Happy,” he ran to the Flintstone car. He was headed to a car alright, his car.

And though I only had a finite amount of time to get my workout in before we had to be home for speech therapy, I said nothing. I let him play in that car as long as he wanted. And when our next door neighbor opened her back door to call out for her dog (who was in our garage with us), Happy took off for Honey’s house (Honey is our neighbor. She is just as sweet as said name implies).

“Come on in,” Honey called. “The boys are eating breakfast.” Honey’s grandsons had spent the night. Happy loves those boys. He barged in, found a seat at the table and waited for his warm muffin. Somewhere in my house, my to do list with ‘workout’ on it was taunting me, I am sure. Instead of worrying about it, I sat down, too.

Then, all of the boys tumbled out Honey’s back door and to our paved, long, even driveway– perfect for scooters, the Flintstone car, and Big Wheels (an aside: when I was a little girl, I thought Proud Mary by CCR was about Big Wheels. I had a Big Wheel, and I loved that song. My dad would turn on the wood-paneled station wagon in the driveway and allow me to play the CCR eight track on it. I would play in the yard until the bars of Proud Mary started. Then I would run to my big wheel, hop on, and tear around the driveway with my theme song jamming in the background. I am reminded of this as the boys careen around the driveway). I don’t look at a watch. I don’t think about the list. I don’t worry about the fact that my window to use childwatch at the gym is dimishing as the boys ride. I push the Flintsone car, the scooter, the Big Wheel. I throw balls, get the dogs to move, intervene over toy tension. And then it’s time for speech. Then lunch. Then nap. Then the playground and the day goes by and I never scratch workout off the list.

And this small thing, this never having scratched workout or 10 other things off the list is the biggest revelation to me as a mother.

A few weeks ago, Happy and I visited a friend who I haven’t seen much since becoming a parent. She’s the busy mother of three boys. They live out of town on a farm with horses. The horses keep her on that farm all the time, busy, working, and when she’s not working the horses, she’s doing animal- equine or dog- therapy somewhere. But we found these thirty minutes for us to stop by and while Happy navigated the horses and the barn cat, she asked what had been the greatest surprise to me in parenting. I hadn’t thought about that question before. But the answer came to me quickly.

The greatest surprise was me– that I, the list girl that I am, have no problem, in any moment that Happy is awake and with me, not minding the list. That I can feel fully satisfied at the end of the day not accomplishing everything I thought I needed to accomplish in that day because what most satisfies me is not ‘work’. To be fair, my work is important to me- it matters to me to use what skill and passion I have in the efforts and issues that I have embraced to try and make a difference- but in motherhood, I have taken the long view. The list doesn’t have to be completed each day (with bonus points for starting the next day’s list early as I did for years and years). What most matters to me right now is showing up and being present. To be where I am in that moment. That if the time is Happy’s time, that he gets it. That if the time is the work time that I have alloted, that I make the most of it. I have found peace with the fact that it all just cannot be accomplished in a day and that if I am forcing it to be accomplished, then I am doing it at the detriment of this baby boy with whose care and wellbeing I have had the honor of being entrusted.

I have always had a global sense of urgency and the urgency has always shown up on that list. I dramatically wrote in my journal in college that it was not enough for me to just give my best to things because I might somehow justify less than enough. I couldn’t give my best. I had to give enough to make the difference. Always. For years, I was unable to have unproductive time. If I was in front of the television, I was ironing, organizing recipes or files, making notes, wrapping gifts. I couldn’t just work out, I had to train for something. I was so scared of wasting a minute and the way I knew the time wasn’t wasted was if it led to something being crossed off the list. If it was enough effort to get something crossed off the list. But in being Happy’s mother, I have found grace and peace and stillness. I can still make work with the best of them, but I do it only when work is scheduled. Now, I can walk away. Nothing is so urgent anymore. Nothing, that is, but pushing that little Flintstone’s car down the driveway one more time.

Posted in Food for Thought, Life at Home | 5 Responses

More questions answered

By Rosie Molinary on April 1, 2009

Are you making your baby’s food?

