Silly & Ridiculous

I painted this saying on a door in our living room.  

It very much suits this girl of mine.  

This girl, who today, turns eight.

She was three days old when we left the hospital.

And no one believed us that she was smiling that day.

However, she never quit.  She has smiled everyday since that third day of life.

She's an early riser.  A happy, joyful girl.

Sugar is silly.  And strong.  And serious.

This girl of mine is quirky.  Oh so quirky.

She loves to play outside, watch tv, be with her daddy, take long baths, go for trips, 

be with her daddy, go running, play with bugs, go to the park, eat, and did I mention she loves to be with her daddy?

She doesn't like school or green bell peppers.  Nor does she like chocolate chips in her pancakes.

For the last three years she has told me she wants to be a veterinarian when she grows up.  This doesn't surprise me.  She loves animals, is passionate about animals.  Yet strong when it's their time to go.  She's just so matter of fact about everything.

This morning when she woke up she came and snuggled with me and I told her the story about finding out she was coming into my life.  Our lives.

It's not easy to tell your girl of only eight years old how she saved you.  I tried, in ways she'd understand, to explain how much I needed her in that moment eight years and nine months ago.  If not for finding out I was going to be a mama, my life was on course to come crashing around me.

I needed this girl.

I don't deserve her.

God, I don't deserve her.

But I am so thankful.

Happy Birthday, sweet girl.  Your mama sure loves you.

Thank you for being all sorts of silly and ridiculous.

there's a lot of fun in puddles

I have always been a huge fan of the rain.

Several years ago my friend Keri and I were driving our cars from Yakima to home on the freeway when there was this crazy downpour.  She pulled off the side of the road, me right behind her.  We got out of our cars and just stood in the downpour.

A couple nights ago the rain just started coming down here.  Josh, the girls, and I went outside in the pouring rain.  We watched the lightning and listened to the thunder and we came in absolutely drenched.

Rain is such a good time.

But the fun doesn't end when the rain stops.

It's just the beginning.

Rain provides puddles.  And puddles are too fun to resist.  There's just no point in trying.

On my bike ride last night I saw that there were a lot of puddles along the pathway.  I prayed they would still be around today so I could take the girls on a walk and play in them.

I asked the girls to put their rain boots on and of course they want to know why, where we going, who's coming with us, are we having snacks?  Can we not just put on boots without 20 questions?  Apparently not.

And so we walked and Sugar saw a puddle and I told her to run through it.

"Really!?"  Her big blue eyes grew even bigger.  She smiled and showed off what teeth she has left.  And off she went.  Little sister was more cautious.  And it took time but toward the end of our walk, she got in on the fun, too.

You didn't think I'd miss out on the fun, did you?  I had my rain boots on too.  They double as my snow boots in the winter.

I loved watching the girls play.  So carefree.  And just loving the mess.  Made this mama heart smile.

Housekeeping....want me fluff your peelow?

You have seen Tommy Boy, right?

Okay, good.  We were almost not friends anymore.

Yesterday after I blogged, I decided to play around with my design and font and such as South Africa.

You have seen the Miss South Carolina video, right?  Such as South Africa will not make sense if you haven't.  Please head over to YouTube, stat.  And watch it.  Poor her.

Anyway, whilst playing around with my blog, I added a little dealio to the sidebar so you can get my posts in your email.  I know I get super annoyed when I got to blogs day in and day out and nothing is new.  This way, you can come here if you'd like, but if you want, you can sign up and you'll get an email with any new blog post I decide to write.

I have a few that come to my email and it's kind of a cool deal.  Anyway, just letting you know it's on the left hand side of your screen.

You're welcome.

she talked me through my crazy. and i feel joy. with just a side of crazy now.

After months and months of wanting to and more importantly needing to, I went back to counseling today.

It's been a long road to get to this point of making the phone call and asking my counselor to meet with me.  I called her a few weeks ago, let it ring once and hung up.  And then I cried.  I've known I need to be there. I've known I need someone to talk to.

I have a husband and two best friends and I talk to each of them about different things but I don't talk to any of them about everything.

I've shut down and I've shut out.

I've internalized a whole lot.  And that's not like me.

The last couple of weeks have been hard.  HARD.  Like, if not for these kids, I wouldn't get out of bed.  Like, I hardly speak to my husband because I've found myself resenting him.  Like, I'm gone from home quite a bit during the day because I feel like I'm failing while I'm here.  Like, the other night I looked at the Tylenol PM bottle and wondered just how many I needed so I could just keep sleeping.

