We are a musical family. My husband is a sound engineer, I was in vocal performance for years and years and both of my children love to sing and dance to music. When I am home with the kids during the day we always have music playing, usually the same albums over and over but the boys and I stop for impromptu dance parties and break it down with the best of them.

This summer I’d like to introduce the boys to new music, we listen to a lot of bluegrass, a lot of James Brown, a lot of the Glee soundtrack, a lot of Jack Johnson, a LOT of Foo Fighters. Varied, yes, but the same stuff over and over. This summer I want to expand my children’s musical horizons(and by extension my own). I am looking forward to discovering all sorts of new (or at least re-discovering stuff that is not in heavy rotation) tunes and having late summer night dance parties for the next few months!

First up? An Album I have had since I was a sophomore in college. Songs to Live By by the Square Egg is a solid funk, jazz album. It has catchy tunes and easy to sing along with lyrics.

We are enjoying Hello Sunshine with our lunch today! We hope you will too!

Tagged ,

Memory of a workplace

I am 20. Maybe 19. I have been at college long enough to know my way around, but not long enough to legally go out drinking. I am on about 40 milligrams of Celexa a day, with the occasional Xanax for panic attacks triggered by having to leave my house and meet new people. (Agoraphobia and going to college are not a great combination)

I am working at the scene shop of a theatre on campus. It’s a small house, only a couple hundred seats, they do mostly opera and upperclassmen projects. I work in the mornings mostly, we are able to make our own schedule and I was a morning person so I went in when we opened at 8:00 in the morning and I worked till my first class at noon-ish. I work with a man named Bill, he is the TD of the opera company but also runs the shop. Bill was probably in his mid 30’s, he seemed dramatically older than me at the time but he probably had graduated from ASU only about 10 or 12 years prior. He was married but hated talking about his wife. He had silver rimmed glasses and shoulders so broad you could land a plane on them. He was an unapologetic liberal, a noisy one and as we were the only two people in the shop first thing in the morning, he turned the radio up and yelled at the talking heads. Between radio call in shows he taught me how to use a band saw, how to assemble basic flats in under 5 minutes. He taught me the right way to coil cable and didn’t expect me to talk very much. A few months into it he had me in charge of doing a lot of ordering. I sat at a battered desk, covered in paint and pitted, I filled out forms in triplicate and leaned over as Bill signed things on my back, hammer in his rights hand, nails clamped in his teeth.

It was a dream job.

I am 23, about to leave for London to live with a friend for several months. I have put in for a leave of absence at the job I have been at for the last 2 years. I answer phones, organize research for grants, and develop marketing materials for a non-profit housing organization. I work with my mother and the man who will one day be my step father. I have learned to use several different graphic design programs, I spend the majority of my day at a computer, the long thin muscles I developed using power tools and lifting scenery are less defined.

I started at this job answering phones and talking to clients. I was not particularly suited for this aspect of the job, but I was dynamite at compiling research materials for grants and writing letters to people who might give us money. So I developed my own position.

Several years later, I visit the office and notice they are still using the marketing materials I developed. I am proud…but distressed to notice how dated it looks.

I am 26 years old. I have not taken anxiety medication in 2 years, I have a son and 2 marriages under my belt. I am, in truth, a wholly different person.

I write grants for an established theatre company in Arizona. I help plan parties. I talk to funders and convince them to give us $1000 more a year even though we are in the middle of a recession. I love my job, I work with 2 women who are forces of nature, hilarious and beautiful, driven and classy. We make each other laugh and frequent the tiny Mexican joint near our office for margaritas after big events.

I cannot believe my luck at finding this job. It’s perfect.

6 months after I start, they lose funding for my position. Last hired, first fired.

I am curiously not devastated, just curious at how they are going to finish the stack of funding letters sitting on my desk. I find out later that they never do and in the following year have to lay off about 70% of their staff.

On Monday, for the first time in 3 years, I sat at a desk and did some basic work. Pulled some files and printed off some forms. I am working in the nursery at our church, as a temporary fill in for a friend. I am on my feet a lot in my new job, picking up kiddos and carrying them around, talking to parents. I am well suited for it, at ease with both the children and their parents. I find myself being incredibly patient in many situations, I learn from the staff I am in charge of: how to talk to kids, the quickest way to clean a whole box of Legos. I am almost never in the office, almost always in the nursery itself.