Not even. I wanted to. I thought it would be a cool thing to do, but the reality is that the only way I can imagine making his food is if I took a chunk of time on Saturday or Sunday afternoon to make a big batch, but, right now, I usually just work while baby’s sleeping which means I can get about 3-4 hours of work done each weekday which leaves me needing to work some on the weekends– during that afternoon nap where I could be making baby food. So, we buy organic baby food– a combination of Gerber’s Organic and Earth’s Best.

Did you pick your baby based on a picture?

Ouch. That one stings a little. No, we did not pick our baby based on his cute factor, although we do think he’s cute. But I think we’d think any baby that was ours was cute. Isn’t that just how it works? Anyway, the way the referral process works is that an applying adoptive family can indicate what type of child they are interested in– perhaps a gender, an age range, a specific special need, etc– and then the adoption agency matches them with a child that fits those parameters when the family’s the next one up in the queue (and when a child that fits those parameters becomes available for adoption). In our case, we acutally learned that an agency had a baby boy who needed a family– what’s called a waiting child. We hadn’t yet applied to adopt, but we instantly knew this was our boy and said yes. This is how BF and I are. The big decisions in our life have been made in an instant (we walked into the second room of our current house on the 2nd day it was for sale and I said to BF, ‘Let’s make an offer.’ We signed a completed contract for it less than 8 hours later.), and we trust our instincts. It was another two weeks before we saw the first picture of our boy, learned his name, how old he was, or any details about him (because we needed to apply, have our home study done, and officially get approved as adoptive parents).

What does Lola think of baby?

To borrow a line, she’s just not that into him. She’s fine to him; she even licks him on occassion to win our praise, but, really, she’s put out with the big people in her life who have disrupted her schedule and her loving. So she sighs dramatically. A lot. I think Lola is going through her teen angst phase right now. That said, baby LOVES Lola. He thinks she is the funniest thing ever, and if she’s around, he can’t get close enough (just what Lola wants). It’s actually quite funny. We know the day will come when baby will start to drop food Lola wants to eat on the floor, and she won’t be able to believe her good fortune and then baby will be her favorite person in the house, but for right now, she’s just playing along with our scheme because there is no other choice.

What’s baby drinking?

Soy formula. And, holy cow, does it smell. Baby spit up on his car seat the other day while BF wasn’t in the car and when BF came back he said, “who ate french fries in here?” And you know what? He was onto something! Soy formula doesn’t smell like potatoes exactly, but it smells like cooking oil– like day old, used vegetable oil; like McDonald’s after closing time– and that’s why BF’s car smelled like french fries. I told my sister this and she said, “well, probably the stuff he spit up was a day old,” which totally made me laugh. The funny thing is that there are very few french fries that I like, and that the ones I do like are ones where the oil that’s been used is fresh. I hate the taste of french fries that have been cooked in old oil. And now baby’s breath totally has that old oil smell. Poor kid. Poor parents.

Are you still swaddling him?

Yes we are. And you want to see adults panic? I should have filmed BF and I realizing the other day that our boy was getting a little too big for the Kiddopatamus. He’s a little too wide for the straps which then keeps the swaddle part from fitting around him. We pulled out the Snug and Tug (another swaddle blanket that we had packed up in the attic) and found we had a few more inches in circumference so we breathed a collective sigh of relief. I also ordered something called the Miracle Blanket. We’ll see how that works. BF tried to put baby down the other day without his swaddle as an experiment to see if we still really needed it, and as BF put it, baby just screamed at him. As soon as BF put the swaddle blanket on him, he fell asleep within a minute. So, yeah, we’re still swaddling him. My friend Jen told me that Baby would not go to college with his swaddle (and that he would go to college already sleeping through the night)– this is actually good perspective to have– so we anticipate that the swaddling and the five wake-ups per night (which is a vast improvement from 15 that we are very grateful for) will end sometime in the next 17 years.

Are you tired?

