Remembering My Sister…

Posted by | personal, Uncategorized | 4 Comments

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As I mentioned in a previous post, I lost my sister in December of this year. When news first broke that my sister died, several media outlets contacted me for information and I politely declined to comment. Reporters are relentless and I could never do their job. While I avoided all emails and phone calls, a message came through from on facebook from a reporter asking to do a story on my sisters legacy. It immediately caught my interest. I contacted the reporter because I wanted my sisters children to have a story to remember their mother. I wanted them to be able to google her name when they’re older and see stories other than the violent titles that newspapers use to capture readers.
I had a phone interview with a reporter just days after my sisters funeral, with my emotions still very fresh. Before we spoke on the phone, I specifically told her I was interested in speaking only about my sister. She started by asking me some lighthearted questions to get to know me. She asked who I am, where I went to college, where we grew up. I remember sipping my peppermint tea at my kitchen island and my hands were shaking. I’ve never been interviewed before and I didn’t know what to expect. I was so nervous that I wouldn’t be able to fully articulate what my sisters true legacy is. I went over my answers in my head over and over again because I wanted them to be perfect so whoever read about Christine Dzienisiewski knew what an incredible woman she was. But as soon as the reporter asked if she was my only sibling, I couldn’t hold in my emotions. There were a few questions that took me several minutes to answer because I couldn’t speak through my tears. She was calm and professional and let me cry.
She asked me our childhood, her career and her hobbies. After we were wrapping up the conversation, she briefly asked questions looking for more information to create a “jucier” story but I wouldn’t give it to her. After weeks of empty promises, the story was never published. I can only assume it’s because my answers didn’t give more information about her death. My story was simply about broken hearted little sister trying to remember her big sister. I suppose there’s nothing really newsworthy about that. I was so excited to see my story through someone elses words and was really disappointed that the story was never published.

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I’ve never been one to keep a journal, other than this little blog. I often hesitate posting personal things because this blogged is linked to my business. I recently told a client these feelings and she said that if someone reads about me pouring my heart out and they don’t want to work with me, than it wasn’t a right fit to begin with. She’s right. If you don’t like my posts, or this is too personal than I don’t want to work with you either. ;) My business is my life: it’s hard to separate the two and I am very much an open book. My clients and I develop a close relationship throughout the design process so I am inviting you into my life.

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Writing what I learned this year was really therapeutic so I thought it might be helpful for me to write about my sister and to create that legacy “article” I started months ago. But, how do I share a legacy of a woman who touched so many lives? Do I even know my own sister well enough to share her legacy? I am sure she didn’t even know herself well enough to know what her powerful legacy would be. And honestly… if you look at yourself, do you really know yourself well enough to know the impact you have on people? In my twenties, I was very insecure because I didn’t really feel like I knew who I truly was as a person. I was still figuring myself out, developing my career, and starting my life with Ryan. Within this past year, I feel like I have truly found myself and this experience has really shown me who I am as a person. I feel like tragedy shows a persons true colors and I am proud of myself, and really love who I am. Even though I lost my sister and I miss her terribly every single day, she has taught me an incredibly invaluable life lesson. Because of my sister, I am more emotionally aware and stronger than I ever was.

Christine Theresa Dzienisiewski was born May 19, 1977 and is my parents first born. Since I’m seven years younger, I obviously don’t have many stories about her younger childhood, but I can write about my first memories of her. My parents have a video of them telling her she was going to be a big sister. I remember her asking if they’d love me more than her (they, of course, said never), and then she said she wanted to name me big bird or something silly like that. I’m thankful that my parents didn’t take her name option too seriously. :)