But as I sat at my desk on Monday, the memories of the desks I have done thousands of minutes of busywork upon came flooding back. And I was filled with a lightness, and a joy.  A sense of satisfaction.

I have worked at a lot of jobs, many of them had no desks, but all of them fulfilled me, comforted me, in their own ways. All of them have been exactly what I needed at that point in my life. And I am terrifically grateful for that.

Adrienne Rich, 1929 – 2012

from Cartographies of Silence

“No. Let me have this dust,
these pale clouds dourly lingering, these words

moving with ferocious accuracy
like the blind child’s fingers

or the newborn infant’s mouth
violent with hunger

No one can give me, I have long ago
taken this method

whether of bran pouring from the loose-woven sack
or of the bunsen-flame turned low and blue

If from time to time I envy
the pure annunciation to the eye

the visio beatifica
if from time to time I long to turn

like the Eleusinian hierophant
holding up a single ear of grain

for the return to the concrete and everlasting world
what in fact I keep choosing

are these words, these whispers, conversations
from which time after time the truth breaks moist and green. ”

Rest now, brilliant mind.

On Profits, pundits, and getting shit done (Part 2)

I’ve been ruminating on this part. And I won’t lie, I am grossly unqualified to take on the racial implications of 3 white boys rushing in to “save” Africans.And I am grossly unequipped to objectively discuss how I feel the “white mans burden” is propelling this movement forward faster than many other valid causes. I can’t speak objectively about the required emotional manipulation that is necessary for Invisible Children to raise so much money in such a short time. I struggle to discuss these things because I can only approach them steeped in my own privilege.



I give it over to the much much muchmuchmuch more qualified, equipped educated voices to talk for me. Go, read, learn.

Solome Lemma offers an incredibly helpful piece on how to approach an emotional call to arms.

An impassioned piece discussing race and activism and KONY2012 from Malaka Gyeke Grant

An interview with Jacob (the young boy featured in the video)

Ida Horner discusses the larger implications of the campaign.


These are just a few of the many African voices discussing Invisible Children and the KONY2012 campaign.

For all I defended Invisible Children as a non-profit organization, please know that I struggle with some things as well. I think the discussion needs to focus more on what the wider implications of this campaign are: racially, from a class standpoint and what it means for pursuing peace in the area. I feel that punishing a non-profit for paying the people who work for them, or renting an office, or traveling to get the word out is ridiculous and only detracts from getting shit done.


on profits, pundits, and getting shit done (Part 1)

There is a video making the rounds today. It is a slickly produced little number put out by a heretofore fairly unknown American non-profit organization called Invisible Children. Go ahead and Google it (Kony2012 will bring it up), watch it, feel way moved to write a check, Invisible Children is GOOD at what they do.

But what is it exactly, that they do? Because there is a massive controversy surrounding Invisible Children and the work they do. There has been for a while now, but this particular campaign is garnering very visible support and so the opponents of the org are becoming more vocal as well.

Before I get into all that let me say that I have no dog in this fight except for the fact that for almost the entirety of my adult professional career I worked for non-profits. Every job I have had since I was 19 has been dependent on grants received, whether from private funders or the government. So I know about non-profits. To be sure I have never worked on a national or international scale, I’ve never worked for an NGO in a war zone or a clinic that has offices in every state but I have answered phones, emptied trash cans, written grants and designed flyers for a variety of organizations that depend entirely on the goodness of other people’s hearts.

Oh, and also? My family give Invisible Children about $35 a year.

So the dog is, like, the size of a beagle.

Everyone still with me? excellent.

“Invisible Children’s overall mission is to remove Joseph Kony from the battlefield and stop LRA violence. These are the three essential ways we achieve that mission: 1) Document and make the world aware of the LRA. This includes making documentary films and touring these films around the world so that they are seen for free by millions of people. 2) Channeling the energy and awareness from informed viewers of IC films into advocacy campaigns that have mobilized the international community to stop the LRA and protect civilians. 3) Operate programs on the ground in the LRA-affected areas to provide protection, rehabilitation and development assistance.” (This is a direct quote from IC’s Communications Director, Noelle Jouglet, in a reddit discussion regarding the controversy surrounding IC)

Essentially, what she’s saying is that Invisible Children is in the activism commodity business. They sell the idea that giving them $25 as a college student is helping to change the world for the better.

