The weather has been stormy and very unsettled over the past few days, and we had some heavy rains too.
Once in a while, the sun says hello :)
But the first snow shows on the peaks!
Friday, October 11, 2013
Fashion Trends - My beloved Emerald
This summer one of the trendy colors was mint... and now that autumn is here mint replaced by Emerald Green. A really beautiful color...a gorgeous shade of green, warm, sexy and perfect for the coolest days.
 |
| 1.Dress 2.Necklace 3.Ring 4.Flower Hair Clip |
Tonight, hopefully, I will have a beautiful, romantic exodus with my hubby... celebrating our 17years together...since we were kids. And since my belly is growing, I love this free-form dress in emerald green. Gold is just the right color to add a spark in the outfit and make it more elegant...
Simple, romantic and memorable.... Happy Friday!!!
mats mouts
Wednesday, October 9, 2013
Blogger Opportunity - $100 Amazon GIft Card or Paypal Cash Giveaway
Mommy Knows What's Best is celebrating over 5,000 fans on both Facebook and Twitter! Join her in the celebration with this giveaway opp.
Hosted by Mommy Knows What's Best
Prize: One winner will receive a gift code for $100 for Amazon or $100 via Paypal. This event is blogger sponsored. WW, 18+
Giveaway: Begins October 18th 1:00 am EST and ends November 8th 11:59 pm EST
Participating bloggers are responsible for:
- announcement post, found here
- submitting giveaway post URL to me via the post form when the event goes live (or as a scheduled post).
- promoting this giveaway at least 3-4 times a week.
Options:
One FREE Twitter Link for Announcement post
Paid options as well
This giveaway should do very well since it is before the holiday season!
**Most referrals will get a Secret Word page!
Thanks!
Drag Shows, Football, & Pumpkins
Phew. It's already Wednesday and I'm still kicking myself trying to figure out where the weekend went. We were very busy. Insanely busy. But it was mostly all good stuff.
On Friday, I met up with my former coworker and friend and we had a mini girl's night. We went to a gay bar to get a drink and showed up just in time for a surprise drag show. Glad I can finally cross that off the bucket list. The drag show was seriously entertaining. I really enjoyed it, in a way that made me feel a little perverse. I'm just not used to being jealous of other MEN'S bodies. Everything was over the top. It was perfect.
Jacob had a buddy over on Saturday. I naively assumed that the two boys would run off and entertain themselves. But, phew, these boys were busy busy. They each insisted that I draw them Batman paraphernalia. So I quickly became the resident Batman illustrator. I drew Bat Caves, Batmobiles, Bat Motorcycles, Batplanes, and even Batman himself. Even with all that practice, I don't think Marvel will be knocking on my door any time soon. Then the boys wanted to build houses out of scrap wood. Are you kidding me? Just my luck these boys would refuse to play Legos or cars or other simple games. Sheesh. Upside: I used up all those extra hot glue sticks taking up valuable space in my junk drawer.
Let's see...what else? Ryan enjoyed an entire cookie dough ice cream cone.
And a gigantic Costco hot dog.
Since my recent interest in the Seahawks has officially morphed into obsession, Sundays in fall are officially football days (I like to imagine that God is proud to share his day of with Russell Wilson). As someone who has never really liked football until now, it was a very unfamilar and surreal experience when I woke up on Sunday to discover that our cable wasn't working and my body went into an uncontrollable anxiety about missing the Seahawks game. Just the thought sent me into a strange, feverish panic. My body was feeling things I had never felt before....about football of all things! My husband looked at me in horror when I insisted that we go across town to watch the game with friends. I saw the question in his eyes: "who IS this person?!"
There is definitely Seahawk hysteria in our house. We are all a little Hawk-crazy right now (which is totally being fueled by me and my gigantic crush on the Hawk QB). Jacob fell asleep in his eyeblack tonight. I was so proud.
This weekend was a milestone for Ryan as vocabulary has grown exponentially. Ryan has been taking his sweet time learning to say new words. At this age, Jacob was talking in sentences but, as a second born with a big brother to look out for him at all times, Ryan has not really had a need to talk for himself. However, his vocabulary has grown four-fold, seemingly overnight. My new favorite words that Ryan says are butterfly (sounds like "fly-fly"), basket (which used to sound like "basko" and now, sadly sounds perfectly accurate), and pumpkin. He is no longer shy about trying new words for the first time and his first attempts at new words can be downright hilarious.
