My neighbors, all of them wonderful friends, had been in over-the-top decorating mode for a week straight. Countless times, they went in and out of the home of my next-door neighbor and close friend, Paula Teed, who was hosting our first Just Cate book launch that night. Paula had been planning our party in her head for about two years.

“I’m truly blessed to be a small part of this whole experience,” Paula told me earlier. “Such fun!”

“Okay, yeah. But do you realize all of Simsbury is coming?”

I was racing all day, doing last minute errands, buying thank-you gifts—glad to be behind as usual to keep my mind off the evening ahead. It was almost 6 p.m. and the party was about to start when I threw on my dress and Ange, who’s never late, arrived looking more than a little stressed.

“Do you have a white shirt I can borrow? The one I ordered yesterday for overnight delivery didn’t come.”

“All I can say is I’ve taught you well. We’ll find something.”

Ange and I walked out of the house to find cars were already starting to line the street. I took her hand and we made our surreal walk to Paula’s house, all our years of living and writing Just Cate bringing us to this moment. I found the same emotions surfacing as my wedding day walk down the aisle to meet Tim. It feels like I’m about to do something crazy.

“Can you believe this?” I asked Ange, squeezing her hand.

“Yes and no. This is what we’ve been working for, but holy cow!”

“I know. Are all these people really here for us?”

We made our way into the embrace of hostesses with lemon belts, taking seats behind a signing table, next to an array of robes. As Ange and I were sitting next to each other signing books, memories began to play in the back of my mind of the two of us teaching art side-by-side when we were in eighth grade at St. Mary’s School. How we’d stop at the library for the big art book, gather the cart with supplies, and wheel it down to Mrs. McKeegan’s second grade class. And now here we are.

The signing line, which stretched the length of the room, held the most incredible people in my life—in Cate’s life—one batch after the next standing in front of Ange and me. For more than three hours, we hugged and thanked them, signing book after book. I’ve been given so much in these people and they’ll never know.

Warm and fuzzy thoughts aside, the night was not without it’s share of laughter and chaos. After every book I signed, I immediately handed it back to it’s owner without first giving it to Ange. She grabbed one book after the next out of my outstretched hand, with a wide smile saying, “It’s not all about you, Noelle.”

Not to be outdone, there was my daughter, Cate, with her satellite headphones, watching movies on an iPad, stealing lemons, signing her name four times in every book, and trucking off for home before the party was over. I, on the other hand, closed out the party. At the end of the evening, I stood up on a barstool, lifted my lemon drop martini high in the air, and gave a toast to my peeps.

But to understand that story, you’ll have to read, Just Cate.

xo

Noelle (& Ange, who is always by my side)

P.S. Photos for this post, courtesy of Paula Teed.

“Thanks for being my friend,” I emailed Noelle, grateful for our talk yesterday about my son’s back injury.

“You’re the silliest thing,” she immediately replied.

“When will I not take everything to heart?”

“Probably never, but that’s why I love you.”

“XO,” I typed in capital letters, smiling with the thought of how well she knows me. I saw our Just Cate trailer was still open on my screen and clicked play instead of the word document I should have been working on. This was probably the third time I’d seen the trailer this morning. I found that I couldn’t stop watching it—the images pouring over all the years, everything we’ve shared, our voices weaving one after the other.

As I watched, I remembered the first phone call with our video producers, Matt and Melissa, friends of a friend, who read our original blog entries and came to believe in Just Cate as much as we did. “We’d like to tell your story,” they told us.

We’ll probably always be in awe of everything that went into the production of the trailer. Digging through attics and closets to find photographs and mementos from growing up: yearbooks, diplomas, journals, cheerleading jackets, Barbie dolls, prom dresses, and christening gowns. There was the day of filming at Noelle’s house when Matt and his camera crew came up from New York City.

“Did you expect this?” Noelle asked me in a whisper. “That’s a television camera. I thought they were going to take a few snapshots.”

Soon after, we met Matt at a New York City recording studio to tape the voice-over, Noelle and I reading from scripts we wrote, peeking at each other from behind huge microphones in a soundproof room.

“What are we doing?” I silently mouthed to Noelle.

“I know—crazy!” she mouthed back.

More than anything, the Just Cate trailer is for you, our readers. To encourage you to remember your own childhoods: the family, the friendships, the faith traditions—all the simple things that matter most. It’s our hope to reach out to you, to every woman. To celebrate being there for each other as only women can. We’d love for you to share the Just Cate trailer with an old friend or a new one, and for your friend to do the same—each of us connecting to the next in the powerful bonds of women friendship.

xo,

Angela (& Noelle—who is always by my side)

All three of my girls couldn’t wait to see the Katy Perry concert when her tour stopped in Connecticut at the end of November. I was excited for them to go, remembering my first concert: Shaun Cassidy at the Nassau Coliseum in New York. I was in 6th grade and went with four of my friends (Ange wasn’t allowed to go). I screamed at the top of my lungs and sobbed when I saw Shaun jump out of a white paper screen on stage, thinking the whole time he was looking directly at me. Ahhhh, to be young.

