Posts Tagged 'dreams'

If it was anyone, it would be Tom Hanks

If there was ever an actor I would hope to bump into while we were out in LA, it would be Tom Hanks.

And I’m not wanting this for me…even though I would probably lose my chill and be all TOM HANKS!!!

It would be for Kellan.

No, really. Swear.

Kellan doesn’t even know who Tom Hanks is…except for maybe him making the connection after Tom says hello (because of course he would. It’s TOM HANKS!) and yelling, “It’s Woody! From Toy Story!”

Begin me talking ninety miles a minute to try and quickly help Kellan remember that he had a monologue from Toy Story that he was supposed to perform last summer (“Why wouldn’t Andy want you? LOOK AT YOU! You’re a Buzz Lightyear!”…) at a competition he went to in LA, but then….then…a day or so before the competition, one of the acting coaches he was working with (Lisa Ann Walter…if any of you recognize the name) literally told him eye to eye, “You are so cute you can do any monologue you want. You don’t even have to say anything. Just stand on the stage and wave.”

So after that pep talk, Kellan was like, “I’m doing my Home Alone monologue and my spongebob commercial.”

I’ll have you know that those were the “backup” pieces instead of what was supposed to be front and center. The bread and butter. The Toy Story monologue. The Lego commercial.

(Of which he has probably forgotten both)

Fast forward to Kellan rocking both his backup monologue and commercial. I guess Lisa knew what she was talking about. Kellan ended up winning Best Commercial and Actor of the Year in his age group. 

Did I mention he was four? And his age group was 4-12?

Yah. Insane.

During the awards, they would flash headshots of the four finalists for each category and the finalists would go up on stage and they would read the runners up and then finally the winner. Each person got a medal draped over their neck. The winner getting one with a yellow ribbon and heavy medal stating they had won “Best….fill in the category.”

When Kellan saw his picture he was like, “THAT’S ME!!!” And he hopped off his chair and RAN up to the stage so fast I had to stop recording the moment on my phone and go chase after him.


Then he took his moment like he had been doing this all his life (He hasn’t. This was his first rodeo) and walked up and down the catwalk, waving to the crowd, like he owned it.

All this before they even announced the winner. They had to reel him back in to do all of the official business.

Cutest. moment. of. my. life. and everyone else’s in that room. Budding actors. Agents. Talent managers. Everyone was cheering him on.

You really shoulda been there.

So, where were we? Right! 


Kellan has a goal to be an actor.

Sidebar: We did not suggest this. He did. My plan was sports. Basketball. Soccer. Saturday’s at a gym or a field. Sweaty socks and uniforms. Apparently Kellan didn’t get that memo. Once he made his dreams known, however, we have – and are – doing all we can to help him achieve his goals.

HELLO! TOM HANKS! This is the part where you come in.

The acting life and path is mired with all kinds of challenges and difficulties and disappointments (of which we have already had plenty), and countless exercises in good decision making.

Now, I don’t know Tom Hanks from a hole in the wall, but for whatever reason, I think he would be one of the best people – if not the best person – to talk to Kellan. To teach him things about the acting life.

I know zero. I know loads about basketball. I could teach him a million things about that. Plenty of anecdotes.

However, with acting, I am learning right along with him every step of the way. So, if there was a wing in this area of life that I could fly Kellan under, I feel like it should be his. If there was ever a mentor I could choose…it would be him.

I have no idea why. 

It just seems right.

I have no rational really.

It sounds like a crazy person talking, I know. I’m not crazy. Or maybe I am. I mean really, who’s to judge here? 

(But Tom, if you’re reading this, I promise I’m not crazy)

I just want Kellan to hear it from someone who knows. Who has been there. I know he’s not perfect. 

Nobody is perfect.

But he seems perfect for Kellan.

I feel like they’d really get along. Maybe some things would sink in. Maybe some life lessons would be learned. Maybe some wisdom shared about this business Kellan has asked to be part of – on his own volition – since he was three.

Maybe… day.

Kellan keeps auditioning. We continue going to LA. He keeps trying. He keeps impressing the decision makers.

He just hasn’t been the right fit, yet.

He will be, one day. I know he will.

Maybe it’ll be alongside Tom and then all of these things will become a reality. 

You never know.

And then? 

I’d just casually run into him on set and be all TOM HANKS!!!!

my mom purpose

Ok so, I AM 34. And when I turned 34, Tim was all, “You’re the age I was when we met!”

Man. I never even thought of that.

But still. 34. 


Thirty. Four.

Can you tell I’m shocked?

I am not at all where I thought I’d be…but honestly I don’t even know where that was supposed to be, anyway. Partly because since having Kellan, I kind of stopped thinking about long term goals other than being the best mom I can be. Granted, that looks different for everyone, but that’s all I really thought about and strived for on a daily basis since then.

I mean, I do have things I would like to accomplish, but I haven’t put those things above being a mom.

