molly corin and hazel both take violin at their school (i know- rad, right?). MC had a problem with her violin bow as all of the hairs were coming loose so i drove to the rental store with the jacked-up bow and shared that we pay for the insurance coverage that covers any possible damage (or so it was sold to me). the clerk responded that the hairs on the bow are not covered, that if my kid would have snapped the bow in two they would replace the bow free of charge but today i would have to purchase a new bow. at this point i do not make a stink, but mentally store away what a stupid policy this is and pay the $20 to get a new bow. the order is placed and we await the brand spankin’ new fabulous bow of wonder.

this store is not close to my home, so when they called to say it was ready i should have made sure they weren’t going to suck precious moments of my life from my hands, but instead i took them at their word and went in. “nope, we shouldn’t have called you because the bow is nowhere to be found.” awesome. sweet. thanks. several days later, when it comes in i rally all three kids in the car to pick up the bow. after school the following day mc informs me they ordered a too-small bow and we will have to go back. somebody insert some wine and chocolate at this part of the story because that would require two trips: one back to alert them to the problem where they would hopefully order the right size and then another to pick up. i didn’t do such a good job with the ol’ boundaries and so i sat on it and waited and the jacked-up bow got worse.

fast forward to earlier this week: i went to the store with jacked-up bow and tiny bow and explained that jacked-up bow is no longer functional and that we would like to return tiny bow (which was never played or even rosined) and kindly get the right-sized bow. at which point the nice gentlemen tells me i cannot return the brand-new, unused, tiny bow but will need to purchase a new bow. i explain quite calmly and kindly that it was not my mistake that brought us to the incorrect bow size and while i will gladly own that i didn’t come in quickly, i will not absorb the cost for their mistake. we go back and forth and he explains the policy. they will not accept the bow they wrongly ordered (tiny bow), and if the jacked-up bow were broken in half it would be covered by the insurance, but as it is with the hairs falling out i would be responsible for buying the correct size bow.

and this is when i turn and there is a mirror magically to the side of me and i start to hear eminem’s song from 8 mile. i had gone to the gym that day so i was able to pull up my hoodie and explain that if i wanted to i could go into the parking lot and snap this bow that has the strings coming off in half and he would have to give me the right-sized bow. he says yes in theory that is correct. and laughs at me. mmmm, okay let’s give him the benefit of he has never met me before and does not know that he took the only two hours i had free on the last of day of a week with my hubby out of town. and then let’s calmly walk out of the store because we are all mature adults. “have a nice day” he says with a wee little giggle that only leprechauns and fairies can hear because it was that tiny.

i walked out to the door to a team of moms wearing capes and jumping up and down to a beat that i had never heard before. walking to the car beyonce gave me a high five and oprah told me to look under the seat in our minivan because everybody was going home with a free can of “oh no you didn’t”. then this boxing ring appeared out of nowhere and tina fey was squirting water in my mouth and amy poehler put a towel around my neck and started yelling at me, but the good kind of yell the one that makes you wanna get up and break something… but what could i possibly break in this random parking lot in Cary, NC?

as i opened the violin case i heard a layer of classical music layered as only the most masterful dj could on top of eminem’s words…

Look
If you had
One shot
Or one opportunity
To seize everything you ever wanted
In one moment
Would you capture it
Or just let it slip

i stepped on the bow and let it ricochet like my hopes and dreams of sipping a warm beverage while collecting my thoughts during this last break from the kids. eminem gives me the nod he knew i had it in me. Beyonce, Oprah, Tina and Amy lift me up on their shoulders and carry me back to the entrance of the rental establishment. i have flashbacks to all the women who have gone before and as they dance across my thought reel I give them each the nod i have just learned from eminem. the dust settles. i take a deep breath– you know the one right after you do something hard that needed to be done but where there is one more moment of courage before the deal is done. Holding the remains of the shattered bow, i walked back in and said i have a broken bow that needs replacing, but it’s okay…

i have the insurance.

