Photo courtesy of Sandi Henderson of Portabellopixie

When I first stumbled across designer Sandi Henderson’s site, Portabellopixie, I instantly fell in love with the vibrant colors of her fabric collection and the fabulous music that played during my visit. Over time, I discovered that Sandi is not only a talented designer but she is also a friendly, down-to-Earth woman with a great sense of humor. When I recently caught up with Sandi, who had just unveiled Farmer’s Market, a striking, new fabric line, she shared her thoughts about music, starting a business and balancing work and family.

CN: You are the creative mastermind behind, Portabellopixie, a fun, colorful site that’s always filled with music. It’s clear you love music, if you had a theme song for your life what would it be?

Sandi: Oh, can we just do an entire post on this one topic?!  Yes I love music-it was my first creative endeavor.  I have played the piano for pretty much as long as I can remember.  Learning how to read music through playing the piano made it simple to learn other instruments in a day.  Once you have the fingering down-you already know everything else!  I can play 6 different instruments even though I have only studied one extensively.  Music is a huge part of our household and we play/listen to everything (which is probably evident by the broad spectrum of music I play on my blog.)  Except for the angry stuff-that doesn’t make the cut.    I find it incredibly hard to design or work without music playing.  I pretty much always have a song that is my favorite at the moment, right now (don’t laugh!) it’s “Lost Highway” by Bon Jovi.  It gets me up and moving.  Another thing I love, books on tape.  Listening to Harry Potter at the moment-I love them because they are so long that it’s hard to feel like you’re ever listening to the same thing over and over.

CN: What is your first memory of creating a piece of artwork you love?

Sandi: The first craft that I became addicted to was scrapbooking.  I remember how incredibly excited I was when I discovered it!  I scrapped one 12 by 12 page with about 20 pictures on it (trying to get the most bang for my buck-I was a sophomore in high school).  I was in love with paper crafting!  Now when I look at that page, I realize how rather pitiful it is, but I still love it.
 

CN: Tell us a little about your children. Do you involve them in your creative process? Do you try to foster creativity in your children’s lives? If so, how?

Sandi: My kids are amazing.  Hands down the funniest kids I’ve ever known.    My daughter is truly the reason I am where I am.  Before she was born, I was a phlebotomist.  I fully intended on returning to work after she was born, but the second I saw her I knew there was no chance of that happening.  I have always sewn, and when she was born I started making her little dresses and hair bows.  It is truly one of the happiest times that I can remember-having nothing else to do but hang with my kid all day and craft for her.  The first few months of her life during all the crafting heaven, I kept researching ways to add to our income from home.  My husband was in school, not bringing in money wasn’t an option.  I stumbled upon eBay and found that mothers like myself were selling their children’s clothing for big bucks (in my eyes at the time, now I truly see how underpaid these wonder women are!). The search for a brand name started. I wanted something that was a completely new word to avoid copycats.  I have always had a soft spot for Portobello Road which is where the root of my name came from.  I changed the spelling to make it my own and added “pixie” to add a fun element to it.  Portabellopixie was born.  That venture introduced me to designer fabrics and the rest, as they say, is history.  If I had a boy first, I am 100% positive that I wouldn’t be here now.
 
My son is every bit as inspiring as my daughter.  When I designed Ginger Blossom, I thought I had finished and realized that there was nothing that I could use for my son!  Tortoise Plaid was born.  He is also the inspiration for a collection of boy projects and patterns I am working on.  It has been a fun to switch gears and design for boys!  Stay tuned…

CN: Do you ever have those days where you just want to stay in bed with a good book or a pint of ice cream and a good movie? What motivates you to get up each day and get back to work?

Sandi: Yes.  And I take them!  A lot of people have the view that I must be going on 3 hours of sleep each night but I can assure you that is not the case.  I am not the kind of person that can do that-occasionally the late nighter will occur but generally I am a bear if I don’t get 8 hours of sleep each night.  So that’s pretty much the key to my getting up and keeping going-decent amounts of sleep.  But even still, those lay around days still happen and I relish in them and never feel guilty.

 Featured in this photo is the new line, Farmer’s Market. 

Photo courtesy of Sandi Henderson of Portabellopixie

CN: How do you know when you are finished with a design and it’s time to let it go?

