Look at all that beautiful, colorful, sewing goodness!

El Paso may not have fabric superstores like in LA or New York but we’ve got La Chiquita, a small fabric and notions store. The front of the store resembles your standard fabric store except for the randomness of fabric organization (bolts of tulle squeezed in between cotton, which is next to heavy duck?), everything is labeled in Spanish and is ridiculously (wonderfully) cheap.

The back of the store, however, is what would happen if Jo-Ann’s and Saver’s got together and had a love child. Bin upon bin filled with fabrics of every texture and color, some folded, some not. Most not. Back here, cost is determined by weight, not yards. Creativity is limited only by your imagination.

My absolute favorite is the trim and findings section of the store. There are dozens of small containers filled with buttons of every shape and color. Rows upon rows of lace, ric rak, colored elastic, floral trim, velvet ribbons and so much more. Most of it looks like it’s been around since a little girl who grew up to be my mother was first learning how to sew.

La Chiquita is crazy, loud, eclectic, fun…everything I love most about El Paso. You may have to dig a little deeper for the hidden treasures but it’s always well worth it in the end. In fact, as with life, the search is the best part.

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

Smile, breathe, and go slowly. ~ Thich Nhat Hanh

Something is up with me and I’m not quite sure what to think of it. I feel a restlessness within me that is growing a little louder and intense every passing day. It’s not an unhappy sort of feeling because life is pretty great right now. I am forever grateful that every day I get the opportunity to have Jackson re-introduce me to the new, old lessons of childhood. We are making so many sacrifices so that I can be home with him, I seriously love my life.

So, yeah, it’s not unhappiness. “Restless” really is the perfect word. It’s as if the Inner Vanessa is searching for something and can’t quite put her finger on it. I think it all comes back to a need for amazement. I crave to look at something in wonder, feel infinitely small and impossibly large all at the same time. I need to be reminded why we do all of “this,” why it’s all worth it in the end.

I’ve been thinking about Plato’s Cave lately, wondering what life feels like for a prisoner. What would it feel like if you suddenly suspected that the images in front of your face were just representations of the real things? Would you feel angry and cheated? Or helpless and insecure? If only Plato was still around.

It scares me a bit that I’m searching (how could life get any better?!) but there are little hints throughout the day that are leading me in the right direction. Being outside, working on the garden with Jim while Jackson digs at our feet, that helps. Taking walks down the canals, listening to the first sounds of water flowing through them, that helps too. Researching the idea of a local indie craft fair? Makes me all energized and fluttery inside. Going to festivals, laughing with friends, drawing out cute chicken coop designs, talking with the miniature donkey down the road. I walk away from all of those activities feeling alive and in those moments, I remember how beautiful life outside of the cave really is.

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

Every year, around the end of March, El Paso and the Franklin Mountains welcome the arrival of the beautiful golden poppies. Most years there are just a splattering of flowers on the fields leading up to the mountains but sometimes, when the conditions are perfect, they are so abundant that it looks like you’re swimming in a yellow sea of poppies. It’s not one of those years but they are still beautiful nonetheless. We all had a wonderful time at the festival and look forward to attending next year when we’ll be crossing our fingers for an amazing poppy bloom!

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

Look at these amazing vintage velvet buttons I found the other day! I can’t wait to use them on purses made from re-purposed fabrics. Yay for thrifty adventures!

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

My life is sort of messy right now. Haven’t been inspired to blog much because all I think about these days are infectious diseases. My face is healing, slow but sure. The swelling is down and I no longer itch so bad that I want to scratch my face off. I’m doing good and I feel good, I’m back to being the mama and wife my family knows and loves.

It seems, however, that life has a sense of humor because just when things started to get back to normal, Jackson came down with a whopper of a cold. Our pediatrician thought he had a bad case of RSV at first. Worried that he might have pneumonia, he was going to admit our little JackJack into the hospital. We didn’t have to go after all but he was borderline for a while there. Instead, we went home with an antibiotic and nebulizer treatments. Poor Jackson hates the nebulizer. Seriously hates it. With a passion. We don’t let Jackson watch any television usually but 15 minutes of Sesame Street while getting his treatment has saved all of us.