When I think back to our childhood there are a few very clear memories that stick out to me. My first memory is of us in her bedroom playing a game we called “boat” when I was about five years old. Our silly game was nothing fancy. We would pretend that her bed was our ship, the blue wall-to-wall carpeting in her bedroom was the ocean, and my fisher price rotary dial phone was the only thing we had on board. She used my phone to “call” members of New Kids on the Block and then she would always pretend to go overboard. I would always cry and thought she literally was going to get eaten by sharks.
Another favorite memory I have of our childhood is of her dressing up like Madonna and putting on shows in my bedroom at night to help me go to sleep. She had the lace gloves to look like Madonna, and if you grew up in the 80’s/90’s, I’m sure you did, too. We had a big brown shopping bag of leftover fabric scraps from my grandmothers sewing projects and we’d use the material as dress up “clothes”. She’d drape them over herself very dramatically and say that she was late for the award show and leave my room in a huff. I can specifically remember falling asleep one night smiling because she spent the entire night with me. Her annoying little sister. These memories I have of her as a child are funny to me because it was exactly her personality as an adult: dramatic, goofy and creative.

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There were also times when she tormented me, as any older sibling does. We had a vacation house in the Poconos, and she would always tell me that bears could climb the side of the houses. So my imagination tricked me into seeing a bear outside my second story bedroom in the middle of the night one night. So mean. She also used to tell me that if I gave my parents the middle finger that it meant I wanted to go to Disneyworld. So I remember giving my dad the finger in Bradlees and getting in so much trouble. Looking back, these stories make me smile because it was a normal sibling relationship. But back then I didn’t understand why she didn’t want to play with me.

I was always jealous of my friends relationships with their siblings growing up because they were closer in age, and seemed to have more in common. Because my sister and I were 7 years apart, there was always such a huge gap in our lives. I know she was always proud of me, was always very protective of me, but I always wished we were closer. It wasn’t until I was 15 that our relationship really deepened. By this point she had already taught me how to shave my legs, that if you’re wearing open toed shoes you should always have a pedicure, and even gave me “the talk” because our parents were always too awkward to talk about sex. She bought me my first thong because she said that you should never have panty lines. And we both hate the word “panty”. Just a strange pet peeve for both of us. :) I was so excited to have that true sister relationship and we started spending a lot of time together by this point. She took me to get my belly button pierced when I was 16 (whoops!) and she pretended she was my aunt. My mom was so angry with us when she eventually found out, but my sister just laughed it off. She was the wild child, and I was always the quiet, innocent one. That year she also taught me how to snowboard, something I will eventually teach my nephew and niece since it was something she loved it so much. She loved an adrenaline rush: she loved snowboarding, four wheelers, tattoos, loved roller coasters, always talked about going sky diving, and loved to travel.

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One of my favorite memories of my sister was the day Kaytlynn was born. Christopher had just walked into the room wearing his “bodyguard for my new sister” tee shirt my sister made him. He climbed up on the bed next to her while she was holding Kaytlynn and Christine looked so content. Christopher kissed little Kaytlynn’s head and was smitten right away. You could tell that Christine felt her family was finally complete. I remember her posting on facebook that night that saying “my heart feels so full <3″. Christine wanted a family for literally as long as I can remember. She started subscribing to Martha Stewart Wedding magazine when she was 17 years old and kept every issue until she eventually moved out of my parents house. She was a romantic at heart and just wanted to love and be loved.

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I’ve always found it interesting how people are remembered once they die. When I look at my sisters facebook page, especially once she first died, it was heartwarming to see what people said. They remember her passion for photography, her photos of sunrises and sunsets, how she was the life of the party, and of course what an amazing mother she was. But, it’s funny to me that no one mentioned her crazy, twisted, sarcastic sense of humor. She was loud and loved to make everyone laugh, no matter where you were. She was known to say that she’s the kind of person “to have fun at a funeral”, so I mentioned this in my toast at her repast. She was so embarrassing to go to funerals with because she’d be so silly just to make someone smile. But that’s also what I love most about her. She was loud and had jokes that made you laugh until your belly hurt even if it was completely inappropriate.

