One year ago today I experienced one of the most beautiful moments of my life. I watched one of my childhood-adulthood-everything in between best friends, give birth to her second son- Bohdi Joseph Hoskins. As a year has come and gone I can still feel the awe I felt watching him take his first breath, and I hope that memory stays tucked into my heart forever. Bohdi was born on a September 23, 2018. The day was sunny and cozy just like him. I remember waiting at my house for the call to come to the hospital, and thinking about what Bohdi would be for this world. His older brother Emerson, Alyssas first born had enriched our lives with so much love and laughter and we all knew he needed this baby brother to grow with. Emerson is all things boy- so we knew his little brother was going to be his person. I wondered if Bohdi would be the balance to Emersons wild, or the partner in crime that seems to be the trend with most Hoskins boys. Through out the year we have found that Bohdi is both. Emerson and Bohdi have an undeniable bond that is most prevalent when Emersons smiling at Bohdi makes him fall apart with the joyful sound of baby laughter. Bohdi is also the snugglier of the two. Most of the time when I see Emerson I try to bribe him into hugging me (typically with promises of donuts), where as Bodhi earnestly gives hugs to the person holding him. I can see how they are so similar and so different, and I love those boys for exactly who they are, and who they will become. NOW onto their mother- Alyssa. SHE IS THE BEST MOM. Seriously. I sit and watch her with her children, and see the life Kellen and her have created for their sons and I am so fucking proud of them. They work hard and are completely present and engaging with their children. Watching them love and interact with their energetic boys makes my heart full of all the good feels. I met Alyssa when she moved to Idaho in fourth grade and we have shared all of the growing up together moments since then. When I met Alyssa she had wild curly blonde hair- which I see in Emerson- and and a laugh that made everyone around her smile. TO THIS DAY one of my goals when I am around Alyssa is to make her laugh, because her laugh always has and always will make me feel special. In part Alyssa laughing makes me feel special because she herself has a wicked sense of humor, and making a funny person laugh inherently makes you funnier? I hope? And god knows she makes me laugh, the kind of laugh that becomes ugly and face distorting. My favorite kind of laughter, because when you finally calm down from the gut busting, you breathe deeply and remind yourself that you haven't laughed like that in a while. And how lucky am I to have friends who bring out that kind of joy?! Alyssa is also deeply empathetic and available as a friend. She feels peoples struggles and without many words can understand what you need. It's a gift, especially to those around her. As a mother, I see her understand her children on a level that is wholehearted. I don't know many people who can sit in the storm of a three year olds tantrum and understand that he is just a little person with big feelings. She is a kickass mother-friend-woman. When she asked Sadie, Leah, and I to be in the room for Bohdi's birth I was honored. But I don't think at the time I knew how precious it would be. Walking into the room that day had a specific feeling that I cannot articulate in a way that will capture the love. Watching everyone in the room- I knew they felt the same way I did. It was powerful to watch Alyssa and Kellen together as Alyssa delivered their second son into the world, and to watch Alyssa's mother-Toni- watch her daughter give birth. And finally to witness Emerson meet his baby brother. It was all love. Watching Bohdi take his first breath was a profound moment in my life. It was precious to watch him start his life, and I will always be moved by the moments in his journey- big and small. I was overcome with so much love on September 23, 2018. Sunshine and crispness to the air, the world welcomed Bohdi Joseph. Happy first birthday you sweet, sensitive, and happy soul. You are so loved.
-Your bonus Auntie Libby.
