pieces of who i am

At age 14 I met a new best friend. She didn't like pink. So I pretended I didn't like pink either.

I've tried many times but I don't think I'll ever be able to drink a cup of coffee black. Must.have.creamer! {and a green straw, with some hazelnut and half and half with a barista would be fab!}

I'm in my third week of homeschooling and, dare I say it, I'm enjoying myself.

I chipped a top front tooth on a wheel barrow I was riding in when I was 9. It was full of horse manure.

I have a writing bump on the ring finger of my left hand.

I have long(ish) hair. I prefer my hair short but I want to make my husband happy.

If you asked, I'd tell you I don't like brussel sprouts. The truth? I've never had them.

Pieces.

I was an unimaginative child.

I didn't go outside playing make-believe, at least not much. I preferred books to toys. Allowing myself to escape my own world and enter the world and the lives of those I was reading about was {and remains} something I enjoyed.

I made my first friend at age five, quickly learning that any friendships I made would last only that school year. It's as long as I stayed in most schools and sometimes we didn't stay that long.

Life is unfair, life is hard. Cruel and ugly things happen to children. It wouldn't be until I was an adult that I quit thinking of it as unfair and see it more as a way to help others. And, a way to empathize with someone.

Going through hard stuff as a kid prepares you for the real world.


Pieces.

In Junior High I was awkward and lonely. Embarrassed that my mom was a bartender and that we had lived in a fifth wheel camp trailer. Now I'm proud as hell {pardon} of her for having a job that kept us fed and off the streets.

High school meant a new school. A new(ish) town. Familiar faces, though. Too bad awkward couldn't have stayed in Junior High. As awkward as I was I made new friends, glanced at some old. For the first time in my 14 years, I felt carefree. Much of that feeling was because I'd just found Jesus.

Not that life was without its hardships and, of course, heartache. It seemed I thought my happiness rested in the hands of this boy or that boy. I wish I'd respected myself more. And I wish more parents taught their boys to respect girls.

At 16 I saw a guy I knew I'd marry. I didn't know his name. I didn't know where he was from. But I knew I'd marry him.

With no clue how to be a wife, at 18 I became just that.

My friends were going off to college as I tried to figure out what being a wife was all about.

I wasn't successful.

That was the year depression swooped in.

A depression I wasn't fully aware of until a few months ago.


Pieces.

I have a sister four years younger than me. We don't speak.

I wanted a brother when I was little. My dad bought me a boy Cabbage Patch Doll for Christmas the same year I asked for the brother.

I like cheese. Haven't found a cheese yet that I don't like.

My dream date involves a bookstore, coffee, rain and some hand holdin'.

Pieces.

What I know now that I wish I knew when Josh and I first married is that a family doesn't begin when you have kids. A family begins when you say, "I do." I spent so many years waiting to start a family that I missed years of quality one on one time with my husband. I'd beg him for a baby. We hadn't been married long but he already knew me better than I knew myself. He knew I wasn't ready. And, he knew he wasn't ready. Instead of putting forth effort to make every day special with him, I put forth effort in a whole lot of resentment. I wish I could get back that wasted energy.

Another thing I know now that I wish I'd known then?

Being a wife and keeper of the home is not something women are born knowing how to do. It takes time and effort. It takes mistakes and trials. Blood. Sweat. Tears.

None of it is for the faint of heart.

Yes, it comes easier for some women over others, I've seen {and I'm related to} other women who take to the role with a grace about them. I envy them. I admit it. Yet I'm proud of where I am on my journey through my life as wife and mother. As keeper of my home. I've been working hard these last five years and yes, I could be doing better, but...but, I know I've done a lot worse so I am choosing to be proud of where I am.

Of who I am.

Pieces.

I had two babies without the use of medication in a hospital. If I have a third child we've talked about having the baby at home and again without medication.

Sometimes I wonder why I wonder why I'm crazy. {say that three times fast.}

I love giving birth.

I wasn't so much a fan of the stitches down yonder, though.

Pieces.

I'm a wife and mama. Those are my roles. But as just Sarah? I'm 30 years old. I have frizzy hair and crooked teeth. My nose is too big and I chew my fingernails. I laugh too loud and I talk too much. I crack my knuckles. I weigh 20 lbs more than I'd like to. I have stretch marks on my once flat, toned belly. The belly isn't pretty, but honestly - I love every single stretch mark etched into my skin.

I have two sweet babes to show for those stretch marks. I carried them in my womb. I loved them before I ever felt them move inside me. I talked to them. Prayed for them. Praised God for them. I nursed each of them for a year and have to buy extra support bras because of it.

Stretch marks aren't the only scars on my belly. I have three 1" scars from an appendectomy at age 26. Just a few days later they told me my appendix wasn't all they'd removed. A tumor was removed that day too.

A malignant tumor.

So, back into my guts they went, a week and a half later. Removing half of my colon and leaving a nearly 7" scar in its place. Just a few weeks ago I went in for a routine check up. My doctor asked me to lie back and lift my shirt so he could see my scar. He shook his head. "Well," he says to me, "it's not pretty, but it's strong." Like me, I thought. I told him I loved it. That I didn't care what it looked like. It's a daily reminder to me that I'm alive.

Pieces.

One St. Patrick's Day, many moons ago, I drank too much, ran a stop light and slammed my Mitsubishi Lancer into a Dodge Ram. I could have killed someone. I could have killed someone. Needless to say - but I'll say it anyway - I've never driven after having a drink again.

Not only was I voted "Most Likely to be Seen on Jerry Springer" my Senior year of high school but five years later, while working at Pier 1, I was given an award for, "Most Likely to Provide Comic Relief."

Years after receiving these awards I wonder, "what the heck?!"

Again, pieces.

Books. I love them. Coffee, too. I love the rain, the way it smells, but sunshine feeds my soul and keeps me sane. I love the changing leaves in the Fall but would prefer weather where flip flops could be worn year round.

I love art. I love self expression in the most random ways. For now, mine is through writing on my blog, though someday I'd love it in a hardback book. My dad was an artist and my mom, well, I believe my mom is still figuring out who she is. Having an artist father always had me dreaming I'd one day be an artist too. When I turned 18 I wondered if he'd hire me on as a business partner one day.

At age 19 my dreams drown the day he did. Dreams of being an artist and working along side a man I never really knew, were gone.

I'm terrified - immobilized sometimes - by my fear of failure. To the point I often don't take leaps of faith because I have none in myself. So any thoughts about art are gone.

Pieces.

I'm enjoying my life. Mostly.

I fight my flesh.