Sandi: I just “know.”  I usually try arranging art for one print in dozens of different ways and when it finally works, I have an “ah ha!” moment and smile, save it and move on.  I am usually going on a “feeling” I am working for and tinker my art until I find I have found that “feeling.”
 

CN: When you need to recharge your creative batteries, what do you do?

Sandi: Luckily I haven’t really experienced a creative block yet.  There is so much more to an art based business than just designing.  After I turn in the artwork, there is months of business work to do to promote the fabric so by the time I am ready to get started on a new collection, enough time has passed and my fingers are literally itching to get going again!  That’s where I am right now and my head is overflowing with ideas for the next line.  This probably seems funny because Farmer’s Market has just debuted, but I turned in the work on it about 7 months ago.
 

CN: When you get to the end of your life, what are the three creative goals you hope to have accomplished?

Sandi: Oh I’m pretty lucky.  I’d say I’ve accomplished 2 of them already.  Signing on with a fabric manufacturer, debuting a line of sewing patterns-both of which I have done!  The last goal would be difficult but wonderful to accomplish.  I would love to have my brand continue to benefit my family after I die.  If I were to die today, so would the business.  Look at Marimekko-when founder Armi Ratia died in 1979 the company didn’t flounder.  It is still going strong and very popular.  I’d love to see Portabellopixie or Sandi Henderson have longevity like that.
 

CN: Do you remember the moment you decided to pursue your dream to become a designer? Since that time, have you ever doubted yourself? If so, how do you fight those feelings?

Sandi: Yes, I remember.  Again it was an “ah ha!” moment.  I felt that I had found the way to turn my craft into a real source of income for my family and never looked back.  There are certainly times of doubt-starting a business is not easy and to be successful is based on much more that just your art.  Writing big checks is hard when you don’t have a lot to fall back on in the beginning.  Dustin and I have been very careful to only progress on what we could pay cash for though so if something doesn’t pan out the way we expect, we don’t have to worry about paying for a loan that we don’t have the income for.  Luckily, we’ve been very blessed so far and haven’t lost money.  I wouldn’t say that we’ve made much yet either though LOL, but that also comes with starting a business.  In a few more months, I think we’ll actually be able to keep some of the money coming in.
 
CN: Who has been the biggest creative influence in your life?

Sandi:  Oh boy…there are so many creative people that I admire.  But I would have to say that the one I am most impressed by is Amy Butler.  I read in her Midwest Modern book that her studio takes the stance that every person is worth the time to answer a question, email or call.  I know this to be true and not just words for a book.  When I was selling on eBay, I emailed with questions for her and always, always had a return answer.  I was a teeny person in regards to her, my fabric purchases made her personally about 50 cents, but they always saw that my questions were answered.  It is something that I have tried to apply to my business.  I always try to answer all questions that come my way.  Moreover on Amy, when I finally met her and her husband David in person, they remembered who I was which was huge to me.  So while I think my style is much different from hers, I have watched her trail with much admiration.  I hope that in 5 years people will look at me with a fraction of the respect I have earned for her, which is based absolutely not at all on her success but how she treats the people around her. 

CN: As a kid, I would draw on the walls; sometimes I still do, don’t tell anyone. Where is the craziest place you have ever sketched a design?

Sandi: Fun!  I draw on the walls too.    My bedroom has a big mural type thing that I started when we moved into this house and still haven’t finished.  The weirdest place is probably on myself.  When inspiration hits, I’ve got to get the idea down before it flees my short lived memory!  I’ve been known to have flowers or shapes sketched on my skin.
 

CN: If you were asked to create an original, specialty dish at your favorite restaurant, what would you create and what would you name it?

Sandi: Hmmm…I would probably do a sampler plate of my favorite foods.  If would definitely have Fresh Mozzarella, Fresh Basil and Fresh Tomatoes, Carmelized onions, Spicy Tuna Sushi, really good Chocolate, mango and really good bread.  Dried Apricots with a little sea salt on it (sounds very strange, but it’s so good!)  That’s my favorite kind of food!  Yum.  

CN: Nacho readers are a diverse, creative and inspiring group. Many are balancing full-time jobs, creative projects and/or families. For all those who are reading who may want to create their own fabric line, what advice would you give on how to balance running a business with raising a family?