It is so uninteresting to talk about, but, yep, we’re tired. This is how tired I am. My above mentioned friend Jen made me homemade granola which is one of my favorite foods of all time. That’s the kind of friend Jen is. She makes her tired friend homemade granola. And because I have a pain in the tail nut allergy, she made it with pistachios because those are the nuts that I can eat and then, wouldn’t you know it, my beloved pistachios have caught the eye of the FDA for possibly causing samonella. So, Jen sadly had to tell me that she tossed the granola since it’s on the watch list, and she didn’t want to give me samonella. My answer? That samonella would probably land me a stay at the hospital and a stay at the hosptial would surely mean that I’d get some rest. That’s when you know your tired. When a hospital stay sounds good.

Any other big changes in your life?

My hair after a cut at the local barbershop (I was doing a story on the barbershop and one of the guys cut my hair with a straight razor). It's basically the cut I'm back to today.

Well, this week? My hair’s all gone. Six inches chopped off on Tuesday. I didn’t even know I had six inches to chop off. Baby was way into pulling my hair– especially when it was curly which is the easiest way to wear it right now since all I do is put a comb through it once and throw some product in it and run– and so it seemed like the easiest thing to do was get rid of the length. That’s how it gets started, right? You chop off 6 inches because your baby’s pulling it and then soon enough it’s all gone, right? So, now, it touches my shoulder– or tries, too, and it’s so layered that I can’t get it back in a pony tail (not really my intention– I thought I’d still have a pony tail in my repertoire. If I gather it at the nape of my neck, I have a little one inch nub). No word yet on whether or not baby will find it less enticing since I’ve just had it for one day.

Posted in Life at Home | Tagged adoption, baby food, Ethiopian adoption, international adoption, motherhood, parenting, swaddling, transracial adoption | 13 Responses

18 ways to love the new family or family member in your life

By Rosie Molinary on March 11, 2009

welcome-home-flag1

* Wondering what’s up with the sign? See # 5.

So there’s a new family- or family member- in your life, and you want to be really helpful. And I want you, as a family member or friend, to be able to be really helpful, too– no matter what kind of new family they are (adoptive, not adoptive, step, etc) so here are some tips that might help you be the asset you want to be…

Before the new arrival arrives

1. Drop by a few meals that can be frozen before the arrival date or adoption date. It’s in their best interest as a nuclear family to have their first weeks at home evolve in a way that they define and that may not include visitors on day one at home. By dropping off a meal (or three) before they ever depart, they are given a little breathing room to seek only what they need in those first precious days home.

2. Offer to go grocery shopping for them on the day that they will arrive back home. Ask for a list and a key and have those groceries in the fridge or in the cabinets well before they are scheduled to be home. Our dear neighbor, Carly, did this for us and bought all organic. It was the sweetest thing ever; we felt so loved by her careful attention.

3. Offer to coordinate meal delivery, and don’t be shy. Carly made this offer to me and I was so shy to share names with her. She wasn’t the least bit shy and teamed up with my mother-in-law to get a group of women together to provide meals a few times a week for a month. Another friend, Lisa, coordinated people dropping by frozen meals for us before we left (see #1) so we had six total weeks of meals provided to us. It was the most perfect of gifts– one of the loveliest ways to be loved.

4. Offer to come over for a day (or seven) of putting things together. There is so much gear and stuff that goes with bringing home a new family member of any age. Bunk bed building help, car seat installing help, wall painting help is all so very welcome.

5. Do something sweet and welcoming. It might be making sure that you mail a card that says Congratulations or Welcome to the new family member. It may be painting a sign or hanging a welcome flag at the house for their arrival home. It may be sending them off on their adoption trip to Ethiopia or China or New Mexico with a little bit of spending money to help the local economy or treat themselves to something. We received so many cards in the first weeks we were home, and it was just so touching.

6. Say prayers, hold them in your thoughts, send them good wishes– however it is you express joy, appreciation, hope to the world, do that for this family before they are together and once they are home.

Once they are home

7. At first, resist calling too much. It’s stressful to have to remember to return phone calls in the midst of everything else, and it is hard to even put a thought together. Know that if your loved one needs to talk to you, he or she will call or email or send out smoke signals or something. Just for right then, give them permission to do whatever they most need to do.