We arranged to go with Cate’s best friend, Syd, and her family. When deciding who was sitting in what seats (some were better than others), the only thing Cate cared about was that she was sitting next to me. The proximity to the stage didn’t matter to her at all. In fact, she still insists on sitting next to me at dinner every night, which makes her sisters crazy. At the same time, Cate was as enthusiastic as everyone about going—one in a recent string of realizations for me since Cate started high school that she’s really growing up. Teetering on the edge of fourteen and fifteen, undoubtedly a typical teen in many ways, but in the same breath, she’s not.

Ange and I have talked through the ups and downs of Cate’s growing pains over the years. In the beginning I would look to her for answers, “Do you think it’s a stage or a phase, Ange?” But now it’s more for assurances. “She’ll get past this, right?” I think the answers come more easily for Ange, too.
“Remember the last time, Noelle? She’ll get there.”

Unfortunately, Cate lost steam before Katy Perry even came on stage. I hadn’t factored in the opening act, and then the “next” opening act, so it was about an hour and a half after the concert started that Katy Perry appeared on stage singing her opening tune. Cate was ready to leave, saying, “S’mom, s’I’m tired,” not caring at all that we’d miss the very reason we came, to see Katy Perry perform. What mattered to Cate at that point was that she was tired and wanted to go to bed. Her sisters began berating her, wanting her to stay. The banter back and forth between them can be exasperating, but in many ways I also love it. They’re just being sisters. But, no matter, Cate held her ground and she and I left.

And that’s the wonderful thing about Cate—she’s always herself, she always does what she wants. Finding her way on her terms through the stages of life. And for now, it means she still needs to be by my side at times. Just as it should be.

Is your son or daughter on the cusp of something new?

xo,
Noelle

Noelle and I took the kids to New York City a few months ago, to escape the aftermath of Storm Albert. The rare late October snowstorm left us without power, heat, the Internet—and our sanity—for more than a week. At first I was hesitant to go because Noelle had to work and I don’t know the city as well as she does.

“Aw, c’mon, Ange, it’ll be fun. And I’ll be done by one.”

“Really? But what will I do with the boys? They’re not big shoppers and probably don’t want to go to a museum on a day off.”

“You’re a lunatic—it’s New York. You’ll find something to do.”

I decided to take Noelle’s spontaneous lead as I have for years—to enjoy the unexpected gift of time with my kids. We all went our separate ways: Noelle to her midtown office (where she ended up all day); Cate to her Uncle James’ office; Noelle’s oldest and youngest daughters, Caroline and Claire, and their friends (including Cate’s best friend, Syd), to Greenwich Village; and me and my boys to Little Italy to prove my point that homemade fettuccini alfredo tastes a heck of a lot better than the stuff they make from a box for a daily snack.

After lunch, the boys and I met up with Noelle’s girls and their friends in Chinatown and spent the rest of the day together, eventually hooking up with Cate and Noelle at Grand Central Station to grab take-out for dinner and catch the train home.

“We basically walked around and ate all day,” I told Noelle when we sat down next to each other on the Metro North train, finding a few seats for us all to be together.

“How fun. That’s all we ever do, too.”

“I have to say it’s been ages since I’ve been around a bunch of teenage girls.”

“Different than boys, huh?”

“My gosh, yes—the non-stop talking, the window-shopping, the threading arms together while walking down the street. I loved it. And my boys were amused, following behind enjoying every minute, but finally ditched into an Adidas store in Soho for soccer gear.”

Noelle and I talked for a while longer, when I motioned with my head to Syd and Cate. “It could be you and me thirty years ago,” I said watching the two of them together, Cate saying something funny and Syd throwing back her head with laughter.

“Yeah, small Syd with her curly brown hair and big heart. She’s just like you.”

“And look at Cate, so social, and keeping things lively just like you.”

Have you stolen a day for some impromptu fun with friends lately?

xo,
Angela

While it’s true that Cate keeps us guessing and laughing, more than anything she’s taught us to pay attention. To see what otherwise might have passed us by. Our blog, newly titled, Simply What Matters Most, is a toast to being present in the moment and letting the powerful gifts of motherhood, women friendship, family, faith, hope, humor, and unconditional love shine through.

We dedicate this site to Cate, to the incredibly gifted, compassionate people who helped bring it to life, and to you, our readers, for walking with us. We encourage you to join the dialogue with your comments, because our story is one we share. A messy, funny, sometimes hard, hardly perfect journey to joyfully live life as it is. One day at a time—and some days, one hour at a time. And to be there for each other as friends every step of the way.

We’ll take turns writing blog entries, weaving one voice after the next (Noelle’s voice, then Angela’s voice), much the same way we do in our dual memoir, Just Cate. We’ll be sure to include plenty of Cate’s latest escapades, as well as invite guest bloggers—family, friends, and Cate—to join the conversation.