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I see so much of my sister in each of the kids. Christopher can be loud and silly, but is also gentle and cuddly. Kaytlynn is insanely maternal, even at such young age, but she is feisty and stubborn like my sister. She loves when I open the sunroof in the car and we listen to the music so loud that you can barely hear us singing. I get teary eyed and smile every time we do this because this is something my sister used to do with me when she first got her license. When I’m with them, I feel like I’m with my sister and it feels amazing. I know they are literally a piece of her and I will cherish that forever.

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I started writing this post months ago and each time I sign online to finish it, I get writers block and random memories come into my head. I think of my sister every day. Honestly, I am probably reminded by her at least every hour. Silly things remind me of her like passing a Wawa, because she lover their Cappuccino or as she called it, “Crackaccino”. Anytime I see a beautiful sunset, I think of her because she often posted pictures on facebook. Her favorite sunsets were the bright pink ones right before or after a storm. I think of her any time I take a picture because photography was a huge passion of hers. It seems that any song reminds me of her these days, especially anything from Kings of Leon, No Doubt or Adele because she loved them. “Take Me to Church” so specifically reminds me of her, especially that first verse and because it was really popular shortly after she died. Anytime I see a Twilight marathon come on TV, I think of her odd fascination with the series. She was obsessed with Robert Pattinson and I never understood why and teased her about it. Any time I have a glass of wine, or see wine I think of her. If she was having a really bad day, she would have a “Christine sized” glass of wine… and that glass was basically filled to the rim. Anytime I see a bunny I think of her because she absolutely loved bunnies and had one as a pet in her early 20’s. Every day I am reminded by little things how much I miss my sister and how quirky she was.

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When we were going through her personal items to clear out the house, I came across a card I gave to her in 2004. At the time I gave it to her I was 20 and she was 27. It says…” Whoever said ‘A sister is more than a friend’ was right… Sure, friends are fun to run around with…. you get to try out new things, different styles, other ways of thought. But even best friends don’t really know each other the way sisters do. With you, it’s no use pretending to be happier than I am or nonchalant when something really big happens. You know where I come from, what all my hidden feelings are, and why. You know the real me, through and through, and though that means we know how to push each others buttons better than anybody, it also means we both know we have a place to go where we will always be accepted and understood. I can’t imagine a life without that feeling of being truly known and having a place I truly belong… I’m so glad we have each other.” I wish I could say I wrote that, but it was a beautiful card from hallmark. I wrote on the bottom in my curly, girly writing “I couldn’t have said it better myself, I love you.” I was touched that she kept it for all these years, and it broke my heart that I don’t have her anymore.

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I’ll never feel like this post is complete because I can’t describe my sister in just a few paragraphs. My sister was a beautiful woman and she is so complex to describe who she was as a person. I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to share with the kids who she was and just how deeply she loved them.

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Brooklyn Brownstone Kitchen

Posted by | interior design, kitchens | No Comments

You probably recognize this kitchen from your favorite blogs and/or pinterest from the famous Jenna Lyons Brooklyn brownstone.   I personally have referred back to this home several times, and used this very kitchen as inspiration for current projects. So when I came across this blog post mentioning that the brownstone sold, and the new owners hired Roman and Williams to redesign the spaces I was so surprised! Don’t get me wrong, Roman and Williams is one of my favorite designers… but the spaces were so perfect! I’m not sure which I like better. I love how bright and airy the Jenna Lyons kitchen, but I so admire that every Roman and Williams design screams their name.

lyons kitchen beforeJenna Lyons Kitchen “Before”

lyons kitchen afterRoman and Williams kitchen “After”

Which do you like better? They are both so beautiful! Take a look at Domain to see the other interior photos of the spaces.

