The Beauty of the Little Basil Plant

To fully understand this post, you must know that I am a recovering "big-achiever." I am driven by grand ideas, and I get a wonderful high when I have accomplished them.  Then onto the next.  A means-to-an-end kind of girl--push, rush, pull with everything you've got--and most of the time it gets me somewhere.

I consider myself to be "recovering" because I have had glimpses of the alternative, and I like it.  Such as my basil plant.  You see, we bought our house and by far the best feature about it was the backyard--big and spacious, with endless possibilities.  I look at it and my mind starts whirling with ideas, ways to completely transform that space into something magical that everyone can enjoy.  Whenever I look at it I want to just DIVE IN.  To get 'er done and bask in my lawn chair soaking up my success.  But then there is a part of me that knows that when I say "yes" to this huge project, I am saying "no" to the stress-free family days we made time for on Saturdays.  And that this isn't really the rest that I so desperately need in the midst of practicum, school, and raising a family.

So instead I planted a basil plant, in a stunning turquoise pot, right on the edge of the patio. That little plant brought wonderful smells and its own vibrant green magic into our yard. Skyler, Aurora and I took turns watering it every few days, and trimming the leaves every so often to make delicious pesto.  The beauty of the little basil plant was that I got a yummy taste of my grandiose dreams of gardening and a life-giving backyard, without the consequences of over-commitment and unrealistic expectations.

Someday I will have an amazing backyard that will be the home of many parties, celebrations, and lazy weekend mornings.  But for now, during this time of replacing all our plumbing and transitioning to two working parents, we will happily tend to our little basil plant. 

On this New Year's Eve, I encourage you to look at your 2014 resolutions and pare them down a bit.  Not to give up on your dreams, but to make them more accessible.  What small, fits-well-into-your-life change can bring a sense of accomplishment to you this year?  

My Two-Year-Old's Best Birthday Ever

Aurora just turned two yesterday.  For everyone who has been traveling this journey with us--CRAZY, right?  It is so true that the days go by slow and the years fly right past you.

As if society doesn't put enough pressure on people to throw their child the biggest and best birthday party (I think its supposed to be three-months salary or something like that), Aurora was going on for weeks that this was going to be "her best birthday ever."  Yes, it was only her second, and it shouldn't be hard to top her one previous birthday that she can't even remember--and yet, I felt the weight of making it epic.  So after lots of brainstorming and Skyler's concerned warnings that I try to be flexible, we threw a little party for her while we were camping with our community group, and then spent her special day at Disneyland, just her and Mommy.

I count the party as a success by the standards that: 1) Most kids participated in most of the activities 2) The cupcakes survived traveling and made it to consumption 3) I got cute pictures out of the whole ordeal which will hopefully make Aurora feel like she had a good childhood.

Disneyland was magical, hot, activity-filled, and crowded.  Aurora's favs were Autotopia, the carousel, and meeting the characters. It was really sweet that she got to get behind the wheel in Autotopia, and her "driving" consisted of hysterical laughter as the car slammed into the guiding rail and she got to catch the steering wheel as it spun out of control.  My job was to hold her in her seat, push the gas and enjoy that wonderful laugh that marks pure joy.  She was willing to wait as long as it took to meet Mickey, Minnie, and Tinkerbell, and after hours in line Mom insisted that a high-five from Pluto and a wave from Goofy as they passed by was good enough.  She was overwhelmed when she actually got her chance to interact with them, and while she melted into hugs, smiling just didn't seem to be appropriate in the moment.  She wanted to give it the proper weight and reverence, I think.

Below are some pictures. I will look back on them fondly, and hope that her motto for next year is along the lines of "special-no-matter-what birthday," to make planning a little easier.

Hat making for the party.

Pin the candle on the cupcake.

Sticky s'mores!  

Hiding out in Tarzan's Playhouse.

Expressing her not-so-secret dislike for taking pictures.

Tea at Minnie's.

Cruisin' in Autotopia.

Chasing bubbles with her light-up sword while we wait for the parade.