it was just an email. it didn’t mean to make me reevaluate my entire life and the decisions before me. it was just meant to say “hey that year of this domain you paid for is up and we need another $13 to keep it going there missy”. but what i heard was something very different. 

i heard “you don’t do enough with this website to make it worth it.” “you spend time and money on something that doesn’t seem to be making much of a difference for you or those popping in.” “wish you would’ve found that thing that your life was meant to be poured out for.”

let me go back… when i was little my dad had a plastic bucket that he threw his pennies in. it was deep and full of coppery goodness. this was not a bucket to be counted and sorted, placed in sleeves, and taken to the local hardware store. this was our poker money. he would pull out the bucket and the deck of cards and teach us the game and the adventure that is the game of family poker. each of us received a handful of pennies and we were told to ante up. i really cherished these sporadic times of togetherness and learning the art of the bluff. it took wisdom to assess both your hand and that of your opponent, how to calculate risk versus payoff and when to risk it all. but the lesson that was most applicable to normal life was the call to ante up.

in life we are good at calculating risk. we are good at assessing the hand we have been dealt and comparing it with the hand that those around us hold. but the part that seems to be the most elementary is that part i am struggling with here as i approach 40. can i throw in my initial penny to get a place at the table, having no knowledge of my chances or the chances of success for those around me? this year i am going to focus on throwing my penny in. of taking my seat at the tables that i want to participate in and saving my penny when it’s a table i don’t need to pull a chair up to.

as you may have guessed by the fact that you are reading anything at all i invested my whopping $13 to renew my claim on this domain name and have invested in a seat at the table. i have become increasingly aware in this past year that i love to teach, i love to write and that i love to walk the road with people and rejoice with those who rejoice and mourn with those who mourn. so here’s my investment. where do you need to throw your penny in?

i was having a day. the kind of day that makes people tilt their head to the side and without a word hand you the wine out of their grocery carts upon realizing you are in the toddler years. with this toddler, no suggestion was acceptable. the mere mention of two options to choose from elicited screams of NOOOOOOOO and arms crossed and loud stomping in the customary hello kitty rainboots that anyone with keen fashion sense would pick on a 94 degree day. we had had a day and neither of us were singing it’s praises nor each others. we needed to retreat to our respective corners and have someone squirt water into our mouths and put a towel around our shoulders before heading into the next round.

we are potty training currently, which i cannot for the life of me figure out why the government hasn’t adopted as a legitimate interrogation technique (you won’t talk huh? well here’s your two-year old to potty train knock on the glass when you’re ready to talk), and so the flailing and emotional breakdowns are blooming like spring flowers after a thorough rain. after sitting her on the potty she began to flail and then go limp followed by stiff and throw her arms at any surrounding objects and that was when the bowl broke. this bowl, made in the pottery class my mother and i took, shot across the bathroom counter and flew into the sink splitting in two. and i just grabbed my mouth and started weeping. there were really only two substantial pieces that came out of that pottery experience- my lovely bowl and a tiny little cup that i intended to be a pot for a plant but kept getting smaller and smaller as i messed it up. after serving years as a guitar pick holder it is currently holding q-tips- like 10 of them.

when she saw me upset she said “awwwwwww i break your bowl?” and i said yes she broke my bowl to which she replied “mommy’s sad”. now look, i have spent at the veryleast 9 years making rainbows out of compost piles. your necklace broke shazaaaam now you’ve got two fabulous bracelets! Someone was super-rude today at school and hurt your feelings? here’s your favorite dinner ever; what a fabulous turn of events! you lost your very favorite rock? let’s take out the paints and dress up these other rocks and then send them out to find your lost friend! as a mom your heart breaks when theirs does and you can’t make everything better, but you can make some stuff better and so you give it your all.

the important lesson i am trying to impart on my lovely tiny humans in this particular season is that sometimes the only thing you can do is be with people. so i told nora may yes mommy is sad because i really liked that bowl and the memories it brought up to see it in the bathroom. she said “awwwww… momma…i sorry i broke your bowl.” and i said i forgave her and knew she didn’t mean to and that it was an accident but it was sad and i would love a hug to help me feel better. she gave a good snuggle and we read some books and headed to nap.