Things I’ve Learned This Year

Posted by | Uncategorized | 4 Comments

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You may have noticed that I haven’t had a blog post in quite some time. When I first started my blog in 2007, then named ‘pennyrounds’, I had just become unemployed and wrote often to stay inspired and to stay busy. Ryan would watch football religiously every Sunday and I would write and schedule the upcoming weeks posts on whatever inspired me. Looking back, those days feel so simple and sweet. We were still dating and just bought our first place together. It was a teeny studio condo near the train station so I could commute into the city and it was perfect for us at the time. Even though I may not have the free time like a used to (a blessing), I’m making it a goal of mine to produce more content for my blog. It’s important for me to stay connected with the few of you who read my blog (thank you!) and to stay connected with clients, both former and current. In addition to staying connected, I love looking back on old posts and seeing this as a journal. This past year has been the most extreme roller coaster and I learned an enormous amount about myself, my family and the people who I choose to share my life with.

This upcoming Saturday is my 31st birthday. Ever since I was a teenager, I wanted to be thirty years old. Thirty just seemed like the age where life started, and in many ways it did for me. Although, now that I’m turning 31, it doesn’t seem so shiny and monumental. This past year was the best and worst year of my life. I thought it would be helpful for me to share what I’ve learned in the past year…

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Becoming a mother was one of the most amazing experiences of my life. Ryan and I were married for three years before I got pregnant, and it probably took me that long to convince him that there is never a “right” time to have a baby. I knew how badly I wanted to start a family but it took my over-analytical husband a bit longer to stop thinking so much. I think he was waiting for a moment where it became clear that it was the perfect time to get pregnant but everyone will tell you that time will never come. You will always be worried about if you have enough money saved, if you’ve traveled enough, if your home is big enough, or if your job is secure.. I was never, ever scared and knew that we would be amazing and loving parents.

I was fortunate to have an extremely easy pregnancy. I never once got sick and even when my body was psychically exhausted I savored it. I felt lucky to be able to get pregnant, to experience this wonderful miracle created out of so much love. I can’t explain how much I enjoyed every single day of being pregnant and feeling my little boy grow inside of me. Last year around this time I was nine months pregnant and waiting impatiently to meet Cole. It wasn’t because I didn’t want to be pregnant anymore, but I just wanted to meet the new love of my life.

My water broke in the middle of the night April 9, 2014,  the night before I was supposed to be induced. We went to the hospital at 3am, and I delivered Cole at 4:32pm and the entire delivery was so calm and smooth. Exactly the opposite of what I was expecting it to be. Even after I delivered Cole, I missed him being in my belly. Of course I’m happy to have a healthy baby boy, but I missed the little wriggles and squirms inside my belly.

I often catch Ryan staring at Cole and whispering to him how much he loves him. It’s funny thinking back at how scared he was to become a father and how natural it is for him. Motherhood is exactly what I pictured… the intense love that literally brings tears to my eyes, the sleepless nights, the dirty diapers, the good, the bad and the ugly. I savor all of it because I know in the blink of an eye, he’s going to be 13 and will probably embarrassed of his mother… and then he’ll be 18 going off to college. I cherish every single day with Cole and am so blessed to have such a kind, loving and funny little boy as my son.

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Breastfeeding Cole was the most connected I’ve ever felt to someone. I wasn’t breastfed as a baby and wasn’t sure how comfortable I’d feel nursing my baby, but I knew I wanted to at least try. When Cole was born April 10, 2014, they immediately him placed on my belly for skin-to-skin and I was filled with so much incredible emotion. He sucked on his thumb for a little while (which he hasn’t done since) and then he began to nurse. That moment made it feel so incredibly real to me. That I was a mother, and my sole responsibility was to nurture this wrinkly little baby. :) I continued to breastfeed that hungry little boy for seven months and miss that wonderful connection. I miss the look he gave me while he fell asleep resting on my belly, the way he held my finger in the early months. Those intimate moments with him and memories I’ll cherish forever.