My heart wants to do right. Be right. But my flesh cries out. So often I keep it to myself the war that goes on. No one wants to hear it, right? I wouldn't want to send anyone in a panic that the old Sarah is back. She's not. I'm here. And I choose daily to be here. It's a battle. I won't deny that.

I'm just a girl.

A girl who, at 30, has finally found a routine for cleaning house. Who finally is okay inviting friends, family or, heck, strangers over for a meal. I'm finally confident in the way my house looks, how my food tastes and just in who I am as a hostess.


Pieces.

I love my family. Love, love, LOVE my family. The in-laws and the outlaws (my side).

I'm crazy about my friends. Absolutely crazy about them. I think it's because they choose to love me. They don't have to but choose to. The fact that they've chosen to love me blows my mind and I'll be forever thankful.


I love my husband. I without a doubt want to spend my forever with this man. He makes me crazy - drives me mad, makes me laugh, pisses me off, brushes my hair, tells the most ridiculous jokes, has the world's best hands and is the most forgiving man I've ever known. He knows me and loves me.

Everything I've written here is the tip of my iceberg. Merely pieces of who I am, and some pieces I'm definitely not proud of, but still others that I am. As simple - as plain as I am, there's so much more that makes me, me.

While not everyday is a day I'm comfortable in this skin - the days are more and more.

My Living Room As-Is

I don't know why I feel compelled to take a picture of my living room As-Is and post it for you to see.

(click picture to enlarge)

Maybe I'm just proud of the waffle box on the table between the chairs?

Or proud of the laundry basket that's been sitting by the window for days on end?

It might also be that I'm proud of the dog hair. Oh, the dad-gum dog hair!

Maybe the toys strewn about?

The plant on the bottom left that the cat peed (pees) in?

Clean sheets to the right?

Okay, I don't feel compelled to show you my living room As-Is for any other reason than the new bookcases.


And this little buddy on the top shelf.



You might remember him better from this post.

Please pray for Josh

So often he seems indestructible to me.

But today he was hurt on the job.

Pretty bad. I can even hear it in his voice

He's hurt his left arm. We're thankful to Jesus that it wasn't his right arm, he said he wouldn't be able to shift the gears if it were. He can't lift it and can't even let it hang loose completely because it hurts so badly. It's swelling at his tricep and elbow.

Will you pray for healing, please? And will you pray that he'd stop being upset with himself for getting hurt?

Thank you, sweet friends!

TGIF

Dude.

I'm thankful it's Friday. Even if today is a long working day for my husband, at least I know when he gets home tonight we have two days together. (mostly I'm just thankful for an extra pair of hands to help with the girls!) (did I say that out loud?)

This week wasn't easy. Are they ever going to be easy again? Please, Lord. Purty please?

There was one day I didn't get out of bed much. Depression isn't pretty. Neither is the mess the girls made while I laid in bed. But I feel things are looking up.

Girls were in bed pretty close to bedtime a couple of nights this week. That's a start!

School was done. Maybe not well but it was done. Sugar is realizing that every day that Daddy goes to work is a school day. It makes her groan. And makes me laugh. Now that we've cut out History, Science and Geography, school is lasting about 45 minutes. Much better than the 2.5 hours of pulling teeth.

Candee is coming over today. How sad that she lives 20 minutes away and it's been two months since I've seen her?! She's bringing me coffee. I'm supposed to bake. I haven't shopped in weeks, this could be interesting...

Spent time with my mom and sister last night. Oh.my.word. I always leave there with my belly hurtin' from all the laughter. We ate dinner. Watched two movies and had snacks. Um, and we may have wrestled on the floor.

We had plans to go camping this weekend. Not sure we're going. We were offered a night without kids from my amazing friend, Kristie. If we don't go camping.... :)

For the last two nights I've slept. I feel amazing. Like a new person. Like I can accomplish the world! Or at least the laundry.

What are your plans for the weekend?

Anyone need a 2 year old, I seem to have one needing a home.

God gave me children to humble me.

Case in point:

This morning I was getting dressed while Spice (age 2) was in the room.

She points to my belly.

"Ewww, Mama!"

Like I need her to point that out for me. Like I'm not already aware of the stretch marks her and her sister blessed me with. Like I'm not aware of the not so pretty, nearly 7" vertical scar down my belly or the fact that the scar has completely messed up my belly button.

I'm aware, Kid, I'm aware!

Guess she thought I needed a lil reminding.

{big sigh}

Sleep evades me

I haven't been sleeping.

I've been trying to sleep but it just doesn't come.

I lay there.

And lay there.

For nearly two weeks I've been surviving on 3-4 hours of sleep per night. Sadly, the hours are not consecutive. When I finally fall asleep, I usually wake a couple of hours later. I wake in a panic. Thinking about everything I said during the day that may have been dumb. Did I leave a dumb comment on someone's blog? did my email come across the way I intended? what was that phone call about? me? And so on. Then it turns to did I love the girls enough? why did I speak so harshly? why do I expect so much from their little selves? did I smile enough at them? I didn't smile enough at them. I never smile enough at them. Do they even know that I love them?

I think about the laundry that's washed and dried but has been sitting for days and some of it weeks. It's wrinkling. It's taking up space on the couch. I think about the pile of paper on the right side of the fridge that I never seem to get control over. I think about the lawn that's partially mowed. The pasture that's partially mowed. I think about how I'm just not keeping up.

I think about how I haven't menu planned in weeks. Weeks. I've been throwing stuff together. None of it very good. I think about how my husband has been putting in 12+ hours a day at work and 4+ hours in the evening somewhere else and I can't even provide him a decent meal. I think about the money he's been making and how instead of using the extra to pay off debt, I blow it.

I think about how I'm failing.

Last night it took me nearly two hours to fall asleep. Just as I felt myself drifting off, Spice woke up. I got up, plugged her pacifier back in and headed back to bed. It was 1:45 and Josh's alarm was going to go off at 3. I was still awake when his alarm went off. I tried to ignore the fact that he was up but it didn't work. I finally got out of bed to make his sandwiches but then headed right back to bed. He left at nearly four and I kept hearing things, sure that someone was outside our door.

When I did fall asleep I had a dream that I was in a large house with three children and someone was trying to kill us. I was rounding up the children, trying to escape out a two story window. It was awful and scary and I woke up because Spice woke up again. It was 6 am. I'd been asleep for a bit but the dream wore me out so much that I felt even more tired.

Today we won't start school until the afternoon. I need to clean my mother-in-law's house, I need to finish folding the laundry.

I need to wake up.

I need to go to sleep.

Content

This happens every so often.

Now is one of those every so often times.

I compare my blog, my writing - my drivel, to the other blogs that don't have drivel.