When I ask Ryan to say a new word, he gives a sly smile as if he knows something that we do not. He will then put together random consonants and vowels in an unrecognizable form. Jacob and I say, "yay!" and clap encouragingly. Ryan's sly smile creeps further across his face, as if he has secretly known how to say the word for months and is playing coy with us. His second attempt is much more accurate, and we cheer louder, with Ryan joining in.
Ryan is obsessed with waving. He waves to strangers at McDonalds. He waves to checkers at Costco. He waves to squirrels. He waves to the moon. When he waves, his hand is limp and his arm snaps back and forth at the wrist and elbow. It cracks me up every time.
Ryan driving at the mall. Clearly we need to have a talk about distracted driving.
On Monday after I picked up the kids, we stopped at the grocery store and, in a moment of festivity, I let the kids each pick out a tiny pumpkin. Little did I know, that Jacob would have great plans for his pumpkin. We got home and he insisted on carving, despite my repeated coaxign that he just color it with a marker. Turns out, you CAN carve a tiny pumpkin.
Meet Pirate Patch, very appropriately named by Jacob:
He insisted that the pumpkin have an eye patch and pointy teeth. Jacob also wanted me to draw drips of blood hanging from the teeth but....ew, I drew the line right there! He is strangely fascinated by all things "creepy." As someone who has never watched a single horror movie (the parody Scary Movie films gave me nightmares for days!), I do not understand this interest one single bit. I prefer smiling witches and cute pumpkins and innocuous black kittens.
My not-so-little-stop-growing-up boys:
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
GIVEAWAY - Soula the Talented Mother!!!!
Hello my friends!!!
October is here and I am honored to have another talented lady in my blog and of course a new interview and a gift for you, my friend Soula from CraftySou, the first lady I met from Etsy Greek Streat Team.
I have to say that I trully admire Soula, since she is a mother of three boys but at the same time a very talented lady... her creations? From beautiful gemstone jewels, to silver and gold rings and amazing scarves! All of them really unique and gorgeous.
So please let me introduce you Soula from Craftysou!!!!
**************************************************
Hello, I'm Soula from Craftysou!!!
I'm a mother of three wonderful boys. Since I remember myself I liked two things: Chemistry and making jewelry. I studied Chemistry but years later I decided to take a few metalsmith classes so I would be able to make my own metal jewelry. I like to work with metal and in my shop you will find pieces made of brass, copper and silver which I combine with gemstones.
 |
| Gold and Silver Bar Earrings |
My favourite piece of jewelry is rings, so you will find a variety of them in my shop. My latest passion is with square wire and I have created rings using that. I got my inspiration from geometry, nature, people around me.
 |
| Pink Flower Necklace |
I was familiar with Etsy.com long before I decided to open a shop there. I found lot of artists around the globe that I admire and I said to myself "why not share your work with other people too?" so I opened my shop!
 |
olive leaves and crystal beads bouquet necklace
Every time someone chooses an item from my shop I feel unique and I put my heart and soul into making it and make that person feeling unique too. No two items are exactly the same and that's the beauty of handmade! I try to keep up with the current trends and I'm exploring new techniques as it comes to metalsmith.
 |
| Statement Ring with Carves |
Apart from metal and gemstones I like luxurious yarns and I like knitting so I added a few handmade scarves and yarn necklaces in my shop. When I work with metal it's kind of rough and it keeps my adrenaline high, so knitting takes the tension away and makes me relax!
Well, thank you for your time and don't forget to visit Craftysou!!!
**************************************************
Soula was really kind to offer a gift from her collection to one lucky lady..... a Gorgeous SIlver Plated Cocktail Ring with Pink Jade from Craftysou collection!!!!
In order to have the chance to win and choose your favorite earrings, just use the Rafflecopter below and earn more entries.
a Rafflecopter giveaway
Winner will be announced on the 20th of October.
Good Luck!!!!
P.S This Giveaway is also sponsored by http://www.jaba.gr/
AUTUMN RAINS
The autumn rains have started... We haven't seen much sun here in the past two weeks, but hopefully the sun will be out soon again, I'm looking forward to the wonderful colors of autumn in bright sunshine. The atmosphere of autumn is fascinating with rain too, and the chestnuts are ripe on the trees. Now we need some sunshine :)
Monday, October 7, 2013
At Peace With It All
The other day I was talking to my mom and she mentioned that one of my cousins who had a baby six months ago has returned to work full time. To that, she added, "You're not the bad guy anymore!"