when you major in turning frowns upside down or bringing cheer where there is sadness it becomes a bit jarring for you yourself to walk through the hard. can i cry here at my broken bowl or am i supposed to smash it to pieces in order to make a mosaic and write some fabulous poetry about the beauty that results from being broken? well, the answer to that may change based on the day, but on this particular day i needed to cry a good round of tears out of my personal inventory and know that i can still cherish the time spent with my mom in the class and that i didn’t ruin every piece attempted and let it rest.

today i am going to attempt to glue the bowl. things break. bowls. people. relationships. and you are left mourning the beauty that you once enjoyed but sometimes the reality is that you need to piece back together what was broken. my bowl will not look as it once did and it will not be proof that i can make something beautiful out of pottery but instead it will be a sign that all is not lost and the new bowl can still remind me that a new beauty is always waiting to be realized.

where is your bowl today? if it broke in two and you need to weep a bit and mourn the loss then grab you some tissues and settle in. give yourself room to be sad and let someone you love in, sharing that you may need a snuggle post-tear/snotfest. or, are you holding a hammer? does this memory and experience need to be totally rediscovered in a new form? then put on your safety goggles and loud music and bust that junk up. don’t try to plan what will result, just bang away knowing that season of that bowl has passed and there can be incredible beauty in it’s new form. don’t rush the process. maybe today is smashing day and you will sit with the pieces for quite some time before recreating it. grab your gloves and smash away. when you have sat with the sadness or the pieces of what once was long enough then grab some glue and piece by piece my brave soul begin to make something remarkable. it may never be what it was, but maybe we are done with what it was and need to begin to enjoy what it will be.

taylor swift,

there are so many things that i want to say to you, but mostly i want you to know that my oldest thinks that you hung the moon and the stars. nary a day goes by without coming upon sheets of paper where molly corin (aka mc) has written out the words of the song she is obsessed with for that day and strewn them about so that we all might have a high fashion, cat loving, killer songmaking cloud of you to fall upon.

mc has trained her 2 year-old sister to sing your lyrics and shout “t swiz!” anytime i ask what the request for the radio is. she has made sure that your cd is in the player down by their 10-inch stage their father built them in the basement so that she can perfect her show. anytime your lovely face is found in any publication it’s cut out and hung up in her room.

her birthday party in april will be a taylor swift party and so if you have any ideas feel free to send ’em on down to north cackalacky. we had the fortunate opportunity to see you in concert in greensboro in the fall and when you were getting the crowd pumped for the guest you had brought with you my sweet 8 year-old daughter gasped and said, “oh mommy do you think she brought her cats so we could meet them?!”

i say all that to say this: my girl is phenomenal. she is smart and beautiful and full of life. she is funny and has killer dance moves and a heart of gold. she likes to dabble in fashion design and since she was 3 i have let her dress and express herself in the way she feels most comfortable. last week she came in with a spare piece of leftover fabric that she had wrapped around her torso and said, “mom! look at this cool shirt i just made!”. here’s where you came in. i said that it looked cool but didn’t cover much of her body and so maybe she could pretend she was a movie star and rock that top with a robe on too. she liked that idea and we were able to progress through the evening with grace.

fast forward two days to when you rock the red carpet at the grammys. you wore an outift remarkably similar to her outfit with her homemade top and bright pink leggings. my friend texted immediately and did the side by side comparison shot and my little girl’s day was made!

i know you didn’t know that my little girl likes to wrap pieces of unused fabric around her torso nor the color combo that she would go with for that particular day, but what followed was one of the greatest sentences ever uttered… “mom, i like to think that i inspired her with my outfit!” so well done you! you have inspired so many in the way that you create music, treat fans, and remain a class act. thank you for feeling so accessible to my little girl that she thinks she inspired you right back.