Sandi: To make sure that your family is really on board.  It takes support from your loved ones to make it work!  Set priorities, realize you can’t do everything.  When you can afford it, hire help!  Don’t go into debt; only take on what you can realistically accomplish.  Over deliver when you can.  Find a niche that isn’t already being filled.  If it’s what you are truly passionate about, don’t ever give up!

Thanks for spending time with the Nachos, Sandi!

For information on how Sandi designs fabric or to view more of her work, visit http://portabellopixie.typepad.com/portabellopixie/.

 You did it!!!

Our experiment was a success! You have won my heart. Today, Friday, June 6th, 2008, CreativeNachos has its first short story written in cyberspace by a group of people, most of whom don’t know each other. I’m so proud of you for making this a reality.

You have inspired me to create. You’ve shown me that anything we can dream, we can bring to life. Your willingness to share, to unleash your imaginations on this playground is something I treasure. The fact that you all found a way to work together to see it through to the end is amazing.

Now, CreativeNachos proudly presents, It’s All Invented, a tale written by Bridget, Scott, Judy, Danielle, Rowena, Chris, Nicole, Claire and Lorrie.

Please feel free to share your reactions, thoughts, observations, and celebratory remarks in the comments section at the end of the story. Let us know how you liked the ending. Enjoy!

It’s All Invented

A Short Story written by Bridget, Scott, Judy, Danielle, Rowena, Chris, Nicole, Claire and Lorrie

   Lisa’s life was unraveling. On the one day that every single minute counted, Steve was already a half hour late. As she strode back and forth across the office floor, panic settled upon her. For a split second she thought of jumping out the window, hoping in her car and driving away. The thought held such appeal that she raced to window; that’s when she saw him.  Two stories below, Steve paced back and forth on a small patch of grass that separated parking spots, like a tiger trapped by water. Dressed only in boxers and a pair of black socks, he waved his hands in the air and muttered to himself like a mad man.

   In that moment, Lisa almost felt sad for Steve.  Of course, she was furious with him but he was a decent guy and knowing his history, the two years spent in the nudist colony after college, and recent loneliness, there was a part of her that couldn’t help but feel sad.  It had only been six months since leaving the colony and he was still adjusting to “life on the outside.” The fact was she couldn’t really understand why the basic concept of putting some clothes on before going out in public continued to escape his mind. More importantly she couldn’t understand how this man had become such an important part of her daily thoughts, of her life.

   Actually, it was her brother’s fault. When she admitted to him that she’d been working on an invention, she’d expected that others in the world might be thinking about the same thing but she never imagined he’d know someone who was building the exact same thing. His suggestion that she and Steve meet to discuss it had initially enraged her. For once in her life, she’d wanted something she could lay claim to, something she could call her own. She was willing to offer him money to stop building it when she met him. Granted it was money she did not yet have as she had sunk everything into this idea but she was desperate. However as they talked, she realized that he had answers to her obstacles and she had thought of things he hadn’t yet. It occurred to her then that they might be more effective together than separate.

   That night brought tears to her eyes. She’d been intoxicated by their ideas, by him, and by the endless drinks she consumed. It was as though they were celebrating a victory they had yet to attain. It continued at her house where their clothes evaporated as they walked through the door. As she watched him, she cursed that night.

   Now, weeks later, she knew that the pregnancy test she’d been carrying around for days would be positive; Steve was the father.  She feared that her unborn baby would suffer the same illness as Steve; a disease that caused one to crave nudist colonies and sleep with married men or women depending upon the baby’s sex.  There would be no way to hide this from her husband who was due back in a week.

  As she watched him, a funny thought occurred to her. Too often she’d wish she had become a school teacher like her mom but in this moment, she wished she’d been a therapist. She pictured Steve, a client, coming to her for years with the same problems. She’d try to help him but she imagined him making little progress, showing up late and half naked time and again.  Colleagues would take bets on when he would forget the boxers.  Steve’s never-ending case combined with the mundane normalcy of her life helping her kids with their homework, cooking dinner for her often absent husband and writing her seemingly endless case notes would cause her to lose it one day as Steve entered her office. “You really AREN’T too sexy for your shirt, Steve!” she shouted out loud. A moment later, she heard someone behind her clear their throat. Mortified that she’d screamed out loud while alone in her office, she slowly turned.