They have content.

I don't have content.

I have drivel.

Drivel = nonsense.

I want to have content. I want to make sense. I want to have a purpose for my blog other than just the randomness that oozes from my fingertips to the keyboard. I've been wondering if I should make my piece of the blogosphere have a little more depth than random.

I mean, I'll always be random, I'll always have random - but maybe it's time to put more thought, more heart, more time into what I write.

You see, I write what I live, what I think, what I do. I'm just random. I'm shallow. I'm noncommittal. I don't think about much for too long. (unless it's 2 am and I wake up panicking over a blog post, wondering if I said the wrong thing, misspelled something, offended someone, etc. then I think about something too long.)

I want to do better. Be better. Not just in my writing (though it's a goal of mine), but in most areas of my life. The only area I don't need to get any better at is eating. I'm a really good eater! I know how to eat! I love me some food.

Seriously though.

If I'm going to write with more content I need to live with more content.

I want to be purposeful.

Intentional.

I want to make the most of my time.

My skills. (though they are few.)

My energy. (huh, energy?)

And maybe if I'm living with more content, I'll write with less drivel. Maybe it'll make sense.

Maybe it will matter.

i'm so tired of busyness

We are a busy family.

And I don't know why.

Last week we were in our home only two evenings of the week.

Two.

For four homebodies, that's not much time at home. Yes, it's known that we love to be on the move but the ol' saying is true, "There's no place like home."

If there's no place like home then why does it seem we're never here?

Last week my husband put in over 15 hours at his parent's house working. I worked along side him a couple of the nights but the third night I needed to change it up so the girls and I headed to my mom's.

I don't remember Thursday night. I know that Friday we made the decision to head to Portland but we decided to wait until Saturday morning to leave. So Friday was spent at home, playing Candyland and then cleaning out the van. Simple things but it was so nice to be at our house.

Last week was a little nuts with our first week of home schooling and with being away from home most evenings.

My house, my laundry, my yard, my brain...they're all suffering.

It's hard to say no to things. It's hard to tell someone "no" or "not right now." Yet I think I'm going to need to start doing this a little more because I feel like our home is falling apart.

And not just the house itself.

But the people and the relationships going on inside this house.

It's time to set priorities and boundaries and it's time to stick to 'em.

Not every evening is going to run smoothly and not every day is going to go as planned but I think having a plan, setting priorities and boundaires - will definitely help life to not be so busy and hectic.

I'm looking forward to easy, comfortable, planned yet flexible days and evenings ahead.

I'm looking forward to conversations with my husband at a decent hour instead of waking him in the middle of the night to talk to him.

So, here goes on setting a new, at-home-more schedule!

Monday Bits (and bites, too)

We're home from Portland.

We watched three soccer games in about six hours' time. My nieces' reward for winning 2 out of 3 of their games? Watching my girls while their parents and I enjoyed a feast of Chang's Mongolian Grill and then going to a movie.

Thanks, girls! (and that ten bucks WILL make it back to you, punk!)

**

On our way home we stopped at Ikea to pick up a couple of bookcases for the living room. I've never been able to display all of our books. They're either packed in boxes, drawers, sprawled out on the floor, littering my countertops, etc. It makes a crazy girl even crazier. I decided it was time to do something about it.

We agreed on the bookcase (no small miracle) and we came home and put them together in about 10 minutes. Nice! We have a large window in our living room and the bookcases are now on each side of the window.

With a very large speaker on top of each of them.

BIG SIGH!

Yes, the very speakers you see in this post.

My husband has been instructed that those speakers need to find a new home immediately. His idea is to place the bookcases on top of the speakers.

Seriously, folks, what am I to do with the guy?

**

Today was working on the number 2. Sugar is none too thrilled with writing the number 2. I'm none too thrilled with her being none too thrilled. All she wants to do is be read to. Which I'm cool with but still, the writing of the numbers and letters must be learned.

**

I have approximately 83 loads of laundry to do. I'm about as thrilled to do laundry as Sugar is to write the number 2.

Will someone please come read to the both of us?

**

Date night with my mom and sister tomorrow. I'm stoked. Tacos and a movie. Most likely a lot of laughter mixed in.

**

The laundry is not getting done while I blog. Neither is story time.

What's your Monday lookin' like?

My Brain on a Friday

Randomness for a Friday:

Yesterday I thought it was Wednesday, so I'm having a hard time wrapping my brain around the fact that it's Friday.

It's a good problem to have.

We've had a busy busy day today.

My day started before 2 am. {sigh} I woke up, unable to go back to sleep I woke my husband up. Poor guy. He already was planning to get up at 3 for work. We've been really busy this week and honestly, this was the only free alone time we'd had.

I voiced my concerns again over worrying about what our friends and our family and the people at the grocery store think of our education choice for our kids. Maybe this is normal for new home school families, I don't know? But it's seriously an issue for me, obviously - since I can't sleep.

We went to Starbucks yesterday and Sugar started talking to a woman behind us.

"I'm in Kindergarten!"

"You are?! Do you like Kindergarten?"

Sugar nodded.

"Do you have a lot of kids in your class?" the girl asked her.

"No. Just one."

This morning we had a few errands to run. We needed to go to my in-laws to mow and then to Nana and Papa's to mow. The grass was still pretty wet so we went to the park first.

We went to the library next and at the suggestion of a few friends I encouraged Sugar to pick out a couple of books on anything she wanted. We came home with two dolphin books for her, an insect book for Spice, Little House on the Prairie for all of us, a Jodi Picoult book for me and a book on composting.

This morning I decided (rather impulsively - because that's how I roll) that I wanted to go to Treena's for the weekend to see my niece's first soccer games of the season. They're in sports in winter and spring and we've seen them play then but we've never been to a soccer game (bad aunt!) and I wanted to remedy that - stat! Plus, I want all the goods on what's going on in the first week of high school and middle school for two of my favorite girls. Treena's up for my idea, Josh is mostly. Now it depends on if the paycheck arrived today like it's supposed to and if he gets home at a decent hour.

My lawn and my pasture need to be mowed. Is it just me or does it seem like they always need to be mowed?! I've already mowed two lawns today, can that be my quota?

The girls are down for naps but I can still hear them talking. I kinda wanna take a nap myself. I just don't roll like that.

I miss my sister Erica.

I'm working on whispering when speaking to my girls. My temper flies. Instead of handling a situation immediately, I often wait until I'm really ticked. And I yell. I'm sick of me. Sick of yelling. Today I've been intentionally speaking softly even when I've been frustrated. It's amazing how it's after 2 and my nerves aren't shot yet! Praying this lasts longer than a day.