To get things started, what simply matters most to you?

xo,
Noelle & Angela

I followed behind my family into the church pew Tuesday night to hear the Christmas concert our choir performs every year. It’s really quite something, as the music director at our parish is also the producer of a Broadway show during the week. He always brings someone from the city to perform solos and duets with our cantor, who is also incredibly talented.

We arrived early to get a seat, as did most people.  In front of us were an older woman and her husband in their early 70s I’d say.  She was lovely, stylish and tall, and stood turned toward the back of church, waiting for someone to arrive.  All at once, her arms started waving in the air and in an instant a couple their age approached, the two women throwing their arms around each other, the men shaking hands.  The women friends smiled, and laughed and talked, as they took their seats, and continued this way until the concert began.

I couldn’t help but project this scene on my own life, thinking of Noelle and me in another 30 years.  “You are going to dye those curls, you know,” I heard Noelle say in my imaginings as the lights dimmed.  And as our music director launched into a solo performance on the organ, I was warmed with thoughts of forever friendship.

xo,

Angela

Cate loves birthdays, even when we’re not celebrating hers.  She starts planning the events at least a couple of weeks before the actual day—and the events, almost always, revolve around what she loves to do.

It was my birthday this past weekend and she was on fire with scheduling the day.  Here was her to-do list: wake up and show me her tattoo, “Cate loves Mom;” then go to her basketball game; then get a bacon, egg and cheese on an everything bagel at her favorite bagel place; then take Mabel to the dog park; then go out to lunch; then go to the movies to see Tangled because “S’Mom, you love that show;” then go out to dinner; then go home for cake; then watch a show together.

While we didn’t quite get to everything on Cate’s list, wherever we went, she told every single stranger, as well as those she knew, that it was my birthday, resulting in many “happy birthdays” from people.  I found myself in such a good mood on Saturday.  Her excitement was contagious.  And that’s the gift of Cate.  What’s your child’s gift to you?

xo,

Noelle

The ones I hold dear: Rob, Ryan, and John

I talked on the phone Monday night with my next-door neighbor, Cathleen, to hear that her Dad’s heart procedure went well, that he didn’t need an angioplasty, and who at 80-years old and in his words is, “good for another 100,000 miles.”  In hanging up the phone, I was again reminded to stop and embrace my blessings at this time of year when we’re burdened with checking off many gift lists.  When so many are struggling with worries greater than we could possibly imagine. 

And maybe this is true of you and your family right now. 

To you, Noelle and I send our prayers, and to the rest we offer this kernel of wisdom: “Live without regrets.”  A mantra Noelle’s father was famous for saying and one we repeat often.  It grounds us and cuts right to the heart of how we should spend our time, especially during the holidays.  Not in seeking the perfect wrap-able present, which doesn’t exist.  But giving one from the heart: the gift of time together, of saying I love you, even when it’s hard.  Of holding close the ones who matter most.

xo,

Angela

I often get overwhelmed by my to do list at this time of year, a list that grows ten fold each day. Every day life is too busy, and then you add all the extras and, well, it’s just over the top.  So, instead of tackling the to do list this past Friday, I decided to bag it altogether and pull Cate and Claire out of school and do a New York City day.  I wish I could have taken Caroline, too, but because of her high school classes and sports, she can no longer play hookie with us.

We met my mom and took the train down to the city to see the Christmas tree at Rockefeller Center, the window displays and decorations along Fifth Avenue, and pay way too much money at a hotel bar for two glasses of wine, two orange juices and an order of fries.  Okay, guess how much.  Can you believe $70?  I know, completely insane!  What can I say except the orange juice was definitely fresh squeezed and Cate and Claire say the chardonnay was nice and crisp—kidding!

Very honestly, these are the memories I want my kids to have, not memories of their mom being a complete crab cake at Christmas, but memories of laughter, fun and happy times.  What are your plans for a little unexpected family fun this year?

xo,

Noelle

I was listening to Gary Craig’s morning show on our local radio station, WTIC-FM, early Monday morning.  He was talking about “We Are The Children,” a charity he founded 25 years ago that gives gifts to local children in need during the December holidays.  He and his on-air crew then made a telephone call to a woman about her young son with cerebral palsy.  She was caught off-guard as he asked about her son and she replied, “He’s the light of our lives,” and went on to explain how he struggles with his fine and large motor skills.  How she’s been working with her insurance company to purchase a special tricycle that would help him—a tricycle too expensive for her family to buy on its own.  Gary Craig then told her that We Are The Children was going to buy her son this tricycle. 

“Because that’s what Christmas is all about,” he said. 

And how right he is.  Christmas isn’t simply about this tremendous gift that only money could buy, but the intangible ones Noelle and I often talk about: the gift of peace of mind, of genuine kindness, of giving because you want to.

How are you going to recapture the essence of the holidays this year? 

xo

Angela