Having a baby brought relationships into my life that I wasn’t expecting. After having Cole, I joined the breastfeeding support group at Overlook Hospital because I was having trouble making enough milk to feed my 8 lb 15 oz little meatball. He was hungry constantly and I needed help, but I also needed a reason to get out of the house every week. Being a new mom at home alone with a baby makes you feel lonely. I looked forward to this group every Tuesday morning and went religiously hoping to make other “mom friends”. I never expected to meet an amazing support system of women who helped me nurse Cole longer than my original goal, and they’ve also become great friends.

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Current friendships change and evolve as you grown older. This one was a hard one for me to learn. After I had Cole, I was feeling a unique loneliness… Originally I thought it was baby blues, but now looking back I’m realizing how relationships change as you become an adult. At the time, I was worried I was growing apart from some of my friends because I was the only one who had a baby. I am fortunate to have friends that I’ve known for decades, and I’m learning that our relationships are changing and evolving. We don’t have time to spend hours talking on the phone about boys like we did in high school, and we’d be awkward old ladies to be spending so much time in bars like we did in our twenties. We may not see each other every week, or chat often but that doesn’t mean that we’re growing apart. It just means that you need to make more of an effort to make plans and when you do spend time together it’ll be more special. There will be times in your life where you’ll feel closer than others, and that’s okay. All relationships change and evolve but we need to invest in them.

Buying an old home feels like a money pit.  :) Ryan and I always knew we wanted to buy an old home and I’m being impatient with the timing it’s taking to remodel it the way I’d like. This will likely be our forever home (with maybe potentially adding an addition in the future) so living in a neighborhood where we could plant our family roots was incredibly important to us. We’ve only been here since August and are loving it so far. We are so excited for warmer weather so we can start enjoying the yard with Cole as he learns to walk!

It’s okay to ask for help. Having a baby and running my own company is not easy and there were some growing pains in the beginning. I am fortunate to have so much help with Cole. He goes to daycare 3 times a week which he loves, and he spends two days with my parents. There is nothing sweeter than seeing your baby light up when he sees or hears your own mothers voice. I am thankful that he has the experience of both daycare to be social and one-on-one with my parents to get spoiled.

This year I need to ask for more help with my business. I know my strengths and my weaknesses. In order to have another successful year, I need to hire people to help me with those tasks that I don’t have the time to focus on so I can invest more time with clients.

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Being creative all the time is exhausting. This wasn’t something new that I learned this year, but that’s how I’m feeling right now. I’m currently taking on less projects so I can really fully focus on my current projects. I need to work less on nights and weekends so I can spend more time with family. In order to be a better designer, I need to recharge my battery so I can be refreshed during the week. I love what I do and am so grateful that I have clients who inspire me, support me and respect me. This is a reminder that I need to ask for help so I can be the best designer I can be.
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Life is precious.  This one is a tough one. Those who are close to me, and all of my current clients know that I tragically lost my sister this year. Her life was taken from her December 27, 2014. She was 37, leaving behind two small children, my 8 year old nephew and my 2.5 year old niece.

This part hurts me the most. That memories of my sister will eventually fade from my young nephew’s memory, and that my niece will likely never remember her mother. We will tell them stories to keep her spirit alive and these will become their memories that they remember of her. After sorting through my sisters belongings I came across something my sister filled out asking what she wanted to be when she grew up. She said she wanted to be a ballerina, a teacher and a mommy. She was an incredible mother and an inspiring teacher, although I’m sure she’d agree she was not a graceful ballerina. My niece and nephew were her greatest pride in life and I see so much of her in each of them. Spending time with them since she’s passed has been very therapeutic for me because I feel like I’m with her when I’m with them.