I've been nearing the point of combustion.

So Wednesday I call and I leave a message for my counselor asking if she'll pretty pretty please with sugar on top meet with me.  And she calls back within a couple of hours and I'm expecting to not be seen for a few weeks but no.  No, she has an appointment in two days.  And would that work for me?

Yes, yes it would.  I think I can keep it together a couple more days.

For the most part this has been one of my best weeks in a long time.  My friend Trevor is partly to thank, and a very long overdue conversation with the husband is as well.  I have been feeling healthy.  Restored.

Renewed.

And then BAM!  I'll get hit with some bad news or someone says the wrong thing or I remember something I didn't do or something I did do and I'm thrown for a loop all over again.

This week I have been trying my damnedest to find my joy again.  And the enemy.  Oh he's here to destroy me.

About a month ago my friend Katie suggested buying and reading the devotional Jesus Calling by Sarah Young.  And so I did.  I bought it.  A month ago.  And have I opened it?  Not until a few days ago.  And when I did?!  "Do not let fear dissipate your energy."  "The battle for control of your mind is fierce, and years of worry have made you vulnerable to the enemy."  "You are not alone in this struggle for your mind."

Are you freaking kidding me?

I was kinda dumbfounded.  These were words I needed.  Absolutely needed.

The mind is a battlefield.  Mine is constantly at war.  And I'm tired.  Oh so tired.  For the first time in a long time I prayed for myself.  I asked God to fight for this mind of mine.  To win the battle for me because I'm just so tired of fighting.

I'm so tired.

Monday was a good day.  Then I decided it's high time this fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants family needs to get on a schedule.  A fairly tight schedule.  So I write it out, not once or twice or even three times but four because I have to.  The first one is the rough draft and the second one needs some tweaking and the third one I messed up and needed to cross something off.  The fourth one will probably become five.

Anyway.

So there's this schedule that I started and later Josh and I were talking and he says, "I think we should have a schedule."  And I laughed.  Monday through Thursday we will stick to this schedule the best we can and Friday-Sunday will be much more relaxed.

Back to today.  To the counseling day.

Amber asked yesterday if I was scared.  I wasn't.  Til I pulled up and then the nerves hit.  What was I even there for?  What did I think she was going to solve for me?

I walk in and the place is still the same.  Calm.  Serene.  Welcoming.

And she opens the door and she smiles and I just love her and know it's good I'm here.

She sits in her chair and she has her mostly consumed, watery coffee drink in her hand. "So what brings you here, Sarah?"

I'm still wearing my purse and my legs are crossed and my hands are between my knees and my shoulders are slumped.

I raise my head and I look at her.

"I don't know how to do it.  I just don't know how."

She waits for me to continue.

"I don't know how to be a wife and mama.  At least not a good wife or mama.  I just want to know how.  I want to know what's expected.  What it's supposed to look like.  I want to know if I'm doing anything right because I sure know I'm doing plenty wrong."

It might have all been said in one breath even.  And just getting it out.  Just voicing my concern, my fear, a weight was lifted.

She smiles.

"You always have been too hard on yourself, haven't you, Sarah?"

And I know I have been.  But being too hard on myself doesn't mean it makes me try harder.  It means I feel defeated.  It means that since I know I can't do it all, I do nothing.  And then the guilt.

Oh, the guilt.

And that's when the sleeping pills are enticing.

My too high of expectations get me absolutely nowhere but down.  But I don't know where the middle ground is.  I don't know what this mothering, wifeliness, homemakerness is supposed to look like.  So for 15 years of marriage and eight years of mothering I've muddled through.

I've lived my days waiting for bedtime.

Whether bedtime for the kids or bedtime for me.  I just wanna make it to bedtime.

So I make it to bedtime and oft times I will lie awake and I will think of everything I did wrong in my day.  Or the day before.  The month or year or decade before.  And I will be ill.  And I will cry and cry and there's nothing that can be done to change what I did.  Or, what I didn't do.

That's where I feel I've failed the most.  In what I haven't done as a wife and mama that I should have.  So I ache.  I ache that I can't hold my babies more or read to them more or play with them more or kiss an owie instead of saying, "you're fine, don't cry."  I ache that I didn't interact enough, engage enough.

slumped shoulders.

heavy sigh.

even heavier heart.

"What do you feel is your biggest issue with the girls?"