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Big news guys- I got bangs. After much writing and rewriting I have found that there is no tasteful way to announce to my blog that I slightly-drunkenly gave myself bangs, but ya know- It's something worth mentioning. Bangs, much like edibles are something I only do every five years or so to remind myself I can't handle them. You can laugh. On to other things-
Do you ever have a stuffed down hilarious childhood memory that randomly resurfaces as an adult? Last week the fair came to town, and I went with my friends to walk around with their kids and enjoy the little slice of deep-fried goodness that is the Latah County Fair. We walked around, ran into people we knew, took in the smells (which at moments was the sweetness of cotton candy and at other moments was that of potent pig shit) and laughed as we watched the kids devour all that is the fair. As I was sitting on a slab of concrete and listening to the live music I was hit with a memory of my childhood at the fair. I remembered waiting in line for a balloon animal with my brother and Nan. The details are a little fuzzy, but I specifically remember my Nan telling me she knew how to make balloon animals because she went to clown school. And I know that sounds so crazy that it could be written off as a childhood fabrication or misunderstanding, but if you knew Nan it wouldn't be hard to conceptualize- she was a goof ball in the best way. So I called my brother and he confirmed that this did indeed happen, but he was also unsure if this was just our Nan messing with us. Nan passed away in 2016, and I miss her. It's little memories like this that remind me how she will always sprinkle my life with delight. Dillon also reminded me that there are several photos of Nan in clown attire, but like I said she was a goof ball so she could have been doing that for fun. I have not been able to stop laughing since I remembered this. I also find it so funny because I recall being that age and wholeheartedly believing my grandma went to clown school. I had to try to confirm this with my mom and as I asked her on the phone she broke out into laughter. She was unsure if I was serious at first, but then in her own time began to recall the little tid bits of potential evidence that would lead us to believing Nan may just have legitimately went to clown school. I don't know if she did or didn't, but I think she would find immense joy in knowing that we wonder about it. And I love that we will probably never know for sure. -Libby 8 years old was a time to be a girl. At 8 I was fearless with my smile, that I hadn't quite grown into, and wildly in love with the world I knew. I liked my shaggy short hair and oversized sweatshirts, because I hadn't yet been taught that I shouldn't like ME.
This last weekend my mom and I were on a long road trip and I was telling her how precious I felt being 8 was. This conversation had been brought up because I had seen a picture of a few 8 year old girls at camp on my friends instagram, and it made me smile because I remembered being that age. Everything was pure and good. In my experiences I had a lot of little moments that impacted my understanding of my worth, that changed me from being the fearless girl I was at 8. I can still remember/hold onto times of being that fearless age. One particular memory is walking up a hill to my parents house from the store, and feeling the unyielding summer sun beat down on my back. I simply sat down for a break and broke open a watermelon I had bought with money my Nan had given me for a snack. I sat on the hill and watched cars drive by as I dug into the tastey watermelon with my hands. When I think of that memory I don't remember having any care about what anyone who drove by thought of me- sitting by the road eating watermelon and making a mess with the juices running down my arm and onto my clothes. I'm not saying as an adult I'm totally envious of being able to sit down and eat watermelon in the middle of town on a hot day- or maybe I am:)- but I am envious that I didn't care what anyone thought of me. I was simply enjoying myself, not really caring if I was seen by the world passing by. As I moved away from being fearless my goal was to be less seen. I didn't want people to notice the things that I didn't like about me. Without throwing out every single event in my life that made me feel small, overtime I moved away from the sparkly soul I was at 8. I don't believe the way young girls flip the switch from the fearlessness of being 8 to the self doubt of later adolescence is accidental. During the car ride my mom opened up to me about how when I was that age she had bought a book called "Reviving Ophelia" by Mary Pipher. She said she bought the book because she didn't want me to grow up hating myself, and she was struggling with watching me struggle. And truth be told- my mom was empowering towards me. She always liked me, and celebrated who I was. She is kickass, hence why I always write about her. She told me in our little road trip convo, that no girl starts out thinking she will be a victim of circumstances or events. Shit happens and sometimes we are aware that it is happening, but not sure what we did to deserve it. After hearing her explanation of what changes people away from fearless, I was like "Oh fuuuuuck we have to do better". WE have to do better for girls who think their worth is definable by something they saw on tv, or heard in the hall at school. We should lead by example that self love is a life long journey, and no one is unscathed by adolescent self doubt. SO- whether someone is still 8 and fearless, or somewhere further on in their journey- nourish them. -Libby I can't sleep because I drank too much coffee today. Typical. I figured I would put my restlessness to good use and update the blog! Hopefully I still have some people who check it every once in a while- people other than my mother. HOLLA JILL!