8. And then, once the phone bubble has been broken (by their reaching out to you or a few weeks passing), always, always call before you stop by. It helps them plan for the visit. It helps them strategize around nap time, etc. It helps them graciously turn down the visit if it’s not a good time. And always ask “is this a good time? We can plan for a different time if that’s better.” Your visit might seem really necessary to you. It might not be so necessary right at that moment, though, for what they have going on in their lives. So give them the option, give them the out, and when you do get to visit, stay less time than you’d really like.

9. Do think outside the dinner box when you think about putting together a little care package. Muffins and other easy to grab breakfast food (we had scones– thank you, AB) are decadent. Our neighbor, Mary Wilson, brought by cut up orange slices, and we devoured them like we had scurvy or something. We had cupcakes (you know that was okay with me), chocolate ice box pie, and brownies, a beautiful jar of chicken noodle soup for easy lunches, and decadent loaves of bread delivered. It was wonderful to not only have meals covered but to also have easy to grab food on the fly as we ran through the kitchen.

10. Help your loved ones observe the limits they need to set. A few weeks ago, we went to visit my family, and I had told my mamacita that we would need to leave no later than 2:30 pm to come back home. She didn’t want us to leave; she was enjoying our visit, but as soon as 2 pm rolled around, she started watching the clock for us— getting water bottles ready for our ride home, instructing my dad to help BF carry the goodies they had for us out to the car, etc. It was just so nice that she made it so easy for us. Even though I know she would have loved for us to stay a few more hours, she trusted that we knew best when we said what time we needed to leave and that what we thought was best was indeed best for her grandson. It was such a loving and helpful gesture, and it made me think, “I always want to make it that easy for someone else to mind the limits they need to set.” So the new family in your life will have limits– as well they should. As their ally, respect their limits, pay attention to their limits, and help them mind their limits, even when you really want that baby or adorable six year old to hang around a little longer. There will be other get togethers. Push a child past the point where they can control their state (and, trust me, you are not the one who will see the state control melt down. His or her parents will be the lucky and full recipients of that breakdown), and you’ve asked far too much.

11. Ask first about everything. It may not be a good time for the child to be held by someone else or to be given a cookie. Show the parents that you respect their right and ability to make the best decisions for their child and show the child that you understand who their parents are and who should be making the decisions for them. It may not be a good time for the baby to held. It may not be a good time to run outside. Whatever it is you want to do, remember that what you do could undo something the parents have been working towards for a long time. Asking first is a gift to everyone involved.

12. Accept the answer. So, if you ask, you might get an answer you didn’t really want to hear. Just remember that it’s not about you. It’s about a specific child and his or her specific parents who have a specific goal and objective in mind that really isn’t about you. So give grace abundantly.

13. And don’t give advice abundantly unless you are asked. One of my dearest girl friends is a doctor. She knows a thing or 87. She always, always waits for me to ask a direct question before giving me advice. I love that she trusts me to make good decisions and to know what I need to ask. And she’s the first to say she hasn’t been in an adoptive situation. She fully gets and respects that adoptive parenting has its own unique nuances, and she knows that we are students of the process so she even couches everything she says to me (that I ask about and when appropriate) with observations that show there are caveats for our unique situation. I love how she demonstates her trust and respect.

14. While resisting the urge to give unsolicited advice, also resist the urge to make pithy statements (when are you going to let me see that baby, he’s spoiled already, etc). It might seem like a joke, but it really does sting.

15. Call when you are going by the grocery store or the dry cleaners or the pharmacy or post office to see if you can pick something up or drop something off. Several people did this for us, and it allowed us to nest a little longer at home. Who knew the gift of time could really be given?

16. Offer to come over and give support to the parent– washing and folding laundry, ironing, cleaning the house, mowing the lawn, raking leaves, etc. The dailiness of maintaining a household can be really overwhelming when you are adjusting to a new family member, and it’s hard to let yourself off the hook for doing the dishes or the laundry. So you do it and miss valuable, precious moments with your new loved one or valuable, precious moments where you could be sleeping. Having someone say, “I’ll come do that crappy chore for you” is like being asked out by George Clooney. You think you are dreaming, and it’s the best dream you’ve ever had.