   Caroline walked in the door. 

   “Hey, Lisa,” she said, pointing back over her shoulder.  “Did you know that guy who’s always panting around you is out in the parking lot waiting for the men in the white suits?”

   Lisa thought about explaining that he was really her brother’s friend who was crashing on her couch. She wanted to tell Caroline that she just remembered how she’d forgotten to flip the laundry in her haste this morning. All of Steve’ clothes remained in the washer as she rushed out the door leaving him asleep on the couch. She wanted to say that she hoped the power had gone out and that he had not woken wishing to start a clothing revolution. 

   Instead, all Lisa could say was, “I know.”  As she thought about the big interview, the one where they would promote their invention, she said, “I think I’ve made a big mistake.”

***

   As Steve paced back and forth uttering words of gibberish, the thoughts of having sex with Lisa wouldn’t leave his head. Yesterday, Steve would have said it was the best sex he’d ever had but now, the thought was horrifying. Early this morning, Steve received a phone call from his father telling him that he had wonderful news. As his father babbled on about some woman he met at an office retreat 27 years ago, Steve was trying to get dressed so he can go and meet the woman of his dreams. Then his father dropped the bomb. He said “Steve, you have a sister”.

   As the worst words Steve had ever heard replayed in his mind he couldn’t help but feel nauseous. He continued muttering to himself.

   “I mean ARE YOU KIDDING ME?? I spend all of these years in a nudist colony having random sex with hundreds of women and even some men without repercussion or even incident and its when I re-join the real world, start working towards a capitalist goal and find a woman who makes it all worth it that I become the star of the world’s worst Jerry Springer show?? How could this happen? What will I tell Lisa?”

   Lisa…saying her name out loud now brought Steve back to that night. To the many times he proclaimed her name in ecstasy.

   “Stop!” “Are you crazy? She is your SISTER! You will NEVER say her name out loud again!”

   The office parking lot was beginning to fill and as Steve’s voice started getting louder, he drew more and more attention.

   “Ohhhh, if you only knew, you smug drones! You have no idea!”

   For the first time, Steve felt jealous of the boring lives of these drones. They wake up, take out their business uniforms, stop by Starbucks for overpriced coffee and have a day just like the day before. What Steve would give for such monotony today. Who needs this type of excitement? Just as these thoughts passed through his head, he saw Lisa’s blonde hair shining through the front door of the building.

   “Oh GOD, she’s coming!” Steve was shaking.

    He wanted to run. Instead, he leaned over to straighten his left sock. Then he slowly stood, and met her eyes. Her glance flickered for an instant as she noticed the remote control in his hand.

   “We Must Begin Again,” he said, as his finger depressed the button and everything went white.

Lisa’s life was unraveling. On the one day that every single minute counted, Steve was already a half hour late. As she strode back and forth across the office floor, panic settled upon her. For a split second she thought of jumping out the window, hoping in her car and driving away. The thought held such appeal that she raced to window; that’s when she saw him.  Two stories below, Steve paced back and forth on a small patch of grass that separated parking spots, like a tiger trapped by water. Dressed only in boxers and a pair of black socks, he waved his hands in the air and muttered to himself like a mad man.

In that moment, Lisa almost felt sad for Steve.  Of course, she was furious with him but he was a decent guy and knowing his history, the two years spent in the nudist colony after college, and recent loneliness, there was a part of her that couldn’t help but feel sad.  It had only been six months since leaving the colony and he was still adjusting to “life on the outside.” The fact was she couldn’t really understand why the basic concept of putting some clothes on before going out in public continued to escape his mind. More importantly she couldn’t understand how this man had become such an important part of her daily thoughts, of her life.

Actually, it was her brother’s fault. When she admitted to him that she’d been working on an invention, she’d expected that others in the world might be thinking about the same thing but she never imagined he’d know someone who was building the exact same thing. His suggestion that she and Steve meet to discuss it had initially enraged her. For once in her life, she’d wanted something she could lay claim to, something she could call her own. She was willing to offer him money to stop building it when she met him. Granted it was money she did not yet have as she had sunk everything into this idea but she was desperate. However as they talked, she realized that he had answers to her obstacles and she had thought of things he hadn’t yet. It occurred to her then that they might be more effective together than separate.