Maybe that’s good. Maybe it’s not. But it is what it is. And I’m totally okay with that. I am 100% all in when it comes to helping Kellan achieve his goals and dreams…and man does he have big dreams. How an almost five year old can be so sure of what he wants to do is beyond me. I don’t remember having that much drive and determination at that age…but he has it and we are all doing what we can to help him get there. Make it. BE who he dreams to be.

That’s my purpose. And I love it.

Maybe that’s it for me, I don’t know. My whole purpose revolves around helping someone else succeed. It seems ridiculous but it’s honestly such a fulfilling and absolutely heart exploding feeling when something happens that shows the fruits of everyone’s labor.

But really the look on his face…how proud he is…that’s what I live for. It’s worth every hard day, every struggle, every tear. Every encouraging word and every hug when things don’t go exactly the way he hopes they will. None of those are easy …it may even be harder for me than it is for him…but it’s what makes success so much sweeter…those moments where tears are welling in my eyes when I get to watch him reap the reward that is finally earned…that took a lot of hard work and time and patience and everything in between.

I live for those moments. Past, present, future. Every single one of those moments. I will forever be his biggest fan, his loudest, most annoying cheerleader, his confidant any time he needs one. I’m always in his corner, ready to give a pep talk or a listening ear or a hug – whatever is needed at that particular time.

This part of mom-ing is fun. 

It’s amazing.

I love it.

dream interpretations

So, last night I had two of my least favorite, though recurring, dreams.

The first was me hearing a tornado while I was in the kitchen and trying to get Kellan put of his high chair as fast as possible to get into the basement. Of course, undoing the buckles on the straps took forever and I was panicking because I couldn’t seem to undo them fast enough. Somehow, though, we made it safely downstairs, though I don’t exactly remember the end of that dream.

The second one? My mom was driving me somewhere that I needed to be at a certain time, in a city we were not familiar with. We kept going down the wrong streets. Then? She started going up an on-ramp and then kept going and I was like, “What are you doing??” And then she drove right off the road, which happened to be a bridge, I guess, because down we went. The weird part is that she and the car went faster than me? I was above them, though still falling, and trying desperately to undo my seatbelt, which looked a lot like Kellan’s high chair straps. That dream woke me up like a shot and my legs were tingling and everything. Legitimate physical response to that dream.

Oh. That reminds me. I had a third dream. Crazy night for dreams I guess. The third dream was actually the first one I had. I was at a house with both my mom and Tim’s dad and Kellan. Tim was at work or somewhere, I guess. Anyway, I was trying to get ready to go out with someone, who was a dude and I’m pretty sure it was like a prom? I don’t even know why I would be going to prom….anyway, I had not even started getting ready AT the time I was supposed to leave and all of a sudden I asked my mom/Tim’s dad if either would watch Kellan. They both basically said no after hemming and hawing. I stood there like, “How am I supposed to enjoy my outing if I also have to take care of Kellan at the same time??”

Finally, they decided they could watch him for a few hours and I got ready as fast as I could, throwing on a random dress that was lying around and then apologizing profusely to whoever the person was I was going to dinner/prom ???) with because I was so late.

Once we got to dinner, I remember looking across the table at him and thinking he didn’t look anything like I thought he did initially. And he ordered some kind of appetizer that he had had before to try and hurry things along, since I had limited time. And then he starts telling me how he met his wife? girlfriend? at this place. They met because they caught each other’s eyes in these large wine bottles on a shelf that lined the ceiling. They were both looking at one at the same time or something? It was odd. That’s pretty much where that dream ended.

I know that both tornadoes and falling off things can mean a loss of control in your life. And in a sense, I’ve totally lost being able to control much of my day, being at the whim of a toddler. I also read that the driving off a bridge or whatever can mean that you’re not on the path you want to be in life or that you’re struggling to get onto the path you want to be on.

So, to recap:

Tornadoes = no control
Bridge = wrong path

The third dream, to me, says that I lack the resources to help me with Kellan so I have time to myself/time to work on and do the things I want to do that will put me on the path that I already know I want to be on. That’s my struggle. I know the path. I know what I want to (try) to do. I just don’t have the help to free up time for me to get there.

I know, what about Tim?

He works pretty much 12 hour days and the weekends are full of all the things he didn’t have time to do during the week or errands or appointments. So, no real reprieve anywhere. It is pretty much a continuous cycle of getting nothing accomplished (for me, anyway).

And what about me?

I have no idea.

Obviously, I need…well, lots of things. Time, for starters.

“stretchy to 3” and daddy dreams

I’m actually *not* going to be pregnant forever!

It’s really coming to an end!

OMG YAY!!!!!!!!!!

If you’ve never been pregnant before, you really have no idea how much of a relief this is, knowing that you’ll actually be able to deflate your basketball belly and walk around without pain again. I mean, sure, we all know that pregnancy WILL END at some point but having an actual “if he doesn’t come by X date” eviction date instead of “whenever it happens………….”