Okay, I'm going to read some of my new book. The girls are quiet! Yay!

What are you up to this weekend?

Facebook, Honey, I miss you. XO, Sarah

I've been missin' me some Facebook. Lemme tell ya!

Things I'd like to FB:

1.) Just tonight I was texting with a friend about dieting. Told her we could try laxatives. You know, for shits and giggles. {yep, I swore.}

2.) Tonight I found close to three dollars in change in Spice's crib. And some of it was in her diaper.

3.) I put a catalytic converter on a motorhome last night. Google it.

4.) I went through a drive-thru without pants.

5.) Last Thursday and Friday I had a yard sale at my house. Of the goods I was selling, one of the items was a headboard. A guy came up to talk to my sister (they knew each other in high school) and the headboard was beside us.

Guy: "Nice headboard, how much?"

Me: "15 bucks. We only used it for like 5 minutes."

Guy looks at me. My mom and sister and I erupt into laughter.

I soooo did not mean it like that. I meant that we hadn't used the headboard for very long, that it was like new. Guess I didn't get my point across the way I intended.

He left without the headboard.

Why we decided to quit our Curriculum

I tried earlier today to make light of how bad my day has been.

However, if I'm going to be honest - and I really try to be that here - then I'll tell you that after I wrote the post, I emailed my wonderful friend Laura with tears streaming down my face.

It's not easy for me to admit this here. I know I have home school critics right here reading this. Friends and family. Those who may - and not to my face of course - be thinking, "I told you so."

Dude. This stuff is hard.

But it's only day three.

And it's only Kindergarten!

Dude. It's still hard!

In good ol' Laura fashion, she emailed me back with encouraging words and a promise that we'd chat on the phone later when our three hour time difference works for us both.

You see, I made a rookie mistake. A big one.

Instead of focusing on our reasons to home school our kids I started focusing on what other people were thinking. Honestly, mostly my family. I was mostly concerned with the thoughts of my mother-in-law. She's a public school teacher and I just figured that home schooling just wouldn't be enough in her eyes.

I'm not saying she thinks this. Not at all. We haven't talked about it one bit.

It's all been me putting too high of expectations on myself and my Kindergartener.

I wanted a thorough, advanced, lay it all out there for me curriculum. One review said that at the end of Kindergarten my child would be second grade public school level! I thought if my five year old could head into 2nd grade public school then that would mean I was a success.

Hello.

This isn't about me being successful.

This is about Sugar. This is about getting her excited to learn. It's about nurturing the things that she loves and progressing at a reasonable pace. Not a two-grades-ahead pace.

My husband came home for lunch. Sat down and asked how school was today. I broke down in tears again. I explained to him how the day had gone.

I explained how at one point during our history lesson Sugar stopped me and started praying out loud:

"Dear Lord, please let me do good. And let this day go by faster because I'm tired. Amen."

She was completely uninterested in learning about how people used to live in caves and wear animal skins to keep warm. During science she couldn't even say the words Northern and Southern Hemisphere, no matter how many times she tried. However, she was all about me reading The Boxcar Children, Mother Goose, writing the letter F and learning her math.

We love the curriculum we've chosen. We're going to keep it. But we're not going to use it until 1st or 2nd grade. For now, we're going to focus on Bible, Reading/Writing and Math and paper and glue and scissors.

The "I told you so's" will come. I know they will. Not to my face. Not in writing. But they are there. I need to get over dwelling on that and focus my attention on our new home school plan.

We learned a good lesson. An expensive lesson but a good one.

I'm excited about where we're going from here.

Keepin' it Real

First lesson of home school day three?

How to quickly but safely load up into the van and drive to Starbucks because Mommy got three hours of sleep between the getting up five times with the two year old who caught the cold Mommy has and who isn't sleeping because of coughing, sniffling, stuffiness and the losing of a pacifier.

Seriously, folks. Three hours. Those weren't even consecutive hours. That's total hours of sleep.

I'm ready to put the oldest in public school.

And the youngest in daycare.

I need a nap.

And quite possibly a straight jacket.

And some shackles.

Um, another Pumpkin Spice Latte would be fab, too.

The post where I tell you about the pictures I'm not posting

I'd love to tell you that our first and second day of home-school was superb. I'd love to tell you it's going FAB and that we're thrilled. I'd love to tell you that it's been a breeze.

But I can't.

I have a two year old who needs constant attention. I have a five year old who is just.like.me in the learning department. (sorry, Mom! please forgive me! i was a total snot! i need you, i do! i just didn't know it then....)

I'd love to post pictures of our new cat and how she made our house her home this weekend without us even asking her to. Cats are smooth like that. I'd love to show you how Ruby (Marshmallow/Rootbeer) is terrorizing Clifford.

But I'm too lazy to upload them.

Instead I'll tell you I found her peeing in my plant. Uh huh, I did. She. Peed. IN. My. Plant! And she's ridiculously adorable. I'm glad she found us.

Even if she does pee in my plant.

I'd love to tell you my house is spic and span. That there isn't any dog hair or dust floating all over the place. I'd love to tell you that I don't have dishes stacked up to the cupboards on the counter.

Um, I can't.

There's dust from the remodel, there's dog hair from the...well, the dog. And the dishes? How'd they get there?! Geesh.

Pictures of home-school day 1, pictures of Ruby, pictures of the remodel - will come.

Just not now.

Because I have dishes to do.

I have dog hair to vacuum.

And dust to remove.

Bananas and Zucchini

Note: The post title has nothing to do with the story I'm about to tell you. I just decided I needed a random post title.

My entire body still hurts.

My abs hurt from all the laughter from the weekend.

Particularly from the laughter on Saturday.

The H fam was here for the weekend and on Saturday the 1o of us loaded up in two rigs and headed to Richland to go play in the water. We have access to a really fancy boat.

And we thought it'd be fun to go tubing.

Tubing with a 25 hp fishing boat.

Throughout the day, Josh and Jim took the kids in pairs out on the water. While two of Jim and Emily's kids were out in the water with the dads, the other two of their kiddos were busy entertaining mine. Then, they'd switch. Boat ride to playing with the little girls.

In my next life I'm going to have a set of teenagers to take care of my younger children.

If I believed in a next life where it was possible to have teenagers take care of my younger children...

It wasn't supposed to be very warm. And it was supposed to be pretty windy. So naturally Emily and I left our suits at home and did not plan to ride in the boat.

But, it wasn't too windy. And, it was pretty danged warm.

We decided we should just go out in the boat and go tubing - darn it. Clothes and all. Jeans and all.

I was the first to tube. When getting into the tube it looked as if someone were trying to gracefully place a hippopotamus in the tube.