Behavior-wise, Jack is pretty much the same now. The first night was rough, for the first time since we brought him home from the hospital after he was born, Jackson woke up at midnight and was inconsolable until 6 am. That’s completely unusual for him, he’s been sleeping through the night since 7 months and putting himself to sleep since 10 months. How quickly you forget how heart-wrenching a crying baby can be. The only thing that seemed to comfort him was nursing, wasn’t use to that neither. I’m pretty sore from his marathon feedings but I’ll let them fall off if it means consoling him!

So yeah, things are pretty messy over here. The house is messy, Jackson is messy (he’s all of a sudden refusing to take a bath?!), our schedule is messy. My nerves are definitely messy. I know, of course, that this can’t last but until then, you can find me in the kitchen making brownies and maybe a chocolate cake.

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

Let me introduce you to my dear friend, Pati. More than 15 years ago, she walked up and introduced herself to a shy girl who had just moved from Austin. The rest is, as they say, history. She’s kinda crazy, loves the spotlight and is always good for a laugh. She’s an amazing mother and a true friend, I’m sure you all would love her!

The reason for the inspiration board? I’m designing a custom bag for her and while it will definitely have the look and feel of a Gerbera Designs bag, I’m really trying to reflect the fun and spontaneity that I love so much in Pati’s personality.

So here is just a small snapshot of her style. I like to call it “California Casual.” Kinda sporty, kinda latin-y, always comfortable. Check back in a week or so to see what purse I come up with!

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

You know, it’s funny how life works out. One week, you’re just rolling along, living your life, thinking of what a lucky girl you are and then, as if to remind you that we all cast our nets in the sea of chance, you get a raging skin infection that turns your world upside down.

Or maybe right side up?

Because, as with all challenging moments in life, the lessons you learn from adversity and hardship are absolutely priceless.  Lessons that remind you that you are more than just a wounded face and that while you ache to kiss the boys in your life, you still have two hands to hold them and two legs to run after them with. You can see their beautiful smiles and still fall asleep in the arms of the man you love.

You are lucky to have friends that make you laugh, making you wonder if people are staring because of your face or because of the great time you all are having. Lucky to have family that cares and supports you when your body is exhausted from fighting off the infection. You realize that you are so very grateful that it wasn’t a more serious internal infection that would force you to be hospitalized, force you to take heavy medication, force you to abruptly wean your child. Glad that you have a lactation consultant to call when the doctors insist against nursing.

Lucky that you have an amazing partner in life who takes over responsibilities so that you can focus on healing your body and spirit. Lucky that you have the rest of your life to make it up to him, grateful that he doesn’t need you to.

So in the end, yes, you are one lucky girl. Temporarily deflated and insecure, but wonderfully lucky nonetheless.

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

Hard to believe it’s my 32nd birthday today. I still feel like I just got out of high school. That my life is still just beginning and that I have so much more to learn. I still make silly mistakes and say things that I probably shouldn’t. I sometimes throw tantrums when I don’t want to vacuum or cook. I think it must have been some sort of huge cosmic mistake that that the world would put a kid in my care when in all actuality, I’m still feel like a kid myself.

And then I look in the mirror and for the first time in my life, the woman in the mirror is starting to look like the number on her birth certificate. There’s a sort of long-ness to my face and a shallow-ness to my skin that wasn’t there before. And bags?! Samsonite should hire me as their spokesperson. Last Christmas, I officially joined my older sister in the “Gifts That You Need When You Get Old” group when my mother gave me dark circles eye cream. It is a strange and bitter group to be a part of.

I’d like to say that it’s just the normal wear and tear that comes with being a full time mom, that all these physical changes aren’t indicative of how young I still feel inside but nope, I feel old inside too. I worry about all the people I love so dearly and wish I could go back to a time when I thought people in their 20’s were adults and death was a far far distant threat. I’m tired, so so tired, at the end of most days and I now fall asleep while watching movies like my mother did.