"Huh? What do you mean I'm not the bad guy anymore?"
"You're not the only working mom in the family now."
When I went to work after graduating from law school and having a baby, I just assumed working was expected of me. Ever since I can remember, my entire family has encouraged all of us to obtain the best education possible. Education became not just the top priority, it was the ONLY priority. My parents. My grandparents. My teachers. My adult role models. The same chant rang through my ear, "All that matters is getting a good education."
Well. I did. I did what everyone freaking told me. I tossed away my application to that film school in Montana (which was pretty much my dream and, in addition to my fondness for hot men in kilts, explains why I saw Gladiator seven times in the movie theater) and sent in applications to the highest ranking liberal arts schools that I thought I could get into.
And then guess what? I did pretty well. And I loved it. And I wasn't ready to be done when I graduated in three years. I spent a year interning for a local government agency and then I applied to law school. My parents LOVED to tell their friends that their daughter was in law school. I didn't know if I was on the right track, but I loved to be the source of their smiles.
"Cool," I thought. "I must be doing something right."
But then something strange happened. I had a baby in my last year of law school. Then I graduated. Then I got a job. Full time. As an attorney. "Hey proud family! You must be REALLY proud now!"
SILENCE.
What? Didn't you hear me? I'm finally USING that education you guys wanted me to get so badly. I'm finally working in the field that you all were so proud of me to study in. Isn't that fantastic?!
SILENCE.
One thing I didn't count on was a weird sort of mutated double standard. According to what my world was telling me, it seemed, women should be educated and smart. But how dare they want to use their education in a work environment once they became moms. Initially, most of the pressure I felt was from my own stay-at-home mom. She kept insisting that I didn't have to work. That I could find a way to stay home with my baby. Even though she was gracious enough to watch my baby while I was at work, she would very adamantly insist in overly-judgy gazes that my baby needed ME not her. When I would pick my son up from her house she would say, "I can't replace you. You're his mommy."
I can't tell you how many tears I cried over the immense guilt I felt that first year. It was nearly unbearable at times. The criticisms around me compounded with the own insecurities I felt. I loved being an attorney. But was I sacrificing my child's needs for my own career?
When my son was 3, I tried to wean him from his binky. But every time I tried, my mom would sabotage me. "He needs his binky. It's his security. Because you're not there." Ouch. It was a struggle. Those first couple years. There are a handful of very vivid memories I have of me staying late after work, trying to catch up on my billable hours, sitting in front of my computer, gazing at the picture of my baby, and letting fat, wet, warm tears spring from my eyes. I cried silently. Alone. In my office. Wondering if I wasn't making the biggest mistake of my life.
Then one day, I overheard my grandma and my mom talking. My grandma (also a stay-at-home mom) was giving my mom an earful about how horrible it was that I would leave my baby to work all day. How horrible it was that my mom was raising my son.
Listening to my grandma talk, I couldn't help but succumb to the wave of self-pity that washed over me. But at the same time, I started to understand a little bit of what my own mom was up against. When she was criticizing my choice to go to work, she was projecting a little bit of the harsh judgment of the world in which she, herself, was raised. She was reflecting on all the broken homes that my childhood friends grew up in, a cause of which she always attributed to the fact that there was not a parent at home. She was projecting the voice and concerns of her own mother (my grandmother). This was new territory for her. This was a world she did not understand.
As my mom was about to respond to my grandma's harsh criticism, I expected another heavy blow. But when she opened her mouth to the telephone, I didn't hear what I expected. She told my grandma how proud she was of me. How well I'm doing juggling everything. How much I love my baby. How hard I am working for my family. How well my husband and I work together. The breath that had been squeezed out of my body just moments before, returned and filled my lungs once again. I felt hopeful.
At first, my mom was my harshest critic. But over time, she became my biggest fan. Even though I lived a life very different from hers and was trying to survive in a world that she could not even imagine, she learned to support me. This year on my birthday, she stuck a handwritten letter in the diaper bag. I found it after I pulled up to the house and parked the car. I sat there and poured over every single word. It was so uplifting. As I read each sentiment, I felt, for the first time that she finally understood. She finally appreciated. It was incredible how accurately she described my personal challenges and worries and addressed them head on with encouragement and support.