Friends, there's just no graceful way to get a hippo to do anything.

Let alone trying to get a hippo into a small tube.

But, there I was. In the tube. And the adults had to position themselves just so in the boat so that the 25 hp engine could get me outta the water.

It was fun. It was three days ago.

My body is still sore.

My abs got the work out of a lifetime as well.

When Emily suggested the two of us ride the tube.

Together.

random insert: josh just called and asked what i was up to. i told him i'm trying to blog about our tubing experience. his response, "there just aren't words."

There aren't.

There was a whole lot of laughter though. Trying to get us both in the tube there came a point I was on my back and couldn't right myself.

"I feel like a turtle."

I actually said those words.

"I feel like a turtle."

And then I almost peed the jeans I was wearing. The jeans that had basically become an anchor because they were soaked and heavy.

After many minutes we somehow were in the tube.

Together.

And the poor boat couldn't get us up. And somehow I made us fall in.

And then I made Emily hold my hand because I didn't want to float away alone. We got back to the tube and Emily showed super human upper body strength and got back on the tube.

She got back on!

And she pulled me on too! She was my hero!

But the boat still couldn't get us up.

And we fell off again. And we drank a whole lot of river water.

The boys finally gave up on being able to get the tube out of the water and they called us back in.

It was now time to get back in the boat.

The fishing boat, remember?



Do you see a ladder anywhere? Me either. Because I don't have super human upper body strength like Emily has, my husband had to brace himself in the boat and pull me up. Um, I weigh more than he does so I'm not sure how - a miracle of the Lord, obviously - but he pulled me up in the boat. Another miracle of the Lord is that my jeans did not fall down to my ankles.

My underwear might have but I'm not telling.

And then Emily got in the boat. And how she makes getting in the tube and in the boat look graceful is beyond me but I don't think it's fair.

Isn't that what life is supposed to be about? Fairness?

No? Oh.

We got back to shore. Their kids had kept my kids alive near the water. While having fun with the adults in the boat my thoughts tended to drift to my girls. The devil is oh so good at trying to make me live in fear of my girls drowning. {first time visit to my blog? my dad drown in '99. the end}

The kids had fun.

The adults had fun.

It was time to load every sandy body into the rigs. The daddies and the kiddies fit perfectly in the Suburban and Emily and I fit perfectly in the van. (Remember that part about life being fair? The dads with all the kids, the moms with none of the kids equals fairness. Dontcha think?)

We blasted the heat.

And we took off our wet pants.

And then we went through a Zip's drive thru.

With no pants on.

The End.

{Love}

Thanks, Em.

School Routine Round 1

On Monday we began implementing a little bit of the new routine that will be happening once school starts next Tuesday.

It will be subject to change...of course. We'll see how it goes once school is actually going.

So far, it's goin' a little like this:

Sugar is up at the crack o' dawn, usually around 6ish (Why, Lord, why??).

We eat breakfast around 7:30ish.

Curious George is on at 8.

At 8:30 she's to get dressed, make her bed and brush her teeth while I clean up breakfast dishes and pour myself round number 37 of coffee.

Though we haven't started yet, 9 am will be the approximate time we sit down and start our lessons for the day. We should {haha!} be done around 11-11:30, just in time to make lunch.

Depending on how the three of us do - Spice will be at the table with us - we'll probably have a run outside and wiggle out some of the crazies around 10.

Seems easy enough, right?

As I schedule this out and make plans, I laugh. Nothing ever goes according to plan. Not ever. If this schedule doesn't change at least 3 times I'll be shocked. I feel better going in with a plan, though.

Now I just need to find my denim jumper and apple earrings.

Being Normal is Completely Overrated. Having Fun is Not.

One of my favorite things about my husband is that he's always up for anything.

Often it's his idea to put the wild in hair.

Wait. What?

Nevermind.

Last year over Memorial Weekend he took our big speakers (like 70's big) and put them out on our deck to blast the radio on our deck. We (as in my mom, sisters and myself) stood on our picnic table and sang a little Queen at the top of our lungs.

Good times.

Almost three weeks ago my mom and Megan were coming over for the evening to eat (duh) and watch Leap Year (good flick).

It was a beautiful evening. So, Josh decides we'll watch the movie outside on our deck by the fire. He brought out the tv, dvd player and our 70's speakers. Of course it wouldn't be complete without the bench seat from the Chevy pick up or the driver's seat of a Peterbilt.

We roll Redneck.

Or is it White Trash?

Of course we had to wait until it was dark to start the movie, so there was a little bit of singing. And, maybe just a little bit of ridiculousness thrown in there too.

It's what we do best.



I wish I could remember what song they were singing. I just remember them looking for the nearest "microphone."




Since we had seats from two different types of rigs (Chevy and Peterbilt) why not pull out a steering wheel from a couple of other rigs? I mean really, why not?

First we went this way...


And then we went that way...




Then Mom got to drive. For a minute. We couldn't let her drive for too long seein' how she had a beer by her leg.



I took my turn behind the wheel. A different wheel I might add.




Apparently we witnessed a horrific accident.

It was almost time for the movie. But not before a little see no evil/hear no evil...





I'm not entirely sure what that last picture is. I just know my stomach hurt from all the laughter and I was ready to just sit back and watch the movie.

It was one of those nights where I was loving every minute of my life.

Crazy and all.

Dressed for Success

We start school a week from today!



We're getting pretty excited around here.

Even more so that our first week of school is planned out. {huge.sigh.of.relief!}



Jim and Emily were here overnight from Friday to Saturday. Jim left with Josh for a few hours and while the men folk were outta the house Emily kicked my butt into gear and made the decision for me that we were going to get my first week of school stuff - organized.

Armed with a pen and Post-Its {God bless the Post-It} we went through my huge ol' binder to find out exactly what was needed for week one. We pulled all books, CDs, etc that would be needed for Days 1-5.



It didn't take us long at all! Why I've been putting it off is beyond me. I'm so thankful for a {pushy} friend like Emily. The entire time she was so encouraging (and probably thinking I'm nuts for taking on this curriculum for Kinder.) Her excitement and sweet words left me feeling like I could actually do this!



On Saturday Josh and I went out to dinner. Over a pizza and Blue Moon we talked about our school schedule, what our new routine will look like, etc. We also talked about his involvement as well. We're all really excited about this.

Like, really excited.



And we're actually ready!

*she wore this outfit out in public today. she can say a lot of things about how i mothered her, but she can never say i didn't let dress her own way.

Statuses? Status'? Statusi?

Without a Facebook account there's no place (except for right here, in list format) for random blips about what goes in our house.