And I told her that I feel I just don't connect well with them.  I'm terrible at spending play time with them.  I hate to play.  I like to do random, stupid stuff like the other day - Oh, the sprinklers are on at the bank?  Let's pull over and run through them and jump back in the car and race away.

But please, I beg you, children, do not ask me to play make-believe with you.

I talk and she listens.  She talks and I listen.

I tell her about my girls.  Their love languages.  I tell her that for five years (Spice's lifetime) that I have felt Sugar has been in the shadow.  Her sweet, baby sister has been quite demanding since birth.  Heck, since the womb.  And poor Sugar has taken a back burner to attention, affection, all of it.

My heart hurts typing that out.  It hurt earlier saying it aloud.

But sometimes the truth just hurts.

She gives me suggestions, ways to spend time with my girls.  "20 minutes.  Start with 20 minutes of one on one time with each girl.  Just that will put you ahead of most families out there."  Apparently I'm not the only one who has this problem?  Others do too?!

After talking over ways I could spend one on one time with them I felt a little better.  But then choked up.

"I know what to do from here, but how...how do I let go..." and I can feel the ugly cry making its way.
"How do I let go of the guilt from all the years I haven't been doing it right?"

She asks if I've ever heard of the devotional Jesus Calling.  I smile and tell her yes, that I just started it.  Just a couple of days ago in fact.  This book must be great, for Katie to recommend it, for my counselor to recommend it, for me to be reading it right now when God wants me to be.  I don't think it's a coincidence that I just started to read it or that both of them recommended it.

(maybe you should get it, too?)

There's nothing I can do about the past.  It's forgiven already.  I can't go back.  I need to stop holding onto it.  It's time to move forward.  It's time to get intentional.

"Sarah, I'm going to suggest something that I know will probably be difficult for you.  But I think it'd be really good for your family to get on a schedule."

And I just laugh.

Because she has no idea I just decided my family needed one.  That I've written one out.  I tell her why I'm laughing.  I know that God is affirming these choices I've been making in the last week.  And it feels good to finally be doing something right.

This schedule.  Scheduling in family time.  Scheduling in down time (I've wondered if my choosing to have a Quiet Time during the day is selfish but she was pretty adamant that no, it's not, that it is good for all involved to have a quiet time during the day).  And scheduling in some Sarah Refuel Time.  Like my gym time.

I can feel it's nearing the end of my session and I've been so encouraged during my time there, I feel equipped.  I feel ready.  But now I have to leave the office and actually implement these tasks and I can feel myself start to panic.

"There are going to be days where you mess up the schedule.  Where you didn't get time in with the kids.  But there's tomorrow."

sigh of relief.

I left the office and I felt like I could breathe.  I feel joy and I feel hope.  These are wonderful feelings when you've been feeling so dark and lonely and all strangled up inside.  The joy.  The joy feels the best in this moment.  Because like Ann Voskamp says in this post:

"If you don't fight for joy, it's your children who lose."

I'm fighting.  I'm fighting for joy.  For these girls of mine.

For this life of mine.

One acre in bits and pieces

I'm a big picture kinda girl.

I wanna see what it's all gonna look like when it's done.

I want nothing in stages.  I want all of it.

But then I get overwhelmed thinking of what it takes to get everything done.  So I do nothing at all.

Probably one of the biggest things (on a long list) about myself that I don't like.

I'm trying to change this about myself.  It started last year with a cycling trip I took (and never wrote about) and now I'm working on my one acre of property.  It's a pretty big mess.  Weeds.  Dirt.  More weeds.  A few cars.  Ugh.

I know what I want it to look like.  Neat and tidy and welcoming and home.

It'll probably take me years.  I'm slow.  I'm poor.  I'm not very strong.  I don't have the right equipment for the jobs.

But I started a couple of weeks ago with one area.  And I'm going to freaking work that one area until it is done and until I love it.  It may take all summer but I will not get ADD and move onto the next area of my property until this one section is finished - dammit!

(sorry...)

(not sorry...)

I really should wear jeans when using this.

Quite a few years ago we bought these cute little blocks to put down the north side of the house.  We bought like $40 worth and never bought any more.  For about four years they've looked like this.  Sigh.

I took them out (with the help of my sister) and we dug out sod and made a straight line down the house.  I'm going to lay railroad ties as the edge and plant flowers and bushes and ground cover.  And I will NOT move on to another area until this area is done.  It's about 40 feet long and maybe 3-4 feet wide.

My goal is to have this spot done by the end of June.

We'll see...