The other day when my mom said, "You're not the bad guy anymore." My family's long-lasting criticism made sense. I've been fighting a lonely uphill battle. Until then I didn't realize that, out of a very large family with 50+ cousins on both sides, the majority of whom are married, that I was the ONLY full-time working mom. Up until this summer, when my cousin returned to work after having her baby girl, I was it. Taking the criticism on my own. (Some of my aunts were working moms but I don't remember my grandparents ever criticizing them- I haven't figured that one out yet).
All this time I was the only one trying to change my family's very traditional definition of the term "mom." I wish I had worried less about what they thought and focused more on being happy with my own decisions. It's easy to feel unsure about your mothering choices, to let the feelings of the outside world chip away at you, when you yourself won't come to peace with your own insecurities. Ultimately, for me, finding a job that was a good fit for my family and having my mom on my side was the key to feeling secure about my choices.
While I've slowly come to terms with my own insecurities and developed a small little support team (my mom and my husband), my jobs have played a very critical factor in how I feel about my choice to be a working mom. And yes, it is cliche, but everything really does come down to balance.
My first job offered a great career but was bad for family. The second job was great for family but boring and a waste of my lawyer skills. The third job was a part time (30 hours) version of my first job. That still didn't work. The private law firm atmosphere plus my commute was just not family friendly, even for part time (omg, the stress! the billable hours, the commute!). My new job, and where I hope to stay for quite some time, combines the best of all my prior jobs- interesting and challenging work, without the crazy private law firm environment. My commute is amazingly short and I have just the right amount of family time. For the first time since I have embarked on my law career, there is not the faintest hint of mommy guilt associated with working.
On top of all that, I feel like my own kids are showing me that having a working mom is not a black mark. It turns out that having a working mom is just one of a series of possible positive and healthy experiences. The way Jacob gregariously approaches new people in an effort to turn every stranger into a friend, the way he bravely tries new things, and showers us all with hugs, smiles, and his laughter; the way Ryan is a brave and tough little bulldozer who is selective about his "friends" but showers those select lucky souls with boundless cuddles and loves, the way Ryan wants to sit at the big boy table like his brother, carry the grocery basket at the store, and bravely climbs the big toys to frightening (for his mama) heights. My boys are like any other boys. They are smart, adjusted, secure, loved and loving. They, above all else, are proof that this whole thing is working. And they are the best reward after a long hard day at the office.
"Huh? What do you mean I'm not the bad guy anymore?"
"You're not the only working mom in the family now."
When I went to work after graduating from law school and having a baby, I just assumed working was expected of me. Ever since I can remember, my entire family has encouraged all of us to obtain the best education possible. Education became not just the top priority, it was the ONLY priority. My parents. My grandparents. My teachers. My adult role models. The same chant rang through my ear, "All that matters is getting a good education."
Well. I did. I did what everyone freaking told me. I tossed away my application to that film school in Montana (which was pretty much my dream and, in addition to my fondness for hot men in kilts, explains why I saw Gladiator seven times in the movie theater) and sent in applications to the highest ranking liberal arts schools that I thought I could get into.
And then guess what? I did pretty well. And I loved it. And I wasn't ready to be done when I graduated in three years. I spent a year interning for a local government agency and then I applied to law school. My parents LOVED to tell their friends that their daughter was in law school. I didn't know if I was on the right track, but I loved to be the source of their smiles.
"Cool," I thought. "I must be doing something right."
But then something strange happened. I had a baby in my last year of law school. Then I graduated. Then I got a job. Full time. As an attorney. "Hey proud family! You must be REALLY proud now!"
SILENCE.
What? Didn't you hear me? I'm finally USING that education you guys wanted me to get so badly. I'm finally working in the field that you all were so proud of me to study in. Isn't that fantastic?!
SILENCE.
One thing I didn't count on was a weird sort of mutated double standard. According to what my world was telling me, it seemed, women should be educated and smart. But how dare they want to use their education in a work environment once they became moms. Initially, most of the pressure I felt was from my own stay-at-home mom. She kept insisting that I didn't have to work. That I could find a way to stay home with my baby. Even though she was gracious enough to watch my baby while I was at work, she would very adamantly insist in overly-judgy gazes that my baby needed ME not her. When I would pick my son up from her house she would say, "I can't replace you. You're his mommy."
I can't tell you how many tears I cried over the immense guilt I felt that first year. It was nearly unbearable at times. The criticisms around me compounded with the own insecurities I felt. I loved being an attorney. But was I sacrificing my child's needs for my own career?