My sister and I are seven years apart because my mother had two miscarriages in between each of us. Growing up I often felt like an only child because she was so much older than me, but I desperately wanted to spend time with her and to be like her. It wasn’t until I turned 16 that she eventually started to like me and we became closer. Much like my friendships I mentioned earlier, my relationship with my sister evolved over the course of the past 15 years and we were closer some years than others. When I became pregnant with Cole, she was the first person I told after Ryan. I remember her jumping up and down and crying in her kitchen because she was so happy. Our relationship immediately deepened as we bonded over me becoming a mother. Our lives were starting to become more in sync now that I was also married and also a mother. After some years of feeling like we’d grown apart, I was so looking forward to our relationship getting closer again. I will never “get over” losing my sister, but I’m learning to live with the grief. People often ask if I have any other siblings, and responding “no” has been the hardest for me. I’m literally an only child now with just memories with my sister. I miss the relationship we were growing into, and I miss the childhood relationship we shared. No one will ever understand your childhood like your siblings, and it’s sad to think that I don’t have her by my side as my parents get older.

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You have no idea how many lives you truly touch. My sister easily had 800 people had her wake. Most people waited in line for hours to come and show their respect for my sister and to support my family. There were so many people that my sister came in contact with throughout her life that she connected with. I mentioned earlier that my sister was a teacher. Several of her students came to show their respect with tears in their eyes. My sister and I look a lot alike, so the students instantly knew I was “Mrs. D’s” sister and came up to hug me. Each student told me a story about her and it seemed they all had the same impression. She was an inspiring teacher who made learning interesting and exciting because she was truly invested in their lives. There were several times where I looked around the packed funeral home and cried. Yes, I was sad because I lost my only sister. But, I was also so incredibly proud of her life. She had so many people who truly loved her and I don’t think she ever realized how many people would miss her when she died. I try and find comfort knowing that even though she died at a young age, she still experienced going to college, falling in love, getting married and becoming a mother.

This forced me to think about my life and how many people I come in contact on what seems like an average day. It’s forced me to be more present in each of my conversations, even if it’s just a brief conversation with your barista at the coffee shop. My sister got coffee every morning and even the woman who made my sister’s coffee had stories to share with me. Your daily encounters may seem insignificant until you’re not able to have them anymore.

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Things happen out of your control and you can only be responsible for your own actions. My parents and I did an eight week seminar at a local church learning how to “heal a grieving heart”. I joke that all my new friends are 80 year old widows, but I love that. I like to think when I’m their age, I’ll have 30-year-olds interested in me and my life. In this group, we listed all of our regrets relating to our loved ones death. No one will ever truly know what happened the night my sister died and when brother-in-law took his own life. But I know that nothing I could have done could have changed the outcome.

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Family. When something so terrible and tragic happened, I realized how small my family truly is. This tragedy has brought me, my mother and my father closer together and we’re learning how to communicate with each other better. This situation has put me in a different role and I feel like I’m now taking care of my parents. I can’t imagine the tremendous grief they must feel from losing a child. Often when my mother talks about my sister, she refers to giving birth to her and I immediately think of Cole. As a parent, you do the best to raise your children to grow, develop, and make the right decisions. But sometimes life makes decisions for you, and sadly they are out of your control. In the end, my parents and I have each other and I’ll be there for them forever. I also know that Ryan’s family is my family, through and through. I continually feel their love and support.

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My husband is the most incredible man. I’ve always known this, but the past year has really shown me “for better and for worse”. The night Cole was born, and after all our guests left, Ryan quietly rocked Cole and cried happy tears. He told me how much he loved me and how happy he was. This moment is my favorite moment in my entire life. Seeing the man you love… the father of your child… rock your baby and show such raw emotion was so beautiful for me to see. I’ve only seen Ryan cry once when his father died when he was 19, (we’ve been through it all) so this moment made me even prouder that I chose Ryan to be my husband. Ryan has always been a full partner in life – whether it be helping me with work when I’m overwhelmed, cooking dinner if I need a hand, or cleaning the house. There has never been a “score card” where one person does one thing in the relationship, and the other person does another. We have always been a team. Ryan is an incredible father and I love seeing his relationship develop with Cole. As I assumed, Ryan is the goofy, silly dad that Cole goes to for tickling and giggles. And I’m the mama bear where Cole comes to for comfort.