Hello! My name is Molly Corin. I am an 8 year old, and I am going to turn 9 soon- in april, actually. I am delighted to be a guest blogger!!!!!! This is what I would like to say about what 8 year-olds need from their moms… 

Love

I think snuggles are the best!!!!! #1 rule of life-get at least 3 snuggles a day. We depend on our moms to do lots of things, but mostly love us. It helps us if we know that you are here for us. No matter what. It helps us build confidence. And we know if anything happens, you will be there.

What we love

I play the violin, and I think music is one of the best things ever! I love music!!!!! Other kids might not like music as much as I do, but they do have that little place inside their heart, and everyone loves something so much, something that is so cool it seems that we were put on earth to do that thing. You guys can help us make that dream come true.

Choices

Since we are 8 years old now,it seems old-even to the parents. We want to make more choices, and we want you to trust us. When you say no to something we really want to do, we feel like you will not let us do anything. This is not true though, but we want you to trust us. Kids- one way you can help your parents trust you more is by not telling lies.

Have fun!!!!!!!

We want to know you well. One way that you can spend more time with your child is by planing a weekly date to do something fun, like going out for hot cocoa. That time you will really get to know your child. Try to have a weekly date, or every other week. My mommy and me do mommy daughter dates.

Thank you for reading my blog post!!!!!

Molly Corin Stevens

*photo credit: Amaris Hames

i have climbed every mountain. i have followed every stream. i have followed every rainbow till i found my dream. well, that may be embellishing a bit. what i have really done is i went to the ymca this week and wait for it… no, i did not discover the secret to fitness, weight loss or how to fine tune this gift of an instrument God has given us, but i did take a shower which in this season is arguably the same.

it wasn’t the warm shower without little people running in to tell me who has had a longer turn with the beloved piece of scrap fabric that has become the doll pet’s blankie to sleep with in the doll pet bed we have constructed out of leftover cardboard boxes, or because the shower was warm and i didn’t care how long it took. it wasn’t even because the heavens opened and the sun shone and i remembered for the first time to bring my face cleanser. it was because after my shower i turned the corner and saw my reflection.

so it turns out that the day before was one of the 5 days of the year that i took time to put on makeup. the only problem with this is that no one should be expected to remember that and to pack eye make up remover. i believe we should all be making the mmmm sounds that people who are too shy to “amen!” in church make to show their intense approval of that last comment, because let’s remember that i had already gotten a gold star for the face cleanser.

so i turned the corner and saw the huge black circles under my eyes and panicked. first i calmly went to the area where you wash your hands and i grabbed a complimentary q tip and wet it ever so gracefully and then gently went to and fro to remove the black eyes i had upon completion of my celebratory bathing. when that didn’t work, and seeing how intense the damage was, i acknowledged that desperate times called for desperate measures and i looked around me to ensure i was alone, then squirted some of the mouthwash into a cup and hoped that the bacteria that causes bad breath were remarkably similar to the things that remove mascara. now we are vigorously scrubbing and there is no progress. now a normal person would simply push their fraggle-like hair that is in desperate need of a haircut and put it as far over the eyes as possible and exit the premesis. however, i do not believe i need to bring forth any additional support for the thesis that i am not in fact normal. so i went ahead and got some hand soap and braced myself and gave it the old college try. nope apparently the mascara i had bought was bullet proof and would not go down without a fight.

and it was in this glorious moment as i stood wrapped comfortably in my square foot towel with my two black eyes which were now underlaid with puffy redness from the efforts to appear more together than i am that i realized my calling.

i would be an absolutely astounding “before” model.

Me at my prime: high school beach week;)

you know those pictures where you show the sad, lame, totally strugglin’ lady on the left and then the lady who’s life is forever changed because of your product on the right?! i feel like i would be an absolute dream to have in this position. on any given day, i wear powder with spf and a few swipes of blush if i remember.

do not wish for me that i would get a make up tutorial or even that i would find a skin care routine that would benefit everyone. i’m gonna take this fraggle rock, junior-high “just-learning-how-to-use-make-up” show on the road and earn my dolla dolla billz y’all. if we are close you better reserve some room in my squad because this here “before” is going places and you may just wanna be seen with her on all the social medias soon, but probably on the right side ya know the “after” shot.