It hasn't even been 12 hours since I deleted my account and I have slew of status updates:

"Sugar, I love your blue eyes and your cute nose." "Mama, you have a big nose, but it's good to sniff with."

The husband and I were kinda fighting yesterday. I went out and bought him a new starter for our Suburban. He came home with a Pumpkin Spice Latte for me. We both laughed.

Josh worked late last night. I fed the kids. Bathed the kids. Put the kids to bed. Got them settled (with a little help from a wooden spoon threat) and then he walks in the door. They fly outta bed and he winds 'em up chasing them around the house for 20 minutes. At least I had a Pumpkin Spice Latte to enjoy...

Got carpet samples yesterday. Between the three I chose, the one I want costs double the one in my price range. Big sigh.

Spice picked her own outfit today. A pink sweater, a skirt, a green sock, an orange sock and her sister's tennis shoes. She's rockin' some style today, folks.

Amazingly no one died last night without me posting these updates to Facebook.

I think we're all going to be okay.

So much for putting the fun in funeral

I have no sitter for my youngest today.

The funeral for my grandpa starts in approximately 20 minutes.

I had planned to take Sugar but Spice...well, Spice is my wild card. Sometimes she's an angel and other times {read, most times} she wears horns. ☺

A funeral isn't really a place to test out which Spice I'm going to get.

So, home I stay.

Right where I belong.

End of a Season

If we're friends on Facebook, you know how often I'm there, what I had for breakfast this morning (Pumpkin Spice Latte), the latest antics of my two year old and when I'm headed to the grocery store or asylum.

I don't know how long I've been on Facebook, a coupla years? More? I dunno.

I love it.

I love sharing the random stuff of my day. I love reading the random stuff of your day.

But I think it's time.

The Facebook season of my life was/is fun. However, I'm going to be entering a very busy season of my life soon and I want to make sure I'm devoting as much time to that as possible.

I've also been neglecting my blog. And if I have to choose FB or my blog to put my time into, I'd rather it be my blog.

Pretty sure that I'm going to be very sad this evening when I hit delete. But it's time.

I'm {mostly} ready.

I'd love to have you come back and read what we're up to right here.

In two weeks

Two weeks from today we begin our home school journey.

*gulp*

I've been nervous about it for approximately....five years. More so in the last five months. Because I realized it was time to get serious about it and because Sugar was resistant.

"I'm going to go to school. I'm going to wear a backpack and ride the bus. My teacher will teach me and then I'll come home to you."

That's an actual statement she made to me a few months back when we were talking about Kindergarten. She asked me who her teacher was going to be and the above statement is what I heard after informing her that I would be her teacher.

I dropped the subject. I didn't want to push her about it. I know my daughter well. Then her fifth birthday was getting closer and people would ask her if she was going to start Kindergarten. She'd nod but not say much.

But it opened the door to start talking to her about it again. And again I told her that she'd start school at home.

"But I don't want to."

I kinda froze. Then I remembered a few little girls that she loves that are home schooled.

"Honey, did you know that Emily is the teacher to Rachel and Beth?"

"She is?!"

We talked about it some more and she was finally okay with the fact that she wouldn't be riding a bus and leaving home to learn.

In just the last couple of weeks she's been getting really excited. Asking me daily if we can start school yet. I told her that once she starts school she has at least 13 years ahead of her and we can just wait a few more weeks.

Part of me is waiting because I haven't lesson planned for our first couple of weeks of school.

Part of me is waiting because I want to hold on to her just being my little non-school-aged kiddo. There's no going back once school begins. I totally get that I can't prolong the inevitable. Yet I see nothing wrong with waiting to start school until after Labor Day and enjoying these last few weeks of summer with my little girls sans school schedule.

After a gazillion mixed reviews on curriculum choices we purchased a curriculum that I believe will be really good for our family. It's very thorough and has a structured flexibility to it (follow me on that one?!) that I'm looking forward to.

It's going to rock for our family.

One thing I'm most excited about? Buying school supplies.

my FuNkY heart

Maybe it's coming off the weekend high.

Maybe it's the fact that it was freezing in my house this morning.

Or maybe it's just my life.

But right now I feel FuNkY.

This time of year just gets me, man. Always.

Today is laundry day. It's also catch up on the house because I've been gone for nearly three days day. It's clean the deck outside because it looks awful day.

I just can't seem to motivate myself indoors. I mowed the backyard this morning. I washed the outside of one of the windows in the living room. I've changed a couple of diapers. Thankfully Sugar made sandwiches for herself and her sister while I was out mowing (huge surprise!) because I didn't even have the oomph for that.

I'm distracted.

I admit it.

There's a lot going on.

On the inside.

My heart. My flesh. My heart. My flesh.

{big sigh}

I want to curl up in bed and wake up next Monday.

On my mind

A weekend of scrapbooking begins tomorrow night. Pictures, paper, embellishments, adhesive, snacks, Kristie, Treena, and my mother-in-law. I'll leave tomorrow night. My mom is watching my girls for the day on Friday until Josh gets home and then I'll be home Sunday. Two entire days to scrap, talk, and stare at all the snacks.

Weight loss. I'm down 6.5 lbs. For four years I was 135 lbs. I hated it. Until I gained 15 more this last year. When I look at pictures of 135 I realize it wasn't so bad. I just compared pictures of me at 135 with pictures of me at 115. I think I'll be happy with 135. My goal is to reach that by mid-September. I'd love to lose more but a little at a time is my goal right now. I'm not doing any fancy diet. I'm just more aware of my food intake and I'm trying really hard not to eat after 5:30 pm.

My sister Erica.

Laundry. I've been naughty. I've been washing it, drying it and watching it wrinkle in the clothes basket. Shame on me. I got up early to fold Mt. FAPA. The girls have put away their own clothes, now I just need the towels, dish cloths and mine and Josh's clothes to find someone to put those away.

Expectations. Realizing I still need to lower the expectations I have of myself and my kids. It's such a process. None of us is perfect. Everyone has quirks. But we need to love people in spite of them and hope to be loved in spite of our own.

Country music. I love it. I have for 16 years. But I'm thinking of giving it up. I always think about giving it up. Maybe it's time.

Poor decisions.

Victoria's Secret. I walked in, found what I needed and walked out with $45 less than I went in. Takes big money to hold big...well, nevermind.

My marriage.

My friendships.

The water the dog let drip out of his mouth after he left the toilet bowl. Ew.

Finding a new home for said dog. Seriously, I'm totally done with him. He's neeeeeeeddddyyy. (don't worry Min, he's safe. but if you wanna come get him.....)