The sprout’s final, absolute deadline to get the hell out?

February 20.

Scary thought of the day: Tim and I will be parents in TEN DAYS OR LESS.

The 20th would put me a 40 weeks, 4 days and I have zero intention of making it that far. During the OB appointment yesterday, I didn’t find out much else other than I was “stretchy to three centimeters” but still effaced the same and baby sprout was still at a -1 station.

Let me tell you, “stretchy to three centimeters” is a painful experience and after going through that, I’m really not all that keen on experiencing a membrane sweep (where they manually separate your bag of water from your cervix), though I’ll get to talk all about one if I make it to our appointment next week.

*But* the rainbow shining through the vajayjay storm?

The OB said she didn’t think I’d make it that far, to 40 weeks.

Please, dear baby Jesus, let her be right.

She also got 700 million brownie points because as she was feeling my belly to feel the sprout she was all, “No fat. All baby.”

(thank God the baby isn’t in my thighs)

After the appointment, I decided to try as many “old wives tale” cervix thinning/labor starting starting ideas I could think to do, like eating pineapple and eggplant and certain “activities” involving Tim.

And I’m doing them again, today, starting with an hour long walk.

Baby sprout, it’s time.


There are a few dates we don’t want the sprout to come, one being Valentine’s Day (this date is more Tim than me) and also this Sunday, the 12th. I know it’s harsh but I really, really don’t want this baby sharing a birthday with my dad. I don’t want to give him (my dad) anything “extra” or “special” to talk about when it comes to the sprout. I feel like he doesn’t deserve it. He shouldn’t get to share a birthday with MY child.

(If you don’t already know, the relationship between my dad and I…isn’t. There is no relationship at all. Some background as to why is here, here and here)

(and God or karma will probably have the sprout born on the 12th just so I have no choice but to get over it)

Anyhow, with this date looming, the idea of sprout being born on the 12th is really starting to get to me.

Last night I had the weirdest dream about my dad.

So, my dream: I was going over to his house to get our dogs, Maddie and Lexi. Why they were even over there in the first place…no idea. So, I get there and Maddie has already thrown up and has diarrhea because he let her eat something she shouldn’t (something about a football….that’s all I remember).

I went on a tirade about them not eating any “people food” EVER and decided I was taking them home.

He got all irritated like I wasn’t allowed to take them and I was saying I didn’t care and there was this woman there and he turned to her and asked if she was also a lawyer (no idea what “else” she was…).

I guess he was going to try and scare me into being….what? Sued? I have no idea. They’re my dogs?….

So I kept going off about how he had no clue how to care for them and they hadn’t had any exercise, yada yada yada.

I stormed out, started getting the car ready and then he comes out with the dogs, my two youngest brothers and the woman to walk them (the dogs).

I stood there, outraged he’d even attempt this and was screaming how he didn’t even know how far they actually needed to walk while he just went down the street, grinning the whole time like, “I’ll show YOU.”

I turned to the woman all, “Seriously, they need to be walked AT LEAST three to five miles”

Then I woke up.

Go ahead, dream interpreters.


(and to everyone else: SEND BABY/GO INTO LABOR JUJU!)

all because of tim

I get to follow my dreams.

Because of my incredible husband, Tim…who puts up with me…this blog…and my crazy antics…

And manages to find a way to make me smile…every single day.

His unconditional love, support, and faith in me…

Has never waivered.

This video is from our Paris trip last Thanksgiving – the most romantic, beautiful city I have ever seen.

Moments from this trip only seem fitting to show him…

to tell him…

Thank you.

You have given me the happiest life I will ever know.

I love you.

dear me: suck it up. persevere.

I see why so many blogs end up in the “that was fun…now I’m bored” pile…along with once used sports equipment, art supplies…whatever hobby came along and left.  A flash in the pan kind of thing.  In the grand scheme of things…most people DON’T stick with anything long enough to become *really* good.  Great, even.

And blogging… I understand why.  It is a thankless task.  A few really nice comments saying you’re doing a good job here and there…a spike in views with a fluke post…and that is it.  Then the fun goes away and so does the blog.  A few months go by and you can’t even remember the name of your once sounding board.

But if you stuck with it…like the pledge to not eat chocolate or the promise to go to the gym at least three times a week.  Where would you be a year later?  Five years later?  We see people in magazines or on TV where it seems like they came out of nowhere.  One day a desk job and the next a superstar.  We don’t see the hours and days and years they worked to get there.  We don’t see what they sacrificed or how they toughed it out.  Those few didn’t give up their hobby or dream and let other people tell them they have a one in a million shot – why try?  We see the final product and that is what we want.  The end before the beginning.  As much as I even hate to admit it sometimes…as much as I want the end…the journey is what gets you there.  That’s what makes you.

As for one in a million – anyone can be that one

Just be the one that didn’t quit.

Remember that.

this is where you ask those burning questions

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