That night brought tears to her eyes. She’d been intoxicated by their ideas, by him, and by the endless drinks she consumed. It was as though they were celebrating a victory they had yet to attain. It continued at her house where their clothes evaporated as they walked through the door. As she watched him, she cursed that night.

Now, weeks later, she knew that the pregnancy test she’d been carrying around for days would be positive; Steve was the father.  She feared that her unborn baby would suffer the same illness as Steve; a disease that caused one to crave nudist colonies and sleep with married men or women depending upon the baby’s sex.  There would be no way to hide this from her husband who was due back in a week.

As she watched him, a funny thought occurred to her. Too often she’d wish she had become a school teacher like her mom but in this moment, she wished she’d been a therapist. She pictured Steve, a client, coming to her for years with the same problems. She’d try to help him but she imagined him making little progress, showing up late and half naked time and again.  Colleagues would take bets on when he would forget the boxers.  Steve’s never-ending case combined with the mundane normalcy of her life helping her kids with their homework, cooking dinner for her often absent husband and writing her seemingly endless case notes would cause her to lose it one day as Steve entered her office. “You really AREN’T too sexy for your shirt, Steve!” she shouted out loud. A moment later, she heard someone behind her clear their throat. Mortified that she’d screamed out loud while alone in her office, she slowly turned.

Caroline walked in the door. 

“Hey, Lisa,” she said, pointing back over her shoulder.  “Did you know that guy who’s always panting around you is out in the parking lot waiting for the men in the white suits?”

Lisa thought about explaining that he was really her brother’s friend who was crashing on her couch. She wanted to tell Caroline that she just remembered how she’d forgotten to flip the laundry in her haste this morning. All of Steve’ clothes remained in the washer as she rushed out the door leaving him asleep on the couch. She wanted to say that she hoped the power had gone out and that he had not woken wishing to start a clothing revolution. 

Instead, all Lisa could say was, “I know.”  As she thought about the big interview, the one where they would promote their invention, she said, “I think I’ve made a big mistake.”

***

As Steve paced back and forth uttering words of gibberish, the thoughts of having sex with Lisa wouldn’t leave his head. Yesterday, Steve would have said it was the best sex he’d ever had but now, the thought was horrifying. Early this morning, Steve received a phone call from his father telling him that he had wonderful news. As his father babbled on about some woman he met at an office retreat 27 years ago, Steve was trying to get dressed so he can go and meet the woman of his dreams. Then his father dropped the bomb. He said “Steve, you have a sister”.

To be continued…

My daughter makes this noise, a primal hum, when she is in that space between waking and sleeping. The sound soothes her and allows her to return to the peace of sleep. It reminds me of the moan Harry (Billy Crystal) made in When Harry Met Sally only more drawn-out and infinitely more hilarious.

Recently, I was feeling jammed up. My head was flooded with thoughts about work, creative projects, taking care of my daughter, familial issues, financial concerns, the need for a vacation, etc. I needed to quiet my mind but found that screaming, “Stop Thinking” in my head over and over was not the solution. Just then, I heard her on the baby monitor. She was curled up, eyes closed, humming herself back into a dream.

That moment was just the inspiration I was seeking; I just hadn’t realized it. I decided to lie upside down on my couch allowing my head to hang off the edge. With closed eyes, I exhaled letting a small sound slip from my lips. It was like a teeny, tiny growl. Gradually it built to a nice, respectable level which was just shy of being loud enough to wake her. My focus began to shift away from my hodgepodge of thoughts to my breath mixed with this growl. As the last bits of sound escaped, I felt an urge to laugh. I’m not even sure what struck me as funny. I felt light, free and utterly relaxed. Every part of me was filled with urges to color, write on the walls and dance around the room. Somehow this little, inner rumble brought me back to my playful self.

In college, I took part in a primal scream during exams but it didn’t make me feel half as good as my ridiculous growl.

What would you prefer a primal scream, growl, hum or something else? What’s one silly way you love to clear out tension and uncover creative fun?
 

One Film Gets My Daughter’s Toes’ Wiggling

If the movie, Music and Lyrics, had not been made I fear my daughter may never have eaten. The moment the film begins, the world is filled with sunshine, the smell of roses permeates the air and she happily eats her food. When finished, my daughter gets down from her high chair and dances around. I need to send Hugh Grant, Drew Barrymore and Marc Lawrence, the writer and director, a thank you note.