This summer I have been living at home while I wait for the new lease on my apartment to start. I move in to the new apartment next week, and as my time back at my parents house winds to an end I can't help but think we are both ready for me to get the hell out. Kind of kidding. My parents are pretty chill, and I am way harder to live with than they are. My moms the patron saint of dealing with Libby antics, and me moving home has been testing her sainthood. Kind of kidding- again. I am very grateful to have people who support me the way my parents do. HOLLA PAUL AND JILL! As I wrote earlier I have a tendency to way over do the caffeine. I am constantly teetering on too little and too much. Finding the sweet spot of balance is not an easy task for me. I hope this is a flaw I learn to correct in the near future because I would love to be a functioning adult rather than a toss up between an exhausted indoor cat, or a shaky irritable troll. Caffeine fueled restlessness has led me to prepare for moving. I have been working on packing my room to move into the apartment. I've decided to minimize my wardrobe as I pack. I have so many articles of clothing that a grown ass 23 year old woman simply shouldn't own. I don't know why I hold on to clothing and attach such sentimental value to things, but I have to let some things go. I finally had the internal debate to throw away my Justin Bieber Purpose Tour shirt. I was a Bieleber when I was 15, and part of me deep down thinks I still could be? Most likely not, so I think I will toss my old haggard (the letters are all faded and the arm pit is busted) JBiebes shirt and move on to a more simplistic wardrobe. As I simplify my wardrobe I also feel more inclined to toss out my clutter. I love things that collect dust. My theory is that as I get rid of junk I don't really need, I will find it easier to keep my life organized. AND IT ONLY TOOK ME 23 YEARS TO FIGURE IT OUT. The major issue I have had with decluttering is my love and addiction for scrolling through Amazon. I feel like the Little Mermaid when she searched through the ocean for thingamabobs (spoons), as I search through the Amazon for thingamajigs (shit I don't need). If you don't have an Amazon, good for you. You're probably a healthier human than I. It is so easy to hop on to that sight just to browse, and the next thing you know you have over $100 worth of junk in your cart just waiting to sit on a shelf in your apartment. I should probably read some self help books on how not to impulse shop when I'm bored or can't sleep. Maybe someone can guide me to the light, that is not making poor Amazon purchases. Or maybe I am finally growing into adulthood where you start making more intentional purchases to better your life, rather than browsing grilled cheese toasters when intoxicated. Fingers crossed 23 is the year I grow up. Sorry this blog was so short! I just wanted to write a little while I took a break from sorting through my life, clothes, amazon cart, books, etc. -The Big Libowski Shapeless is home.