17. Give your loved ones an out when it comes to thank you notes. You know that they are grateful so let them know that you know that and tell them that you don’t want them to write a note. Insist really. It’s one less thing on a list that has become endless.

18. Ask questions. How are you doing? What can I do? What is going well? What’s hard? How can I be more helpful? What do you need? How was the journey, experience, etc? What have you learned? What helps? It is so nice to share this journey with people that you love and that love you.

Posted in Life at Home | Tagged adoption, adoption transition, advice, family, international adoption, motherhood, new baby, new parents, parenting | 1 Response

How BF became BF and December traditions

By Rosie Molinary on December 15, 2008

jolly-ornament

9 years ago on December 16th, BF and I went out on our first date. It was a bit of a miracle that we went out on that date. I like to say that he had to beg after committing a social faux pas a month earlier (we had known each other for years). He kept asking if he could take me to dinner to “make it up to me.” “No,” I kept insisting, until I finally just said, “If I go to dinner with you this one time, are we even? Can this whole begging for forgiveness thing just be done?” “Yes,” he said, so suffice to say that neither of us really saw that first date as a first date. Well, the first date was much more fun than I expected it to be, and, yet, I had made it absolutely clear to him that there wouldn’t be any more dates before even going out on the first one. So, what’s a girl to do to let a guy know that it wouldn’t get on her nerves any if he really did ask her out on a date? Well, buy him a Christmas tree ornament for the Christmas tree he had put up, strung lights on, and then bought exactly 12 snowflake ornaments for. I left that ornament for him to find on his front porch when he came home from work the day after our dinner together. And then we really did decide to go out on a date (BF actually called all his friends’ wives and asked, ‘what does it mean if a girl leaves a Christmas ornament on your porch?’ Picturing him doing that still makes me laugh.).

Back then, I called BF “the man that I see.” I was tentative about dating– it wasn’t that I was scared of being hurt. In fact, my past relationships were loving and dear, ended very amicably and for practical reasons, and didn’t leave me scarred or scared. My last long-term boyfriend (before BF) I had dated for years, we had just adored each other, and had split more over distance than feelings. He is still one of the most wonderful men I know. But I had just started a new job, was a couple weeks away from starting graduate school, and I wanted to do both well. So BF became the man that I saw. Then a couple years later, we got engaged, and BF became the man that I date. We started to joke that when we got married, he could officially become my boyfriend (our joke now is that it is only with a divorce that he can become ‘my husband’). One time, a friend of mine from college- a male friend- came to town and was going to eat dinner with BF and I at the downtown Soda Shop in our town. My friend and I had gone to a retirement party for one of our college mentors and then walked over to the Soda Shop together. BF waited for us in a booth there. As we walked into the Soda Shop, I noticed many people that BF and I both knew and some that only knew me (specifically some of my college students who were freshmen and had not yet met BF). My friend and I headed over to the booth BF had saved, and I waved to my college students.

“Rosie,” they hollered, “is that your Boyfriend?” They were pointing to my college friend. I knew what they meant. They knew what they meant, but my college friend had no idea. “Why, yes, I am her boyfriend. I can’t believe she’s so open about our relationship.” The town people looked from BF to me to my college friend to my students absolutely startled. BF and I laughed pretty hard about it later.

Anyway, one of our annual December traditions is that I give BF a a new Christmas tree ornament every year on December 16th. I have been thinking a lot about holiday traditions lately because, hopefully, we’ll have a bigger family this time next year, and it’ll be especially nice to build traditions together as a family of three. Did you have especially touching holiday traditions when you were a kid? Do you have some now? What are your favorite holiday traditions? Give ’em up so I can start making my list!

** The Jolly ornament is that first ornament I left for BF on his porch.

Posted in Tangents | Tagged Christmas decorations, holiday traditions, ornaments | 4 Responses