Her obsession with the film got me to thinking about movies that I love, movies I can watch again and again without getting sick of them. There are films I watch to simply relax and others to re-ignite the fires of my imagination when I’m devoid of creativity. Here are some that make me laugh, others that make me want to move my feet, some that make me cry and finally, those that inspire me.

The Breakfast Club – but truthfully have you ever heard of the term “neo-maxi-zoomed-dweebie” used in any other film?

Sixteen Candles – the interaction between Long Duk Dong (Gedde Watanabe) and Jake (Michael Schoeffling) when Jake is looking for Samantha (Molly Ringwald) STILL makes me laugh when I watch it. And honestly, is there anything better than Jake suddenly appearing at the church and waving to Samantha?

50 First Dates – Hawaii, a penguin in a Hawaiian shirt, an adorable concept – making someone fall in love with you everyday – and 311’s song, Amber, make for a fun viewing experience.

Lock, Stock and Two Smoking Barrels – there are at least three different storylines going on at the same time and when they all collide it’s fantastic.

The Usual Suspects – he got me. Writer Christopher McQuarrie (he apparently wrote this at his parent’s kitchen table) completely got me with the ending. I still wonder about the difference between truth and fiction when I watch it. And Keyser Soze – what a name!

Jaws – I have some sort of serious obsession with this film. Oddly, I love everything about it, especially when Police Chief Brody (Roy Scheider), Quint (Robert Shaw) and Matt Hooper (Richard Dreyfuss) are sitting on the boat singing.

The Lost Boys – the music and the boys – Jason Patrick and Keifer Sutherland – they made this movie for me.

Before Sunrise & Before Sunset – the conversations between Ethan Hawke and Julie Delpy are thought-provoking.

Four Weddings and a Funeral – the characters in this film were a riot. Although I hate Andie McDowell’s line, “Is it raining? I hadn’t noticed” at the end of the film, I like the idea of focusing the film around life’s big moments.

About a Boy – There is a warmth about this film. I like the idea of lonely folks – some who know and acknowledge that their lonely and some who deny it – finding one another and creating a makeshift family.

The Goonies – They’re the Goonies, they’re hilarious. I SO wish I had a friend with tons of gadgets. I would have enjoyed their adventure.

Say Anything – I wanted to date Lloyd (John Cusack)…period, end of story. If he’d held up a radio and played a song outside of my window there is no way I would have turned my back and gone to sleep.

Some Kind of Wonderful – Watts (Mary Stuart Masterson) was amazing…she was just well, kinda wonderful. And I adored the bald-headed guy that Keith (Eric Stoltz) met in detention.

Gross Pointe Blank – the idea of a hitman needing therapy (aside from Tony Soprano) was hilarious.

Ferris Bueller’s Day Off – I still want to sing, dance and get a crowd going on a parade float someday!

As Good As It Gets – I ended up wanting that weird looking dog!

What are some of yours?

I’m not a morning person. I’ve never been one of those folks who wake with the birds and sing while getting breakfast ready. It’s always taken me longer to get my engine started.
 
One night when I was about seventeen, I crashed at my friend’s house. When she woke, she was all excited because she heard me laughing. She thought, “Great, Natasha is awake AND in a good mood.” However, when she went to talk to me, she realized I was laughing in my sleep. As soon as I woke, the laughing ceased and Oscar the Grouch reared its head.

Several years ago, I was working in Cincinnati. I was staying in a furnished apartment with a bathroom mirror that had lights around it. The setup reminded of something you might find in a starlet’s dressing room. Each morning as I stood before it, I could not help but mutter the words, “Good morning little star”. I would laugh and instantly perk up.

Now, most mornings I wake and jump out of bed like I’m jumping out of frying pan. If I’m not already late for something, then my daughter is awake and illustrating how much more effective her lung power is than my alarm clock. However, on those mornings when I have a few minutes before the chaos begins, I look in the mirror and say those words.

When I do, I completely crack up. Those are the mornings I believe that no matter what happens, it will be a good day.

What do you say or do when you wake? If nothing at all, what would you like to say or do to get yourself going?