Laundry. Oh, did I mention that already? Prolly because I still have more to FAPA and the washing machine just chimed letting me know another load has been washed for me.

It seems all my posts end because I either have laundry to FAPA or a lawn to mow. It's time to hire someone to do these things for me. I'm ready to kick back with a Blue Moon and a good book.

It's {only} Kindergarten

Kindergarten starts for Sugar in less than a month.

I'd be lyin' if I said I wasn't skerd.

Before Sugar was even born Josh and I knew that we'd be homeschooling our kids. Yes, us. The ones without a college education. We know it freaks people out. Heck, it freaks us out. But, right now, it's what we feel called to do.

I have the curriculum. I have the kid. Most importantly, I have God. I know I couldn't do it without Him.

I've voiced my fears a couple of times to a few people only to hear, "remember, it's just Kindergarten."

I always wanna respond, "uh huh, what's yer point?" (i'm gonna rock home school with my grammar and spelling, huh?)

However, I don't respond that way. I take in what's said.

I remember only two things about my Kindergarten year: my first friend, a boy named Peter, and falling asleep on the bus everyday on the way home from school.

While the two memories I have of that year are fond and funny memories, I want Sugar to have many more. I'm so so so looking forward to this time with her. I'm also looking forward to seeing how much Spice will pick up as well. She's observant and loves to listen - it's the whole holding still thing we need to work on.

To me, it's not just Kindergarten. As if Kindergarten is no big deal. Kindergarten is a big deal.

It'll be our first year to truly make a pointed effort in teaching/learning. Yes, yes I should have been making a pointed effort long before now but that's the way it often goes with a firstborn. They're the guinea pig. (I'm a guinea pig, I'm okay with it)

It'll be learning how to get Spice to pay attention too.

It'll be getting up early each day. Having a routine.

It'll be sticking to a commitment I've made.

It'll be a process of learning. Not just about adding or subtracting. Or geography or science. But about each other and how to work together.

It'll be learning to be patient. For Sugar and for me.

It'll be one, fat, beautiful mess.

And, I think I'm ready for it.

you know, mostly.

{pffft}

august makes me antsy.

i don't know why.

i guess i partly know why.

the beach is soothing.

5 hours is not enough time.

my hair is frizzy at the beach.

and at home.

i missed a call on my cell phone this morning from a number i don't recognize.

that drives me nuts.

i miss people.

i hiked in flip flops yesterday.

my husband thinks i'm weird.

i tried to kill a spider last thursday night with a salad fork and spoon.

my blog will get a new look soon. hopefully soon.

right, Denise?

i know i change the look of my blog often but i can't help it.

i'm not a good mom.

i feel bad for my girls.

my pasture needs to be mowed.

i mowed the front lawn already today.

the girls and i went to the park.

i took them to a town where the gun fights are less and i could feel a little safer.

we didn't stay long because i'm not a fan of bratty kids and oblivious parents.

i know what i'm making for dinner tonight.

i lost 4.5 lbs last week.

i'd love to do that for another 4 weeks.

okay, the pasture really needs to get mowed.

i'm going.

to mow the pasture.

right now.

no, really.

i am.

The Night I Got in Trouble....and a list {but of course!}

I have the world's best blog readers and friends.

Thank you for loving on me over this post. My husband is handling it, which means I don't have to, which means I should probably stop eating chocolate and blaming it on the stress of how to handle The Situation of the Not So Nice Email.

Can we do another random post? "But you just did a random post on Monday!" I know. But it's the way my mind is working right now.

Think it.

Write it.

Do it.

Check it off.

Sometimes (but don't tell anyone) the order goes a little like this:

Do it.

Write it.

Check it off.

That way at least one thing gets done from the list. Hey, it makes me feel better.

So, Thursday list day. Here goes.

I'm currently in a state of panic. We'll officially be starting Chaos Schoolhouse in our home on September 6th. Yep, curriculum is purchased, it sat on the floor of my living room for 2.5 weeks until I opened it, smelled all things book and then boxed it back up! Then I waited another week to shelve it. Those boxes and everything inside make me a bit nauseous. How is it that Sugar is ready to start Kindergarten?!

We had set a goal of having our upstairs remodel done before September. Excuse me a sec - hahahahahahahahahaha. Oh, what lofty goals. What foolish, foolish goals. I was hoping (key word here) that the bedroom we're in now (which is also the laundry room) would be made into a classroomish kind of place. Not that we'll do school in there but I'd love to have a place for all the books, papers, straight jackets, pencils, crayons, etc.

Last night I faced reality.

It's not going to happen.

Besides this weekend we only have one more available weekend to work on it. I had posted on FB that we'd like people to come over this weekend to help if they felt so inclined. I had a taker! And then I told my husband, "hey, Honey! Guess what!? Ted and Kristie are going to come help on Saturday, can you believe it?! AND, she's bringing me a bread machine! And you think all the time I spend on Facebook is for nothing...."

Then he quit talking to me.

{big sigh}

Apparently you shouldn't advertise that you're needing help when *ahem* you don't need help.

So, we'll be working on our house on Saturday. But we don't need help. Nuh uh. We got this one covered. Uh huh...

I thought I had more to add to my list but my state of panic pretty much sums me up at the moment.

It's consuming me.

I Choose

In May (or was it June?) of last year I received a very hurtful email.

From a "friend."

This person read my blog. Was someone I saw weekly. Spent time with. Thought I could trust.

One very warm afternoon as I pulled into the Costco parking lot, I pulled out my iPhone to check my email real quick and was excited to see an email from my "friend." Turns out I need not be excited but thankful that I was sitting down. She trashed me. She thought she was being helpful, I think. But really she just trashed me. Mostly, she trashed my beliefs.

And that's what really got me.

Most of you know I struggle with feeling down. Easily. Often.

Too often.

I beat myself up regularly. It's kinda like brushing my teeth.

Except that brushing my teeth is just a twice a day deal and beating myself up can often be an all day thing. What I'm saying is, is the negative thoughts I think toward myself is like second nature to me.

Always has been.

I fear it always will be.

I got another email.

Another email trashing me.

From someone closer.

Every thought I think about myself was confirmed in this email.

I know I'm fat but to have someone tell you that you are...wow.

There just aren't words.

To have someone throw your past in your face. The past you've tried to forgive yourself for, the past you've asked forgiveness for...owie.

To be blamed for something you're not responsible for...it's almost too much.

To be lied about. An out and out lie...a big one. One you can't defend, one you can't prove to not be true...I just don't even know what to do with that.

Last night I was sick. In my stomach. In my heart. We went to my in-laws, a place I love to be, and I just couldn't focus on my time with them. Today I went there to apologzie to them.

