Hostess Without

I like parties. I love meeting and talking to people but there's a reason I still haven't held a housewarming party and we've been here for 9 months and 23 days. I crumble under the pressure of being responsible for other people's happiness. Maybe that's why the boy is so bored now that he can walk, talk and basically have other little toddler friends.

I found an old notebook where I planned a pretty cute 2nd birthday for the boy a year ago and to be honest, if someone else had been in charge of carrying out my vision, it would have been an adorable party. He was obsessed with Toy Story at the time and so I thought it would be fitting to have star-shaped cantaloupe, cool ranch and barbecue chips with the appropriate quote from the first film, Teddy Grahams and strawberry frosting for Lotso Huggin' Bear, and other themed food. Sounds cute right? I hope. We did half the stuff that I mentioned and we didn't even really decorate.

So for the boy's 3rd birthday, I kept it really low-key. I mean really low, like two octaves below middle C. We invited our dear friends and their sweet little girl and my parents for a barbecue. I even asked our guests not to bring the boy any more toys (he has plenty to play with and I'm starting to wonder where to store all of it in an orderly manner). I love that the boy was born in March, it is so beautiful in AZ. There was a lovely breeze that allowed us to open the windows and doors and breathe in the fresh spring air. I knew this was the last year I could pull this off, so I did the least amount of work possible.

I think the reason why I feel so pressured to do something amazing for the boy's birthdays is the recent invention of Pinterest. It's an amazing site for all things, house and pretty much life related, but I wonder how many people actually pull off the parties that have been planned by SAHM, not a professional.

And one more for good measure...

Stay tuned for my thoughts on personality types :)

~Lady Jane

Theme Song

Music speaks to me. It makes me reflect on my life and certain people in my life have their own song. Anytime it comes on the radio, my thoughts immediately flutter back to that simpler time.

I didn't have a boyfriend in high school but I did have a good friend who happened to be a boy. His parents were always so nice to me and constantly thanked me for being their son's friend. I couldn't help but feel good loved and welcomed. He didn't always make the best decisions, but he tried and that's what counted. He was one of the few people that helped me celebrate my 16th birthday. He came over at Thanksgiving and fit in like one of the family. He was my best friend. So every time I hear this song, I think fondly of him.

I will admit I loved those silly Facebook games of discovering the soundtrack to your life. I really liked it when the songs fit the category, I didn't like it so much when it didn't match up. Sometimes I wish that I had a soundtrack to smile and cry to.

Although, every time I hear this song, it reminds of a boy that I did date for a brief moment.

I wasn't exactly sure what it meant to him that I reminded him of this song, especially since a few weeks later, it fizzled out.

But the boy that stole my heart and made me a wife and mother has too many songs that remind me of him. But the one that makes my toes curl and my heart fly is this classic:

The first time that we ever danced to this song, was in front of my house. He was dropping me off from a date and this song came on the radio. He parked the car, but instead of turning off the car, he turned up the radio. He escorted me from the car and without light but the headlights, we held each other and swayed.

I had read about two characters who shared the same experience and thought that was the most romantic thing I'd ever read. I had never told the husband about this dream of mine. He just knew somehow and made it true for me. 

Music is powerful and seeded with memories.


What's your favorite song? The one that makes you happy every time you hear it?

~Lady Jane

Catharsis

Writing really is cathartic for me.  I find that I work through my problems so much better when I've written about them. It's the release that I need to move on to the next chapter. I'm gonna get pretty personal for this post, so if you'd rather read fluff, wait until next time.

I've recently suffered a loss. Two losses actually. My grandmother passed away. A wonderful, service-oriented, bubbly, caring, cheerful, lovely woman. She wrote music and played the piano masterfully. Every time I play one of her arrangements of music, I feel her near me (even before she passed away), her soul is in music. This is how I will always remember her: forever connected to the piano.

I had a miscarriage. The hubs and I were really looking forward to having another little bundle in our home to love and hold, but twas not to be. I don't think that we'll be a single-child family, but if that is to be the case. I have an awesome little man to be grateful for! I mean look at that face, who couldn't love that? 

When I first found out that we weren't going to be having another baby, it was terrible! I cried all the time at the drop of a hat and was mad at every pregnant woman I knew or didn't know for that matter. But after I went in for a procedure, it was like the last punctuation had been placed on the last page and I could turn it and move on.

So that is what I'm doing, moving on. Due to the recent events, I'm no longer working as a vocal coach. My boss felt that I should take this time to heal and we were nearly done with the season anyway. I thought that was very sympathetic of her. I am looking forward to real meal planning again and just being able to use my time the way I want to.

Until next time,

Lady Jane