Recently, I found myself in a professional pickle with a gentleman I can only describe as “a human steamroller.” When addressing the room, he spoke as though God, herself, had sent his all-knowing butt to the world to make everything better. As he looked around the room, he made sure that his eyes only landed upon other men; women were passed over no doubt due to their small brains. Yet, even when he directed his comments to his fellow men, you got the sense that he didn’t truly care whether they agreed with him or not. In fact, it was clear that he didn’t care what anyone had to say because based on the comments he made after people responded to his questions and his affinity for talking over people who were talking, it was clear he was not even listening. I was incensed, yet I remained quiet.

I am aware that this incident taps into some of my own childhood issues. Growing up, I listened to extended family members debate everything from politics to the best way to get around the city – train or on those two blessed feet you were given. Often people spoke over other people and did not listen. I mean is it really that hard to listen? Instead I would keep silent and I have to tell you my own silence deeply annoys me.

There is a level of intimidation I feel around people like this, these bullies, these steamrollers and I want to change my response. I’m aware of the fact that these folks eat, sleep and crap just as I do. I know they put their pants on one leg at a time as I do. Perhaps it’s that I know when people like this speak they think others, like me, are stupid. Even though I know I’m not maybe I let that doubt creep in for a millisecond and wonder if they are right. I don’t know but I turn this to you and ask, how do you deal with people like this in either the personal or professional arena? Tune them out? Confront them? Speak your mind without caring for their response?

Like Frasier Crane said, “I’m listening.”

Do you have these? It doesn’t have to be in this form – the husband/kid form - but in some form? I think the people who bring sanity and insanity in equal measure to our lives are as necessary as breathing.

My husband is a nail-biting sports event, the bubbles in my champagne, laughter when I least expect it, my favorite leprechaun, a Bronx tale, the many colors of Adidas sneakers, a bowl of Reese’s Pieces, my chocolate sponsor, the duh-duh-duh, duh-duh-duh theme from SportsCenter, my umbrella in a downpour, my Christmas tree lights, my favorite conversationalist, kisses in moonlight, a heart by which I can warm my soul, the strongest support beam within my house of my heart, my confidant, my greatest rally cry to keep going and be who I am, my North Star, the banana fix for this monkey.

My daughter is the ultimate rollercoaster ride, my Christmas morning present, my reality alarm clock, aching, tear-inducing belly laughter, my heart with wings, the Boing-o (ala the Backyardigans) in my step, my greatest challenge, my greatest creation, love wrapped up in yogurt-covered fingertips and soggy Cheerio-covered hugs, the reason for my fascination with “counting piggies”, starlight on a cloudy night, the embodiment of hope, the doodle in my doodlebug.

Not so long ago, these two people reminded me of the beauty found in sharing lives. My daughter got sick with a severe head cold. Think about how you feel when you have a cold. You can’t breathe, sleep, eat, or function. That’s how she was but she had no idea what was happening. She cried and it broke my heart. I felt helpless. She slept in 20 minute intervals for a total of 36 hours which meant that Mommy did as well. Lack of sleep does nothing good for either one of us. So, somewhere around the 2am mark right in the middle of it all, the three of us found ourselves in this space having this conversation.

Husband:  “….when we have the next one.”

(Lack of sleep requires that I use as little energy as possible so I process sentences in small chunks, my mind searching the sentence for key words. This phrase attracted my attention as what my husband was referring to as he changed our crying baby’s diaper was a second child. I was cleaning the snot off my arms that had just flown out of her mouth. By the way, the snot was like that ooze that came with Ghostbusters ghost toys. I was slimed, sleep deprived and feeling like the most useless human being alive for not being able to summon my God-like powers to heal my daughter.)

Me:  “You want to do this again? Are you crazy? I mean are you completely mad.”

(Both husband and daughter stop.)

Me: “Oh hell no. She will have plenty of brothers and sisters. Let me think there’s Brother James, Brother Andrew, Brother Dominick, Brother TJ, Brother Daniel, Sister Katherine, Sister Caitlyn, and well, Claire and Theresa’s kids will be here soon.”

(I list off the names of some of our friend’s children and reference those who will be arriving.)