When you say your vows, the “worse” seems so far away. I always assumed that meant when we were old and gray and not 4 years after you’re married. The night of 12/27, I got a phone call at 1am when my mom quickly and breathlessly told me that my sister and her husband were dead. They didn’t know any other information and that’s all the police told us. I kept saying “you’re kidding… please tell me you’re kidding.” Who kids about something like that? I was in shock, and I still am. Ryan could tell something was wrong by my face and when I told him, it looked like someone kicked him in the stomach.

Ryan knew my sister for 16 years so she was a huge part of his life, too. The weeks that followed that painful phone call, Ryan proved to be the strength and rock in our family. He made phone calls to insurance companies, helped make funeral arrangements when we felt too numb to make decisions, and completely and 100% supported any decision regarding the permanent placement of the children. Every night he tells me how much he loves me and how strong I am, even when some days I don’t feel it inside. Ryan is the most loving husband and I am so blessed to have him to share my life with.

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I am surrounded by so much love. When you have a huge life changing event, you are reminded how many people really are on your side supporting you. The weeks after my sister’s death, my parents stayed with us and every day we had a full house of friends and family. There were days where we didn’t change out of our PJ’s and our friends didn’t care. They showed up with a bottle of wine, a box of tissues and just listened. I find extreme comfort knowing that Ryan’s sister, her husband and all our friends were here without judgement when times were really rough.
Beyond having an incredible support system, I have developed new relationships that are very special to me. Death bonds people in a different way, and I’ve become very close to people that were special to my sister. Having these new friends in my life helps me feel more connected to my sister.

You believe in the thoughts you tell yourself. I’ve always been a firm believer in this. If you live your life with a black cloud over your head, eventually you’re going to believe that you “have the worst luck”. If you live your life knowing that there are positive people and good in the world, you will see it in each of your days. Someone recently mentioned the book “The Secret” and The Law of Attraction to me and I need to do more research on that. I choose to see the good in people, and I know that not everyone will agree with my thoughts. I’ve learned to accept that.

Even when you’re dealing with your own grief, you can be a healer for others. Even though our family has suffered a great loss, by sharing my sister’s story I will be a healer to help others who have gone through a similar experience. I love my career and don’t think of it as a job, but I don’t necessarily feel like I’m changing the world. (Even if I had a shirt in college that said “Changing the world, one design at a time.) Sharing my sister’s story will help me feel like I’m really making a difference in someone’s life.

Pay it forward. Doing good for others makes you feel good. My family and I have received so much support the past few months that I don’t even know where to start to pay it forward. I belong to the Cranford Newcomers Club and they’ve organized a program to “adopt a room” to design a room to help a woman and her baby with leaving an abusive relationship. I received an email two weeks ago asking if they can design this room in my sisters honor. Reading their email brought tears to my eyes. I choose to see the good in the world, to share my sister’s story and to pay it forward.

If you’ve read all of my rambles, thank you. This has been a life changing, eye opening year. Life is precious and so are the people it in.
If you’re interested in helping my niece and nephew, please consider donating to their college fund I’ve set up.

Extra Curricular Activities

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This summer was a busy one: newish baby, going back to work, packing, renovating, moving, unpacking, not sleeping. :) Even so, I forced myself to also do some fun things so I didn’t get burned out. I managed to get to the beach once (yay!) and celebrated two of my best friends getting married. I also explored our new town by taking walks in the local park, joined a local women’s group, started a play group with some lovely women I met after having Cole, and took some cooking classes.

I’m pretty confident in the kitchen but seeing other techniques is fun for me. (A perfectly relaxing day to me is reading design magazines while binge watching The Barefoot Contessa.) Last month I took a pasta making class and an Italian sauce making class and learned so much. I just have to find my kitchenaid mixer in the pile of boxes in the basement and buy this attachment and I’ll be making my own pasta in no time!

