The Sum of Her Years

36 years.

432 months.

1872 weeks.

13,104 days.

314,496 hours.

For the record, I hate math. But our lives are defined by numbers. Our age. The number of years we've been married. How old our children are. How long we've worked or lived somewhere. How long it's been since we graduated from high school. How many friends we have on Facebook. Numbers, always numbers.

But the numbers represent so much more than a finite unit of measurement. The numbers represent people and places who shape us. They form our life's equation

I have lived in 3 states, in 8 houses I called home.

I have spent 18 months pregnant and 15 months nursing.

I have spent countless hours driving north and south on Hwy. 55 between St. Louis and Cape Girardeau.

I spent at least 22 4th of July's watching fireworks on the beach in front of the Blarney Stone (and once, I made love to my husband in the same spot.)

In my mind, I can still count the number of stop lights between the house on Carew Street that we lived in and Lang Street where E-A lived (5, but it's been a long time since I've been there.)

Every Christmas, for at least 30 years, I have watched the Rankin/Bass "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer".

I have met one sitting President (and when I say met, I mean in a small room with about 20 people and Secret Service and he asked my name and had I been thinking clearly I could have said something profound and I have the picture to prove it - signed in gold ink!).

I have two beautiful little boys who drive me insane and then make my heart burst with joy within the span of 30 seconds at least 50 times a day.

I have one handsome husband who drives me insane and then makes my heart burst with joy within the span of 30 seconds at least 50 times a day.

I have a family tree with many, many branches that continues to grow every year.

So what does all of this add up to? Me - Cara Lucia Winslow Mayberry, born September 30, 1974 in New Hartford, NY.

Some days, I wish it added up to someone else. But every once in while, I think I rock. And as I get older, I have more of those days. So bring it on - I'm ready to do some more addition.

Dear Finn...

While I don't want to write something that someday, you might look back at and be completely mortified by, I do want you to know how you were meant to be to complete our family.

Daddy and I had just decided that we were going to try for another child. We weren't sure if we were ready, but we knew that if we were going to, we needed to start trying. About a week later you were conceived. On the first try. Thanks to good timing and Elwood sleeping late, you were conceived on December 15, 2006.

My pregnancy was wonderful. None of the issues that I had when I was pregnant with your brother arose, so not only did I love being pregnant, I felt pretty good this time around. I would talk to you while I was at work and make you move if I felt you had been too quiet. And everyone enjoyed Mommy's cravings - especially all the late night s'mores that Daddy and Elwood and I had many, many times.

You were born without complications. Just a beautiful, perfect little boy. You nursed like a champ from the very beginning. I loved holding you, cuddled against my chest, and watch your big, questioning eyes take in the world around you.

I know that things haven't been as smooth since then. But you amaze me every day with your progress. I know you get frustrated that Mommy and Daddy don't always understand you, but know this. We love you so very, very much. The moment you came into our lives, our family was complete. We had no idea how much we could love both you and Elwood, but you made our hearts grow and continue to every day.

Happy Birthday baby. You are my sunshine.

Dancing In The Dark

I had forgotten what it felt like. I had forgotten how free I felt. I had forgotten how the sounds filled my body with joy and the only thing I could do was dance.

I had forgotten how much I loved going to concerts and sitting on the lawn and being washed over by the guitar and the bass and the drums until there was nothing but me and the music.

I went to a lot of concerts in my teens and early twenties. It was probably my favorite part of the freedom I began to gain in high school. I would go with my friends, I would go with my Mom, heck, I even went once or twice with my Dad. Some were amazing (like Meat Loaf at the Fox Theater), some are now embarrassing to admit to (*cough* Nelson at the American Theater*cough*), some were historic (the 2nd to last Grateful Dead show EVER at Riverport), and some were downright bizarre (Spinal Tap, also at Riverport.) But at each one, I had the same feeling - I was free and it didn't matter who I was or wasn't with, what I was wearing or if my make up and hair were in place. The music would start and that was all I cared about.

Riverport, now known as Verizon Wireless Amphitheater, was always my favorite. The lawn tickets were usually affordable and it was a great way to spend a summer night. I spent my 21st birthday there at a Jimmy Buffet concert with my Mom, my Auntie DiDi and some very good friend who provided margaritas in the limo on the way there. I remember looking up at the stars during a REO Speedwagon concert during "Can't Fight This Feeling" and wishing on a star for the boy I was pining for. I still laugh about the date that bought me a rose at the Ted Nugent concert.

Sunday night, I was again on that familiar lawn. Other than the name change, the venue hasn't changed much. I have. I'm about 6 years older than the last time I was there (Poison & Kiss). I have two toddlers at home. I'm not the same person I was when I started going there or the person I was the last time I was there.

But when the music started, I had that old familiar feeling. As Tom Petty launched into his second song, "You Don't Know How It Feels", I felt that rush of freedom and I started to dance. And I danced until my legs hurt and I sang until I was almost hoarse. At one point, I caught my husband trying to record me with his phone. When I asked what he was doing, he gave me a big smile, kissed me, and said "I love to see you dancing like that." He hadn't seen that free in a long time either.

The concert was his Anniversary/Father's Day/Birthday present, but it was a present for me too. I remembered that feeling - the one I only got when the music was so loud my body would shake with the beating of the drums. It felt good.

Nobody Told Me There'd Be Days Like These

Remember when you were a teenager and being an adult seemed to be the answer to everything. You would have control over your life and be able to make your own decisions and determine your own destiny. There would be no curfew, no age limits, no restrictions on your freedom.