There are some things that really suck about getting old (um, hello dark circles?!) but it really isn’t all bad. The last thing I wanted to do in this blog post was complain about my age! I love being thirty-two, seriously, I do. My thirties fit me in so many more ways than my twenties ever did. I’m starting to find a calmness to life. Things that would have really upset me in the past now roll right off into the “Too Busy To Worry About” pile. I’ve finally have a certain self-assurance that reminds me to surround myself with people who “get” me and not worry too much about the people who don’t. That life is too short not to see my family every chance I get and to hang out with people who make me laugh. Jim and I have entered a point in our relationship that is strong, secure and intensely comforting. Those things can only be shared with the passage of time and tribulations. We’re coming on our 10 year anniversary later this year and I’m crazier than ever about him.

Ah, and let’s not forget Jackson. He may be responsible for 90% of my worrying but he’s also responsible for 90% of my giggles nowadays. Have I told you all that he’s taken to removing his pants in his crib before he takes his nap? That he took a whole row of steps while everyone was cheering for him at The Baby Cafe the other day? I must have mentioned that he’s now eating all by himself, like a big boy? Earlier today he wrapped his arms around my neck and snuggled into my chest, really hugging me for the first time. And just like that…I was a kid again. Falling in love all over for the first time.

And so yes, another year has brought around another birthday and I am reminded in a hundred million ways  that I am one Lucky Girl.

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.

I’ve taken to walking lately. Long, drawn out walks that take anywhere between an hour to an hour and half to complete. Sure, the walks are a great form of exercise and Jackson loves being outdoors but let’s not forget the real reason I take walks. I seem to be walking myself sane these days.

Before Jackson (was there ever really a time before Jackson? Hard to believe.), I usually chose running as my regular form of exercise. A good run got the heart and lungs working overtime quickly. I kept detailed notes on how far and fast I went, always pushing myself harder the next time to beat those records. I didn’t have time to go slower, I had a business to run and as they say, time is money. How different things are now. Sure, time is still money but whether I’m walking outside or playing in the den, I wouldn’t be in the studio working either way. I have a new boss now and he’s seriously got the cutest 4-tooth grin on this side of the Rio Grande!

These long walks started pretty early last year, about four weeks after JackJack made his grand appearance in this world. Looking back on that time now, it seems as if someone else was walking in my shoes. Someone who needed just a few minutes to herself before returning to the challenging world of breastfeeding and diaper counting. Someone who thought that if she could just walk far enough maybe her world would go back to normal again. I wish I could hug that girl in my memory and tell her it would all be okay. (To all you new mamas out there, it gets so much easier. I promise.)

Somewhere around six months my walks transformed from necessary escapes to calming meditations. It was around this time that Jackson started to really enjoy our walks and usually would fall asleep half way through. With Jackson preoccupied or asleep, I was able to find and listen to my inner voice. Nobody told me that after having a kid, you would desperately miss the silence. I’m not talking about the silence around the house, although you miss that too. As many of you know, a mother’s mind runs a 100 miles per hour thinking of speech delays, socialization, lunch, healthy snacks, leaching plastics, GMOs, cost of Montessori, public school downfalls and so on and so on. When I’m walking the only thing running through my mind is whether or not that beautiful white horse four houses down will be out today or not. All those things that seemed so dire while at home are just a little bit easier to swallow when you’re watching baby goats play.

Gone are the days of keeping track of how many miles I’ve gone and how quickly I can get back to work. There are some days I think that I could keep on walking forever, only turning back when I hear the sweet rustlings of a hungry child. I hope Jackson continues to enjoy our walks. I hope he grows to finds them as refreshing to his inner voice as I do. I hope to one day walk hand in hand with a sweet little boy, past the horses and the goats, explaining how walking made me a better mother.

Originally published at Indie Shopper. You can comment here or there.