In echoing sqaulls of Great Blue Heron, calling us to waves, not of oceans- but of fields in movement, golden under the blue, jazz and thunder, birds and children, music- palpable, home wrapped around us like a mothers hug, long over due. -Libs Aaaaaah April babies. They are the best kind of people, I know because I am one of them. So is my best friend Sidney, so that just goes on to validate my point. Tomorrow, APRIL 2 is Sidney's 23rd birthday. She thinks I don't know her birthday because I may have JOKINGLY said it was April 1st (April foooooools!). Sidney- if you're reading this, which I know you are because you're obsessed with me -kidding- HAPPY BIRTHDAY! I've known Sidney since Kindergarten. Our memories range from spontaneous moments to everyday rhythm. We have been along for each others iconic hair cuts in elementary school, to sharing a gym locker in junior high, to spending our first year of high school summer memorizing the movie 'Stand By Me', to driving to the Oregon Coast the week before finals in college. Our friendship has deep roots in the humor of our childhood to growing into adulthood together. Most people find our friendship overwhelming because we can com bust into obnoxious laughter just by giving each other a slight glance. Sidney is also my friend who could faithfully and correctly recite my food and coffee orders, if that doesn't deem her my best friend I don't know what does. I also have her preferences down to an art form, but that's easier because Sidney always orders hot wings. It's one of the most charming qualities in a person. Someone who likes hot wings for every meal. Simply lovely. Spicy wings for a spicy broad. Sidneys turning 23 so I thought I'd list of 23 of my favorite things about her; 1. She always picked me in school sports despite my lack of athletic ability. 2. She is generous and kind to everyone. 3. We have the same shoe size,,, and she has great taste in shoes. 4. She occasionally debates getting bangs, and I am a firm believer that real honest people have that conversation with themselves from time to time. 5. She is an avid reader, she can always recommend or lend a good book. 6. She loves her family. 7. She's a HELL OF A TAP DANCER 8. She can't sing in rhythm, but damn she tries. 9. She says pretzels weird, she pronounces them prentzels, but at this point I'm just rolling with her blatant mispronunciation of the word. 10. She loves to hike. 11. She laughs at all my flop jokes when no one else does. 12. She always lets me put as much salt and butter on popcorn at the movies, and pretends she likes it to appease me. 13. SHE IS THE KWEEEEN of thrift shopping. She has the innate ability to find hidden gems. 10/10 recommend taking her thrifting. 14. She once full out tackled a boy to the ground in junior high for lying about seeing my boobs. I'm talking she laid out his lying ass. Best friend. 15. She always dancing theatrically despite if people are watching. 16. She stands by the belief that Kraft Mac and Cheese is superior to most all other pasta. 17. She is always down for road trips. 18. She brings me coffee and eggs benedict to work. 19. She has advanced and well timed Office references. 20. I once accidentally got a Lincoln Park CD stuck in her car for over a year, and she is still my friend to this day. Even though she can no longer listen to that CD without getting irrationally mad. 21. She loves the ocean. 22. She recommends the best music. 23. She is the best story teller. When she retells an event it can bring me to tears with laughter because she knows how to tell a gut busting story. HAPPY BDAY SID! I hope 23 brings you happiness. -Libby How is everyone enjoying this never ending winter? I don't find it all that lovely. When I look out the window in the morning and see a new sheet of fresh white snow splayed across my yard I can feel my body tensing. After a few cups of coffee and reminding myself that I'm being obnoxious I am able to move forward with my day, despite my initial reaction to the weather. I love all seasons so I don't particularly hate snow, I just believe by the time March rolls around we should have more sunshine! There is no better feeling than the sun warming your face on a beautiful day after a relentless winter. I was walking into the grocery store last week and had to stop in the parking lot and lift my head a little higher because I could actually feel my face soaking in the sunshine. We are finally having more of those sunny brisk days where you can almost believe that the spring peaking through. The spring is a surge of new life, and I am endlessly astonished by the transition. The past few weeks I have been busy with the spring semester hustle, and I have also been taking more time to journal and read books that I love. This blog is more of an update for my readers+family+friends+random people who accidentally stumbled across this blog. As a life update it's important for me to report I've been watching Game of Thrones and it's a game changer. This past year I've transitioned into an elderly woman who can't stay up past 10pm and no longer possesses the capacity to drink on week nights, but I have been become the kind of person who splurges every so often to stay up and watch an episode of GOT with my roommate/best friend/breakfast enthusiast - Sidney. This show has been out for 8 years- and is based off a popular book series, so this recommendation doesn't hold a lot of weight. Per usual I've spent too much time writing about television, my apologies. In other news I have been working on a museum exhibit text for one of my public history classes. It has been super interesting diving into research that has allowed me to look through archives. I have also been able to spend time at our local museum for Nez Perce County. I love history, so museums are naturally fascinating to me. I highly recommend visiting any local museums in your area because it supports local public history. I will try to give an update on the project once it is finished.
