Living a dream

In the last seven days, I have lived a dream.  I was asked to do a session with a photographer whose talent humbles me and whose vision leaves me speechless.  It was a shoot of a lifetime for me and a total confidence builder that I was even asked to be a part of his vision.  Then a week later, I find myself modeling for the local newspaper's Holiday Fashion Guide.  I showed up and discovered I will be the only model in the glossy pull out that will be distrbuted to the entire Austin American Stateman circulation. 

The lesson I have taken from the past seven days is to use your connections, work for what you want, do not be afraid to ask for what you want and be thankful. 

The first shoot woke somethng up inside of me that has been dormat for far too long.  Those moments brought a heightened sense of life and they continue to electrify me.  I have renewed sense of being, sense of self and purpose.  I am not expecting to appear in any Covergirl ads anytime soon but to have soemthing all my own again feels good.  I am 36 and have had 2 kids if people want to pay me to take my picture I have two words for them: line up!

Open letter to PSU

My heart is heavy with sadness for the victims of the Penn State scandal and the innocent fans who cheer for their university.


Everyone involved from the players who had even a single thought that something was off, to the coaches who knew their fellow coach was a pervert, to the administration and school officers who either looked the other way or did not bother to look at all….. You should all be ashamed, fired and arrested.

Knock, Knock..

When opportunity knocks I tend to open the door, greet it, and offer it tea then hide under the table in the kitchen because I am scared to actually embrace the opportunity before me. Eventually I coax myself out from under the table and walk back in with my head held high and knock the challenge right out of the park but those few seconds are scary.

I received an email last week that sent me spiraling. A friend thought I resembled a model on a fashion website and he sent it to me as an FYI. We talked and I showed it to some others who agreed the unknown model and I had a familiar “look”. So on a whim; I emailed a photographer I know who does amazing and very expensive work to see if he would recommend a photographer that could update my head shots for me. I wanted equally amazing work for a less expensive price- I do have a mortgage to pay. His response shocked me. Yours truly, will be a photo subject for him at the end of the month for a series of 70s inspired photos. They will be used in his latest movie project and his life's current passion.  I do not know what they will look like but I trust him and am truly humbled he thinks I am up for that challenge.

You introduce me to a 6 foot girl that did not ever have the idea of modeling in the back of her mind and I will introduce you to a liar. It is in our DNA. I played around with the fashion industry in my twenties but did not concentrate on it as a profession. At 36, I am thinking it would be fun to revisit for a bit. I am too old for runways in exotic places and that actually takes quite of bit of pressure off because no one will see it as a failure if that level is not attained. More importantly, I will not see it as a failure.
I feel like a kid the night before Christmas. I am so freakin’ excited I cannot stand it. Stay tuned for pictures at the end of the month.

First Lesson in Physics

It is always allergy season in Austin, Texas. If you are here more than 5 years you will find something to sniffle at…it is that bad. So it is appropriate that Ella at 5 ½ years old is developing allergies.  This process is similar to a rite of passage in many cultures. Some tribes tattoo, some pierce skin or bind feet but in Austin we give Claritin to our kids. It is a small price to pay to live in beautiful Austin.
Saturday morning at 4AM Ella wakes me up to tell me her nose is stopped up and she “cannot get air in there”. I gave her some decongestant and slathered her with Vicks vapor Rub. Had it not been 4AM, I may have teared up while doing this. I cannot count how many times my mom lathered me up with that stuff. The next morning I always woke up smelling somewhat like bacon. It was gross but it worked.

I applied it under E’s nose and tucked her back into bed. She drifted back to sleep. The next morning she woke up and said, “Mommy, your stuff didn’t work.” She explained that one side of her nose was still “not working”. I asked what side she slept on and she smiled and said “THIS one!!” Then it clicked that the “stuff” moved over to the side she slept on and basically she thought that was REALLY cool.

I cannot and did not take credit for God’s design. It was a true delight to see E connect the dots and have the light bulb above her head go off. I love those moments. For me, the trade off for not having a baby to hold anymore is the moments like that one where something intangible is understood. The look in E’s eyes was priceless then the moment was gone and she said, “well, that stuff smells funny.” It was back to reality.

Gotta get out

I hate politics.  Ask anyone I know and they will tell you I hate politics.  The bad news is that I work in politics.  Worse news is that I thrive on politics.  Do you see my problem?  I have read the line between love and hate is a thin one and I think I zig zag across it daily.  Who is running for what, who is not running, who says they are running but really will not, who will be president and what does that do to the state offices..... the questions are endless and exhausting and at the end of the day absolutely useless to me in my everyday life.  I should get out but have no idea what else to do.  I am open for suggestions.  I have dreams of starting my own business, publishing my book, establishing a brand (I already have websites purchased) the kicker is that I need to make money and I have no clue how to do that. 

I am reading articles, websites and blogs about recognizing my value, putting a price on my talents, creating my own destiny and liberating myself from politics.  There are some great resources out there, for example: http://dailyworth.com/ but here I am still sitting on Square1.    My husband says it takes money to make money so what I apparently need is a sugar daddy or the desire to rid myself of my earthly belongings and see them all on  EBay  I just do not see either of them happening.

Crap, I have to go, a legislative office is on hold for me......

My Sobering Experience

My friend earned his one year sobriety chip last night. He asked me to attend his AA meeting and I agreed to go. I did not know what to wear or what kind of people I would encounter. I was feeling a little nervous, a little scared and secretly little superior to those I was sure would show up. The meeting was held on a university campus but close to downtown so I was sure there would be a mix of students and professionals. All of them would be addicts. I was sure I would not fit in with them.