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Here is a delicious and fresh tomato sauce recipe we learned:

Prep time: 15 minuets
Cooking time: 75 minutes

Ingredients:

  • Can whole peeled italian plum tomatoes (2 p0unds)
  • 1 medium yellow onion, sliced
  • 4 table spoons olive oil (not EVOO. I just realized I love this taste so much better)
  • salt
  • pepper
  • 1 tsp sugar
  • 4 fresh bay leaves
  • fresh basil

 

Intructions:

Warm the olive oil and add bay leaves. Add the sliced onions and cook for 10 minutes on medium heat. Bring the onion to caramel color then add the tomato, sugar, and simmer for 60 minutes. For best results cook at least 60 minutes. Let the sauce cool for 20 minutes and blend the sauce in a blender or run through food mill. Ass salt and fresh chopped basil and refrigerate for 24 hours. Enjoy!

Did you know there’s a difference between tomato and marinara sauce? The base of tomato sauce is sauteed onions, where marinara sauce is a based of sauteed garlic. Interesting, right?

Settling

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When I was pregnant, people would always tell me how quickly time would go by once you have a baby. Maybe it was the hormones, or maybe I was a cynic, but those people seriously annoyed me. Now that I have a toothless, bald baby I now understand what they were talking about. Cole is now five months old and the time has flown by. Each week inspires new changes and milestones that are so much fun for Ryan and me to witness. I could talk about that boy for hours, but I won’t bore you. :) I mention this because you may have noticed that I took some time off from blogging. I didn’t do this intentionally but life kind of got in the way. We closed on our house in late-June and spent all of our spare time renovating our house and spending time with Cole. I didn’t want to miss out on his infancy by committing to too many other tasks.

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(Our moving announcement!) :)

We’ve been living in our new house for about a month and we are finally starting to feel settled. We still need to hang some art and the window treatments, but other than that it’s starting to feel like our new home. Life is starting to feel more normal and we’re finally starting to get into a schedule (until Cole decides to change things up). I’m excited to start spend more time blogging. I’m working on a lot of really fun and different projects that I’m excited to share with you soon! For now I’ll share with you what we’re personally working on now…

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Plans for our landscaping.

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“During” pictures while the gigantic tree was being removed from the left side of the house. Oh, and my handsome husband. :)

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We had the trees removed before we moved in because they were old, gigantic, too close to the house and causing the roof to grow moss. I literally cried when I first saw the house because it looked so naked. A little dramatic, I know. The front is growing on me now and it’s nice that you can actually see the house. (Check out the before here.) I’m excited to get plants in to complete the look!

Above is a photoshopped picture of what we’re looking to accomplish with the landscaping. We’ve already painted the door and railings black, added a new black mailbox and added new black shutters. We’re working with a landscape architect that I used to work with years ago and he’s helping us come up with a design that is colorful, textured and low maintenance. He seemed surprised by my two criteria: no holly bushes with poisonous berries and it needs to be hearty so it will survive digging and soccer balls. I know what little boys are capable of and it’s very possible that he’ll eventually eat the dirt or berries. I’m sure he’ll also eventually take tonka trucks to our garden. I’m one step ahead of him!

We finalized the design last night so now we have to start the prep work. Ah, the dreaded prep work.

 

School Projects

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Now that we’re moving, it’s forcing us to purge everything that we don’t need. This isn’t that hard for me since I usually reorganize my stuff every season, but usually Ryan isn’t so willing to part with things “we may eventually need”. He’s an old lady trapped in a 31-year-old man’s body.

Last night I threw out my design school projects since they were taking up a lot of room in the attic and I don’t have a need for them. In design school, each project had about 5-10 design boards and took about 40+ hours so it was a bit sad to get rid of them. I took pictures to remember them and thought I’d share with you. :)

 

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