"It was one of those March days when the sun shines hot and the wind blows cold; when it is summer in the light, and winter in the shade" -Charles Dickens -Libby In a previous blog I mentioned that my mom is a nurse. Because I was raised by a nurse, I am a firm believer that they are a whole different breed in the most spectacular way. Nurses are the type of people you could write a book about because they flow with the type of contradictions that allow for a wicked sense of humor wrapped in a professional demeanor, and gentle souls who will call you out on your bullshit. Nurses are also the kind of people who are not phased by my foul mouth. I use the F-word like a comma, and they are never offended. It's refreshing. This blog was inspired by my best friend Sadie, who recently graduated from nursing school. WOOHOO! Some of you who are faithful readers may be thinking, Sadie? The one whom accompanies you with all of your mischief? Yes, like I said nurses (Sadie, specifically) are a different breed. Sadie is my friend who has a heart for understanding the world around her, and she never falters in loving everyone she crosses. But she's also the type of broad who has called me out a time or two. Like I said, she's a walking contradiction in the best way. Sadie's mom, Julie, is also a nurse-so she knew the joys of being raised by a strong woman. We have always been like sisters. Both of our moms instilled a sense of independence in us. I credit them to part of our mischief. The first time I remember meeting Sadie, my grandma-Nan was taking me for a walk around the block. It was summertime and I was around 6 years old. As my grandma and I made our way up a hill, we passed Sadie's grandpas house. He lived about two minuted from my parents, which would become extremely convenient as our friendship blossomed. Sadie was this tiny little thing with long blonde hair and a sweet smile. I remember Nan stopping to talk to her grandpa as we both stared at each other, both a little too shy to do anything other than wait for our grandparents to stop talking. After a few minutes our grandparents finally introduced us and the rest is history. Sadie has always contrasted me. She was always taller and had lighter hair, and was softer spoken, and better at math. When we were growing up we were convinced we had no differences. We use to make plans to "Freaky Friday" our parents, and take each others places. This isn't to say we thought they were stupid we just knew how immensely talented our acting was. Some might say we thought of ourselves as child prodigies, as well as doppelgangers. Part of childhood is convincing your friends they can do the impossible. It was impossible for us to pass off as each other, but I'm certain we felt so in sync that we even fooled ourselves. For as different as we are, we also are grounded in the same things. Sadie is able to rival my love for food and coffee. She writes poetically when she is in nature, even when it's just a text to me about how beautiful the water is where she is. Sadie shares my commitment to singing loudly with little regard to actual lyrics. My life would be less whole and not as much fun without her laugh seeking joy. Sadie is all moved to Seattle now to start this next chapter in life. I'm so excited and proud, and also pumped I have a second home in Washington;). Sadie will be an excellent nurse and the nursing profession is lucky to have her. As I have always said, nurses are the type of people you could write a book about. And maybe one day when I'm a little old lady I will have enough gut busting stories to write about my adventures with Sadie. And with all the memories we have compacted into our 16 years of friendship, we will never lack the content to do so.
Love you Sadie! -Libs I read this earlier, and I thought it was profound advice. So I will share it with you!
"5 things we never say to people we love but we should: 1. It is an honor that we exist in the same space and time didn't choose to separate us by eons. 2. The world is a better place with your soul in it. 3. Laughing with you plucks anxiety out of my heart, you are a gift to my lungs. 4.Your past is not a threat, it's what brought you to me. 5. I pray about you, still. -Malanda Jean-Claude" SOAK THAT IN PEOPLE! Hello my faithful readers. Welcome to the blog you have all been waiting for. Where is the HOT place to get ranch in Moscow. No one has asked me to create this blog post, but I know what's good for my readers. Anyone who knows me knows I put ranch on everything, even my spaghetti. For people who are closest to me (my mom), wondering why I am writing this post in the middle of my finals week, yes I am procrastinating on studying. But I am also providing people with a valuable resource, so …. priorities? Without any further bullshit, here is a list of the best places in the dirty Scow' to get ranch with your meal:
-Libby |
AuthorLibby Anne Groseclose Archives
June 2023
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