Sound callous? It is a bit. But it’s the most effective way to communicate what they do. I would maintain that very little of the good Invisible Children does is actually boots on the ground getting people out of harms way work and more about spreading knowledge and awareness.

Now that we have established what it is I think they do, let’s talk about the controversy shall we?

First we’ll look at the financial issue:

Invisible Children is a registered 501 (c) 3 in the US. Because of this they are required to disclose all their financial information. (Side note: If you are curious about a non-profits financial affairs your best bet is to look at what is commonly referred to as their 990. It’s a form that all non-profits are required to file with the IRS that provides information on programming and finances. It’s sometimes hard to find but it’s totally accessible to anyone.)

When people started looking at IC’s financials they did not like what they saw. CEO’s and founders making 5 figure salaries, money for computers, money for offices, money for travel, money for everything except what people thought to be the most important, getting children out of the clutches of the LRA.

People were outraged. HOW could an altruistic person pull down a large salary? HOW could an organization defend hundreds of thousands of dollars on video productions costs? Or travel expenses? SICKENING.

People were uncomfortable with the fact that IC does not have 5 independent voting members on their board. (The discomfort stems from the fact that this could be perceived to be a conflict of interest, or an attempt to hide actual spending from the public at large since the board makes most of the spending decisions)

When it came to this point of the controversy I was outraged. Not because I, too, felt misled and horrified that IC was spending money on such things, but that people still felt that a non-profit had to operate in some sort of beautiful fantasy land outside of the real world where things like employees and offices and computers weren’t necessary to further a cause.

Since I began working for non-profits one of the most tired arguments I faced was: “How can you take money away from the people you are trying to serve by taking a salary?” In NO OTHER SECTOR OF BUSINESS does someone look at a talented CEO and say: “you are selfish for earning as much as you do for doing your job” As though people working for a non-profit should volunteer their time and talent to the organization they feel passionate about.

Here is what it is to work at a non-profit: accounting for every penny you bring in and where it goes, spending long evenings at the end of your fiscal year to make sure all the numbers line up in your budget, actually volunteering your weekends and evenings for events because there is no more money left for overtime, working from home during your maternity leave because only 2 people in the office know how to do what you do and you’re one of them, convincing people every year that your cause is worth it to them even though last year they thought it was just fine. Putting in 50, 55, 60 hours a week. Hitting up your family and friends for money when your major donors fall through.

The list goes on and on.

Working for a non profit organization takes time, it takes talent, it takes offices with copiers and reams of paper, it takes going to out of town conferences and having to stay at a hotel so you can be on top of the latest trainings, so you can make the best connections, it takes turning on the lights, it takes buying the staff lunch when you’ve made them work late 4 nights in a row. It takes good mother fucking health insurance so you can get the best and brightest people wanting to work for you!

Yes, in a perfect world, 100% of the money you donate to an organization would immediately go right back out the door to the people it is trying to help. But in a roundabout way? It does. For every slick video produced, for every salary paid, for every cup of coffee made you are doing something to further the cause you care about. Because you are supporting the people who brought the cause to your attention, you are supporting the people who are doing what they can to get money to this cause.

And when we begin to look at the breakdown of how Invisible Children does business (looking at their 990, the ACTUAL posting from Charity Navigator (as opposed to Reddits interpretation and Visible Childrens interpretation of the Reddit discussion) and other assorted resources) we see that 80% of the money they bring in goes toward programing which is better than it’s been made out to seem. And for the work they do I think it’s a perfectly acceptable number.

And what is the work that Invisible Children does? Remember up at the top? Where I talked about IC being in the activism commodity business? This is the part that is going to make people uncomfortable and a little angry but stick with me.

While, yes, Invisible Children wants to get children away from Joseph Kony and the LRA, what they REALLY want to do is get you to CARE about getting children away from Joseph Kony and the LRA. When you give money to Invisible Children you are buying the idea that the more people who know about these atrocities the more good will be accomplished. You’re not actually buying a room for a child soldier to sleep in while he’s getting rehabilitated.

What I am saying that spending $25 on a tshirt is not necessarily getting anything tangible accomplished, but it IS getting more people to ask you “what’s up with your tshirt?” And in the land of slacktivism, the message is king.

Is this the perfect way to stop the atrocities that Joseph Kony is committing. Probably not, and in part 2 (coming tomorrow) we’ll discuss the problematic imagery of privileged white college students trying to “save Africa” and the issues that I, as a pacifist, have with the organizations history with the Ugandan military.