That was what you were living for - that time when you would call all the shots.

Boy, were we wrong about how great being an adult would be!

I enjoy some of the aspects. I wouldn't want to live thru high school again for anything short of 10 figures (yes, the price for me to relive my high school years is $1,000,000,000 - any takers?). I like that I can vote and drink at the same time should I so choose. I can go to any movie I want and no one asks where my Mom is. Most times, I am treated with respect by sales people and wait staff who realize that yes, I will purchase something and yes, I will leave a tip.

But that whole thing about making your own decisions - I didn't know how lucky I was. I would give anything some days for someone just to take the reigns and say "This is what you need to do" or "I will fix this". Not that Todd and I don't do that for each other - that's part of the compact called marriage. But it would be nice for both of us to be able to look at someone when the questions are too hard or the choices before us seem too confusing and know that they will take care of it.

I also wouldn't be opposed to being sent to my room once in a while or grounded. The time to cool down and to think would be lovely. But now, when my patience runs thin or my emotions are out of control, I can't turn and run and cry into my pillow and lament how unfair life is. I have my children and my husband and my job and all the other responsibilities I so desperately wanted to consider now.

But, I can't control time. I was going to grow up to be an adult whether I wanted to or not. So I will try to handle it with dignity and grace and set a good example for my children.

(I will also revert to weird nail polish colors like Yoga-To-Get-This-Blue and Funky Dunkey to make me feel a little less adult!)

Was and Is

For me, Daddy was:

• The carver of pumpkins and the trimmer of Christmas trees
• My Saturday morning cooking show and the grill master extraordinaire
• The doctor and pharmacist (Portuguese moonshine made any ailment better!)
• My own personal historian
• A pyromaniac who was lucky to have friends in high places
• A balladeer (especially after a few beers)
• My champion, even when I was in the wrong
• Always there for me and he always will be

For my children, Daddy is:

• The first one to change their diapers, as I was unable to stand up
• The originator of the Baby Face Eating Machine and the Tickle Wake Up Call
• The one they don't ask to stop singing
• The DJ for our family dance parties
• The bear hug giver (and when needed, the gentle belly rubber)
• The one who keeps my tendency to try and keep them babies in check
• Always there for them and always will be

(Note: I was unable to find a decent picture of my father and I as I don't have my wedding pictures loaded on my Mac and that is last decent picture of the two of us I remember being taken. But they exist and someday I will display them!)

Love Stinks - But It's So Worth It

Love is hard. It's only easy in the movies. True love requires patience and understanding and time. It requires a sense of humor and occasionally a swift kick in the ass.

Todd and I are not the perfect couple, but I've come to discover that there is no such thing as a perfect couple. Even celebrity couples who appear perfect on the red carpet probably go home and argue over who left the cap off of the toothpaste. Your friends - the ones who you look at and think "Why can't we be like them?" - have their own issues and struggles. Perfect does not exist in a marriage.

But Todd and I have patience and understanding and a sense of humor - we also occasionally have to give each other the aforementioned swift kick. We have days were we are in perfect sync and are a great team. And other days, we are two drunk monkeys careening in opposite directions. But that's where the time part comes in. We have the gift of tomorrow to try again to make things right.

Nine years ago we promised to be with each other for better or worse, for richer or poorer, in sickness and in health. And admittedly, some days we question whether we were in our right minds to make those kind of broad, sweeping vows before our family and friends and God.

But then we look at our children. And we find ourselves holding hands on drive home from a particularly bad restaurant experience with them. And we laugh. And we know we were right.

Happy Anniversary Todd. I love you more today than the day we married. I look forward to getting to the point where we can laugh about all of this together, sitting on a front porch in rocking chairs, holding hands.

My Shrek Line

People mark their lives in different ways. For the last nine years, mine has been marked by the "Shrek" movies.

It started in June of 2001. The weekend before our wedding, Todd and I were at each other's throats. We were both stressed and we weren't handling it well. I think the point where I told Todd that he was incapable of packing his own shaving kit was the high point (or low point if you prefer).

We decided we needed a break, so we headed to the movies. As fans of animation, we were intrigued by "Shrek", plus, we needed something light and frothy. As we came back to our senses, we fell in love with that big green guy and his cast of merry men and women. Two hours later, we left the theater sane and smiling. I give Shrek part of the credit for the fact that we are about to celebrate our ninth anniversary

Fast forward three years to 2004 - the make or break year of my career and our marriage. The second Shrek came out and I listened to "Accidentally In Love" over and over and over again, missing home and Todd. We went to see that movie under stress too, but this time the movie alone couldn't fix it. My career broke that year, but our marriage made it. I don't know if it's connected, but this is my favorite of the films thus far.

In 2007, when the third installment came out, I was pregnant with Finn and Elwood was less than two so going to see the movie in a theater was not possible. But the second that DVD came out, we had in our hot little hands. And that was when Elwood fell in love with Donkey. That Christmas, he got the talking Donkey doll and you would have though we had given him the Holy Grail. Plus, that year, "Shrek the Halls" became one of the few Christmas specials we enjoyed watching as a family (I force my Rankin/Bass addiction on Todd every year).

So, as the new and final movie opens this Friday, I look forward to bringing my two little Shrek fans to see it. Shrek is part of our family forever and I know that years from now, when we think about the princess locked in the highest room, in the tallest tower, we'll remember all of these important moments in our lives.