life & family

Because We Always Need Our Mom

Flower pops with mom

Even though my mom had planned on coming up for a visit next weekend, since I’ve been having such a rough time lately, she dropped everything and drove up this weekend to spend time with me. And I needed it so much. There’s something really reassuring about knowing someone will literally change all their plans just to come be with you in a time of need. And as strong as I try to act so often, at 37 years old, it’s clear that I still need my mom.

It was so nice having her here for a few days to not only distract me from my anxiety and to force me out of my head, but to have someone to hang out with who knows me inside and out and who won’t judge me for who I am. And on top of it all, remind me that who I am, the good and the bad, are both okay to be. And I think when she was here I realized just how much I miss my family and friends {far more than I may have acknowledged} and that I probably feel pretty alone up here in the mountains and should probably make more of an effort to leave them every once in a while.

Really, it’s not like me to admit such things, but it’s so true. As much as living in Los Angeles made me a bit miserable, everyone I know and love are there and I probably took it for granted at times how truly close we all were. Still, now, only about an hour and a half away, it feels like a million miles.

But my mom came and saved me from myself for a few days this weekend and we had so much fun that I miss her already and she’s only been gone a few hours.

Since we moved up here at the beginning of winter, one of the things I was really looking forward to doing once summer came around was exploring this new land we are in. While it’s not that big, there are so many little nooks and crannies that we are unaware of and I just wanted to really get a feel for it. But summer has now come and gone and the leaves are changing and I’m sitting here in a big sweater again because it’s freezing in the house and I realized I still hadn’t explored the mountain and it will be snowing again soon.

So yesterday my mom and I made it our goal for the day to just drive and take it all in and maybe stop at a few thrift and consignment shops along the way. And though it seems we still missed a whole chunk of an area on this mountain top, we spent much of the day doing just that, driving and chatting and having a really great time.

We stopped at the Tavern Bay beach Club at the UCLA Conference Center and chatted on the sand while looking out onto the lake then hopped back in the car for a drive through what felt like a mountain road that would never end, but instead found dirt bike trails and camping parks I didn’t even know existed. We circled back around and ended up in Blue Jay, a town we frequent then decided to explore Twin Peaks, but on the way stopped in Agua Fria at a thrift shop and found this amazing antique wing back chair, which according to my mom, looked like it had been reupholstered in the 1960s in an icy blue Naugahyde with a faint print – for $80, in near PERFECT condition.

Vintage Wing Back Chair

Just as soon as I decide to have my grandma’s antique furniture reupholstered for my office sitting area, I find this perfect chair. I plan on gold-leafing the legs and can’t wait to see how it turns out!

However, the little thrift shop only took cash and it happened to be one of the days that I didn’t have more than a $20 on me. So we hopped back in the car to go to the best grocery store up here, Jensens, to pull cash out of the ATM and as I was about to walk out with my cash, I spotted this amazing plant in the corner that looked like a Fiddle Leaf Fig Tree and had to investigate. The tag on it said Lyrata Ficus but commonly known as the fiddle-leaf fig! I couldn’t believe I found the tree I was looking for at the local grocery store! And though I did like the height and structural appearance and even faded color of my eucalyptus tree, it sadly did not make it in the house and so this corner has been empty for about a month now.

Fiddle Leaf Fig Tree

I think I’ll hide a platform within the basket so the tree sits a bit taller, and I’d like it to grow a bit taller as well to fill the space, but it’s larger than it looks here in the photo and I’m thinking about getting a second one for the other side of the room as well, behind the chair. But if I hadn’t needed to grab some cash from the ATM, I wouldn’t have gone in to find the tree. Why didn’t I just check there before, you ask? I hadn’t thought about it and it’s not the market we frequent because it’s the further of the two we go to, and three, because the husband usually does the grocery shopping.

We ended the day watching the Emmys in my office while my husband and his uncle Bill {who’s up here doing more work on our house} watched the end of the football game in the living room, then all joined to sit by the fire later in the night.

When I started this blog, back in 2007, my mom and I were not on good terms. It was a strange time and completely uncomfortable and probably all my fault. But since then we have built a stronger relationship than ever. Back home I had a weekly ritual of visiting with her every Friday evening and just hanging out and chatting and spending time at her house, where she’d always stock m&m’s for me to keep me coming back. But it wasn’t the m&m’s I was going for, it was for her. And I never imagined how being so far away from her and my family would sadden me as much as it has. But I guess that’s why we all stayed so close to each other for so long in the first place.

She’s still coming up this coming weekend for a visit, and I can’t wait to see her again.


Maegan Tintari

LA native & lifestyle blogger Maegan Tintari writes daily at sharing beauty & style secrets, including fashion DIYs, how-to nail art manicures, hair tutorials, recipes & home decorating ideas, as well as a look into her personal life, her journey & battle with infertility & recent relocation to the mountains by a lake in search of a better life with her adorable French Bulldog brothers, Trevor and Randy.

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