But this is one of the best ways I have ever seen getting young people engaged and becoming passionate about something outside of themselves. Invisible Children is doing an incredible job raising awareness about their cause, doing it in a way that gets people all over the world, from all different backgrounds talking about it…and for that I begrudge them not a penny of the money they have raised.


Luke and I are on staff for our church’s college group. It is a tremendous group of kids who are so on fire for Christ in a time in their lives when loving God is not a priority. I am incredibly blessed to share my Thursday nights with these young people, and time and again they have taught me the true essence of worship.


Every now and then bloggers give their readers a glimpse into the daily bits and bobs that make up their days…I quite enjoy it and so I thought I would share a little bit of our day with you as well. (hover over the pictures for what time it is and some other little details!)

8:30 am...sleeping in!

Rise and Shine!

Breakfast nook with a view of leftover renewal flowers!

Primping and Teaching! "Will it float?"

Will it float and making boats...

Lunch Prep...


still nice enough to use watercolors on the back porch

a mustache!

Everybody gets a little snack!


a little nest for "quiet time"

it’s very clear…

I met my husband when I was 18 years old. It took us almost 6 years to get together. Through divorce and death, through hard drinking and lots of travels we were friends, we took that friendship that could weather anything and turned it into a partnership. We got married on Valentine’s Day 2007, in a dingy courthouse office, with my big 7 month pregnant belly between us as we kissed one another.

Today we celebrated our 5th wedding anniversary by renewing our vows at our home church. In an act of incredible generosity and grace our church family came together and made it an incredible day, providing a brunch reception, a wedding cake and even photography. It was the wedding we never had. My breath was taken away by how we are loved there and by how much my Luke loves me…

Here are the vows I read to him:

There is a poem by Auden, it is a sad poem, generally read at funerals (so fair warning if you go looking for it) but anyway, this poem by Auden has 2 lines in it that have always, will always make me think of you. “He is my North, my South, my East and West, My working week and my Sunday rest” for me, that is you. The still point in my turning world.

Every day you are patiently helping me make not a tavern, but a temple of our life. And some days I bring broken stones and sometimes flimsy sticks, some times I create incredible stained glass windows and some days I build walls where there should be none, and so often I overlook little details, and sometimes I forget about the big picture.

But despite all that every day you see within me all the goodness that Christ put there, you show me, with every slow smile, that you see what God sees and it is an incredible blessing in my life to be building this life with a man who was created to love me.

My love, I am forever grateful that you indulge me when you can, that you encourage me when I fall, that every day you build this messy beautiful crazy life beside me and you do it joyfully.

For that, and for everything else you are to me, I promise to never stop being amazed by your patience, I promise to keep taking such pride in the marvelous man I married and I promise to love you fiercely, with all of my heart, for all of my days.”

and I meant every word.

...our love is here to stay.


My smallest little turned one on the 7th.

He is to be my last baby…as far as we know. It took us almost 4 years to get him and he is just perfect. We celebrated his first trip around the sun with a small party, he devoured his cupcake as readily as he devours any and all food we put in front of him.

He has been taking steps, 2 here, 4 there. The first in thousands of steps that will take him out into the world. His eyes remain a lovely greeny blue shade, they change with his moods, with the weather. He is even tempered and smiley. He has a dimple in his left cheek.

He is my wee buggy. And I am so lucky I am his Mama.

Before We Turn to Stone

my feet

I turn 30 in a little over a month.

In the greater scheme of things, this is not a particularly dramatic occurrence. 30 is, to be sure, a milestone birthday of sorts. It is to be celebrated, like all birthdays. But it’s not a fireworks and foie gras event here.

And yet…

I am so different from who I was a mere 9 or 10 years ago. Astronomically, earth shatteringly, mind bendingly different. And that was the plan! I looked at 30 from 21 and thought I had it all figured out. A plan, a certainty of fate. I was going to be a whole new person! An adult. Have it together.

And here I am, a whole new person! An adult! But it is nothing like I imagined it. And many times I still feel like that wisp of a an alcoholic 21 year old girl.

And that’s fucking with my head.


I have been planning a road trip. To the ocean. All by myself.

I have no idea when it will happen. but it will happen in my 30th year.

And i will use the time to screw my head on. And become who I am supposed to be.

And celebrate.