“Oh, she’ll be fine. For her it’ll be like when we first got married and we thought about kids so we visited others who had kids and then celebrated when we got to hand the kids back and go home to our quiet home. She’ll have lots of play time and then come home to enjoy her private time. And we’ll sleep. By God, we will sleep.”

(At this point, my husband bursts into hysterical laughter.)

Me: (Enraged. Hands on hips) “You think I’m kidding?”

(As if on cue, my daughter lifts her weary body and crawls over to me. She pulls herself up to stand and sneezes, a giant sneeze that blows ooze all over me again. And then she smiles. That smile filled with the little teeth that have just made their first appearance. One little hand clings to my side while the other reaches up. As I lift her, I still smell that new baby smell that I know will be gone soon; how I don’t want that. I look at my husband’s blood shot eyes.)

Me:  “Yeh, I don’t think we’ll sleep with the next one either. I think he or she will be a night owl, just like us.”

I dig these folks who “get me” enough to let me be me - messy, sleepy, silly, ridiculous me.

Who are yours? To whom do you bring sanity/insanity?
 

Often times I wish for Super Powers. I think the ultimate power would be teleportation; the X-Men’s Nightcrawler has that one. There are days when my butt doesn’t want to leave my couch but unfortunately, I have to travel to another destination. If I could simply teleport my arse from my couch to the destination couches I’d be one happy camper.

Just imagine it. You wouldn’t have to leave on time to catch the train, plane or taxi. Instead you could watch the end of that movie, spend more time on that creative project or sleep a little longer and then, moments before you were supposed to arrive – POOF – you’d teleport there.

If you could have any Super Power, what would it be?

Photo by Natasha Reilly

Right now, somewhere in the world:
-someone is snorkeling amid a multitude of colorful fish.
-A man, suffering from insomnia, is leaning on a window sill looking upon an empty road and contemplating the decisions he has made in life.
-A whale is teaching her baby how to save itself from beaching.
-A child is crying for a Mother who does not want it.
-Two teens are thinking about having sex.
-Someone is sitting on the floor in front of their fridge, empty bags of chocolate and plates of food surrounding them, after another late night binge that won’t be remembered because of a recently ingested sleeping pill.
-A woman has a sock down her pants hoping her impending sex change will make her feel more “normal”.
-A husband is lying next to his wife, holding her hand after giving her the pudding with the overdose of drugs she begged for, hoping she’ll suffer no more.
-A woman is rubbing her sleeping lover’s swollen belly in the dark wondering if it will be a boy or a girl.
- A couple is laughing and hugging after just having said their vows while skydiving.
-A little boy is petting a new puppy he will name, Spunky.
-A homeless man, shivering on a park bench, is pondering his dreams.
-An artist is drawing on the side of a freight train hoping his art will travel across country and make someone stop to think.
-A soldier sitting on a plane is wondering what home will be like now.
-A grandma is trying to communicate with her grandchild using finger puppets.
-A party has just ended and the guest of honor is wondering what will happen next.
-A zebra is grazing on a wide stretch of land.
-A nurse is holding the hand of a terrified patient.
-A baby elephant is coming into the world.
-The sun is setting.
-The sun is rising.
-A pianist is composing a new song.
-A writer is penning the next bestseller.
-A star is exploding.
-A photographer is putting the camera aside in order to see the world from a different perspective.
-Children are playing hide and seek by moonlight.
-A woman is taking her children and leaving her abusive husband.
-A heart patient is receiving a transplant.
-A soccer player is scoring the game winning goal. 
-A person is taking their last steps.
-A baby is taking their first steps.
-A pink balloon is floating up, up, up.
-A woman is leaving after having sex with a man whose name she will forget.
-A man is hosting a wine tasting for no one other than himself.
-Two men just moved furniture into their new home.
-A couple is making out in a movie theatre.
-A tall guy just yelled at someone for making a “weather up there” joke.
-A tugboat is heading for the horizon.
-Someone just learned how to water ski.
-An elderly woman just made her dream of starting a rock band come true.
-Someone is leaving footprints in the sand.

Sometimes, it’s easy to become so focused on our lives that our vision becomes limited and we wind up taking ourselves too seriously. When we think about other lives being lived, we can broaden our perspective, feel a sense of connection and remember there are a million possibilities. 

What do you think about when you need to gain perspective?