When my son was 3, I tried to wean him from his binky. But every time I tried, my mom would sabotage me. "He needs his binky. It's his security. Because you're not there." Ouch. It was a struggle. Those first couple years. There are a handful of very vivid memories I have of me staying late after work, trying to catch up on my billable hours, sitting in front of my computer, gazing at the picture of my baby, and letting fat, wet, warm tears spring from my eyes. I cried silently. Alone. In my office. Wondering if I wasn't making the biggest mistake of my life.
Then one day, I overheard my grandma and my mom talking. My grandma (also a stay-at-home mom) was giving my mom an earful about how horrible it was that I would leave my baby to work all day. How horrible it was that my mom was raising my son.
Listening to my grandma talk, I couldn't help but succumb to the wave of self-pity that washed over me. But at the same time, I started to understand a little bit of what my own mom was up against. When she was criticizing my choice to go to work, she was projecting a little bit of the harsh judgment of the world in which she, herself, was raised. She was reflecting on all the broken homes that my childhood friends grew up in, a cause of which she always attributed to the fact that there was not a parent at home. She was projecting the voice and concerns of her own mother (my grandmother). This was new territory for her. This was a world she did not understand.
As my mom was about to respond to my grandma's harsh criticism, I expected another heavy blow. But when she opened her mouth to the telephone, I didn't hear what I expected. She told my grandma how proud she was of me. How well I'm doing juggling everything. How much I love my baby. How hard I am working for my family. How well my husband and I work together. The breath that had been squeezed out of my body just moments before, returned and filled my lungs once again. I felt hopeful.
At first, my mom was my harshest critic. But over time, she became my biggest fan. Even though I lived a life very different from hers and was trying to survive in a world that she could not even imagine, she learned to support me. This year on my birthday, she stuck a handwritten letter in the diaper bag. I found it after I pulled up to the house and parked the car. I sat there and poured over every single word. It was so uplifting. As I read each sentiment, I felt, for the first time that she finally understood. She finally appreciated. It was incredible how accurately she described my personal challenges and worries and addressed them head on with encouragement and support.
The other day when my mom said, "You're not the bad guy anymore." My family's long-lasting criticism made sense. I've been fighting a lonely uphill battle. Until then I didn't realize that, out of a very large family with 50+ cousins on both sides, the majority of whom are married, that I was the ONLY full-time working mom. Up until this summer, when my cousin returned to work after having her baby girl, I was it. Taking the criticism on my own. (Some of my aunts were working moms but I don't remember my grandparents ever criticizing them- I haven't figured that one out yet).
All this time I was the only one trying to change my family's very traditional definition of the term "mom." I wish I had worried less about what they thought and focused more on being happy with my own decisions. It's easy to feel unsure about your mothering choices, to let the feelings of the outside world chip away at you, when you yourself won't come to peace with your own insecurities. Ultimately, for me, finding a job that was a good fit for my family and having my mom on my side was the key to feeling secure about my choices.
While I've slowly come to terms with my own insecurities and developed a small little support team (my mom and my husband), my jobs have played a very critical factor in how I feel about my choice to be a working mom. And yes, it is cliche, but everything really does come down to balance.
My first job offered a great career but was bad for family. The second job was great for family but boring and a waste of my lawyer skills. The third job was a part time (30 hours) version of my first job. That still didn't work. The private law firm atmosphere plus my commute was just not family friendly, even for part time (omg, the stress! the billable hours, the commute!). My new job, and where I hope to stay for quite some time, combines the best of all my prior jobs- interesting and challenging work, without the crazy private law firm environment. My commute is amazingly short and I have just the right amount of family time. For the first time since I have embarked on my law career, there is not the faintest hint of mommy guilt associated with working.
On top of all that, I feel like my own kids are showing me that having a working mom is not a black mark. It turns out that having a working mom is just one of a series of possible positive and healthy experiences. The way Jacob gregariously approaches new people in an effort to turn every stranger into a friend, the way he bravely tries new things, and showers us all with hugs, smiles, and his laughter; the way Ryan is a brave and tough little bulldozer who is selective about his "friends" but showers those select lucky souls with boundless cuddles and loves, the way Ryan wants to sit at the big boy table like his brother, carry the grocery basket at the store, and bravely climbs the big toys to frightening (for his mama) heights. My boys are like any other boys. They are smart, adjusted, secure, loved and loving. They, above all else, are proof that this whole thing is working. And they are the best reward after a long hard day at the office.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)