The meeting promptly started and there I sat overdressed, arms crossed with open ears and an open heart. These people deserved my respect for what they have overcome and my pity for where they have been in their journeys to sobriety; didn’t they? I looked around and surmised the average age of the crowded room was 22. I was not just overdressed but now I felt old. The fresh, innocent faces showed few, if any signs, of their addictions. One by one, they put a voice to their struggles and it became clear that although I was older than most of them had lived enough for four lifetimes. The journeys and Hell they have seen and lived also made them wiser than I expected. It was a sobering thought when I realized I could learn a lot from an addict.

The meeting took place in a basement but the atmosphere loosely resembled a church. Actually, it resembled what a church should be. The honesty in the room was disarming. “Hi. I am John and I am an addict/alcoholic” I smirked when I first heard it because it really was just like in the movies. After hearing one testimony after another, the purity of their words and the strength of their faith was overwhelming. This was a room full of addicts and alcoholics; this was also a room full of Christians. My presence in a church should be viewed as a declaration that I am weak. I should stand and say, “Hi. My name is Wendy and I am a sinner,” but I don’t. I go to church once a week for an hour a week and I question why I feel lost at times. These people live church every minute everyday as a way to stay clean but more importantly alive.

A familiar theme in last night’s meeting was living not in the past or future but the present; this very moment. When you live in the moment you are fully present and can correct or address actions that cause you anxiety. When you live in the moment you do not regret a moment that you lived today next week. Then it hit me; I am not an addict or alcoholic but I am “one of them” only I strive to reach the level of faith that many of them live every day. We should all be so lucky to live with that kind of faith. I hate to think I would need an addiction to get me there.

To be blunt, I am inspired. There were no saints in that room last night. We were all sinners just trying to find our way.

You Can't Teach Boy

My baby boy, Boone, is 18 months old. He is expressive, strong willed and obsessed with balls of all types and size: footballs, basketballs, soccer balls, tennis balls. His fascination has become borderline obsessive. Given my athletic tendencies (I was a great high school athlete..) I have hoped that my son would be athletic. There is nothing wrong with a brainiac kid or a kid who would rather play the tuba than kick a ball but I have maintained the dream that my kid would be able to be/do those things and be highly coordinated with a competitive strike that would enhance his field performance. Just saying. And to take it a bit further, I have hoped he will be inclined to play baseball, golf, track, basketball, soccer- anything but football. I do not want my baby at the bottom of some pile of big ol’ boys or have his helmet crash into an over-amped wanna be hero. It is a wonder I can even sleep at night worrying about such things.


Anyway, back to balls; the college football season has begun. My husband’s mood has lifted considerably and despite the 100 degree temperatures you know Fall is just around the corner. (insert prayers here that Fall will bring 80 degree temperatures and a little rain) Last night Wisconsin played UNLV. The game was on in the living room and I walked in to find both the males in my family enjoying the game. Each time the ball was run baby boy would yell and clap and carry on. Hunt turned the channel and Boone cried. The moment I learned that you can’t teach “boy” was when I had to turn the TV in the kitchen from the Wonder Pets to the football game to get him to sit down and eat. He is 18months old! You cannot teach “boy” to an 18 month year old, they have it or they don’t. It looks like I got my wish and it is going to be a long college football season.

"Ugh, I won't talk to strangers". We had to tell her the answer was still, "no" to her request to walk to school all alone. Granted it is only 4 blocks away but these are uncertain times and the world has populated itself with some unsavory people even in West Central Austin. Besides that, she is only 5 years old.

Later that same night I was tucking E in and for the first time since we've been in the "big house" she did not ask for her closet light to be turned on. Instead we were able to enjoy the glow- in -the -dark stars that illuminated the ceiling directly above her bed. Together we tried to count the stars and began to say our prayers. I kissed her cheek got up to leave when she stopped me by saying, "mommy, don't want my closet light on. Everyone knows monsters don't live in closets.
"That's right, baby," I offered. She quickly added, "they walk thru doors".

(Gulp). My mind flashed back to our earlier conversation about her not walking to school by herself. It is my earnest prayer E does not ever have first hand experience about how true her monster statement was. They do walk through doors and that is why I lock mine.

She Waved Goodbye

There I stood holding one baby on my hip and watching the other one walk away to her future. Oh sure, she was only walking herself to the cafeteria where her kindergarten teacher would be waiting to take her to the classroom but she walked in the school…… alone.


We are lucky enough to get to walk E to school every morning. We even get to walk up which will be really funny when it snows. She will get to tell her kids that she walked uphill in the snow to school every morning and actually not be exaggerating—bonus! This morning during our walk to school E said it would be okay with her if I just dropped her off in the car tomorrow. I asked if she was ready to unbuckle her seat belt and carry her back-back all by herself because I would not be able to get out of the car. Her answer was simply, “Yes, I’ll be okay”. I swallowed hard and said but we like to walk you to school, Daddy really likes it. She replied, “Well then Daddy can walk me but you could just drop me off.” I ended the conversation by saying we would talk about it later.

We then approached the school. I parked the stroller got Baby Brother out and on my hip and started up the stairs. E stopped me and said “Mom, I wanted you to stay on the stairs.” I was taken aback, “You don’t want us to walk you in?” Her response, “I know where to go, I’ll be okay. I love you.” She waved and then closed the doors behind her. I swallowed the lump in my throat.

It was the most honest of conversations. She was not trying to hurt me nor was she embarrassed of me, she only wanted to assert her independence. She wanted to go in alone.

It occurred to me in that moment that it has taken me all of my 36 years of life to be as independent as my daughter is at 5 years old. I must be doing a good job.