There's not going to be a response to the email I was sent. Because there's just nothing I can say.

My husband said he'd respond for me. That he would take care of it. I cannot tell you how loved and treasured I feel knowing I can let this go.

It's not going to be easy. The words were hurtful. So direct. So hateful.

But, I've been forgiven much.

I will forgive much.

Mondays are for Lists....and Laundry

Happy Monday!

Can those two words even be in the same sentence?

Sure, why not?

How about a random list? It's Monday. And Mondays are all about making lists...at least that's what I do on Mondays.

At 7 am this morning I spilled a glass of milk in the fridge.

At 8:30 am I got dressed in the kitchen. I have no idea why, I just did.

I have a whole lotta laundry that needs to be done. First thing in the washer should be the towel used to clean the milk from the fridge.

Said goodbye to my nieces yesterday. Made my heart hurt.

Faced my fear of water on Saturday and went tubing. The day after the 11th anniversary of my dad drowning. I was proud of me.

Now every muscle in my upper body feels like I've been hit by a truck.

I may wait another 11 years to go tubing.

My neighbor's dog barks all night. And craps in my yard all day. I'm pretty much sick of it. They've been great neighbors for the five years they've lived next door so I don't know how to approach the situation. But SOMETHING must be done!

It's supposed to be 102 in our town today. 101 tomorrow and Wednesday and high 90's the rest of the week. Hello, Summer, I was wondering when you'd get here.

Asked my husband last night if there's anything about our new budget that he doesn't like. There isn't anything. We both love it.

Sugar is looking at the Kindergarten curriculum boxes that have been sitting in the living room for a couple of weeks and announced she's ready to start school. Glad one of us is.

We have five zucchini plants in our garden.

We're morons.

We also planted pumpkins. A bit early. If you'd like Halloween in August, we're your people! Pumpkins should be ready at the end of the month.

Again, we're morons.

The laundry pile hasn't started washing itself yet.

I'm beginning to wonder if my writing this post is playing into that.

Okay, random post complete.

My laundry pile needs me.

{for the first time in 11 years} i'm not going to lock myself in the bathroom and cry

It's now been 11 years since my dad died.

11 YEARS.

Doesn't seem possible.

When I was 11 he was still sending me carnations on Valentine's Day. I was still going to his house on occasional weekends. When I was 11 our relationship was still awkward. Something that would never change.

I feel like I'm the most emotionally healthy I've been on this icky anniversary. Most years I can be found a wreck. Not publicly. But if you were to see me in the bathroom, slouched down on the floor, bawling...you'd see I was a mess. I don't see that happening this year.

It's not that I don't miss him.

Because I do.

I always do.

Everyday.

It's just that this year I'm learning to not let guilt eat me alive. I've always felt so guilty that I didn't make a point of seeing him more while I was growing up. Or calling him once a week. Or month for that matter.

I used to feel guilty for stuff that I realize I have no reason to feel guilty for.

I was the kid.

He and my mom could have worked something out for me to see him more often.

It just didn't happen.



I kinda hate that.

I wish so much that seeing him on a regular basis had been a priority to them. I know it wasn't always my favorite thing - going to visit him. Since our relationship was just...awkward. Still, he was my dad.

And I was his daughter.

I am his daughter.

He may be gone. But I'm a part of him.

I look like him.

I laugh like him.

I have a big nose like him.

I'm left-handed like him.

He liked beer...hey, I do too!

He was an amazing artist...and I can draw a stick person that everyone would be jealous of!

I have a dip under my chin - he had that also. I've passed it on to my youngest daughter. It's not the greatest thing to pass on...a double chin. But I like it anyway.

He loved to laugh. Me too.

He loved his friends. And so do I.

He lived with his parents for his 40 years of life...oh, guess the buck stops there. ☺

The other night we took the girls for a walk. The cemetery is almost directly behind our house...it's very very close. Yet, we've never taken the girls there. We walked to his headstone. Second row, 9th one over. The headstone is simple. Its him.

We tried to explain to Sugar. It wasn't easy but after a little bit she understood.

"So, he was my grandpa?"

"Did he love me?"

"Did he hold me?"

These questions broke my heart. He never held her. Never got to love her. Oh, but he would have. I just know it!

I think it was good to take them there. Even though it was hard.

I'm not someone who will ever make regular trips to the cemetery. I just won't. My dad isn't actually there. Just a headstone. But I realized that I don't like going there because it just reiterates the fact that he died. He drown. He's gone.

I won't see him smile or hear his laugh. There won't ever be another awkward hug. Though I'd take an awkward hug over no hug anyday. He won't ever hold his granddaughters or teach them to play softball. He also won't ever give them beer the way he did me when I was little!

These things make me sad.

For sure.

But I'm so thankful I knew him. That I have heard his laugh. That I have seen him smile. That I have his big nose...wait, did I just say that?

I don't want to dwell on the sad part.

I just want to be thankful.

to all the high school girls who don't read my blog

Maybe it's because I have my 14.5 year old niece coming to visit.

Maybe it's because it's mid-July and that always has me thinking that summer is over and it's time for school to start.

Or, maybe it's because I got to hang out with four of my best friends from high school last week.

And, just maybe it's a combination of all of 'em.

But, I've been thinking about high school. And my friends and I were talking about high school. And even though I don't wanna go back, some days I wish I could with a little hindsight tucked in my pocket.

My last day of 8th grade I moved 45 minutes away to another town. I was going to start high school at a new school. I'd been in that school district, though, for Kinder, 2nd, 3rd, part of 5th and part of 7th grade so many of the faces would be those I knew. I was excited and nervous all at the same time.

I wasn't excited about working hard to get awesome grades so I could receive scholarships. I wasn't excited about pursuing sports or joining clubs.

I was excited about boys.

Plain and simple. Boys.

I remember wondering if I'd see the boy that was my first friend from Kindergarten.

I remember wondering if I'd see the boy from church I'd just kissed on the fourth of July.

I remember wondering if older boys would like me.

Thinking back on it, I'm bugged at myself.

I had fun in school. I did. But I cared more about boys than grades. Cared more about boys than making lasting friendships. {I'm so fortunate my friends are still my friends!}

If I could change things about those four years, I would. I'd be okay with just being "one of the guys" instead of being hurt by it. I'd take back almost every single kiss I gave away.

I had two boyfriends in high school {three if you count Josh} but I kissed more boys than I have fingers to hold up. If a boy isn't going to be seen with you at school but will kiss you after he drops you off at home - drop him first.

If your best friend has a serious boyfriend and spends a bunch of her time with him - don't sit at home. Make more friends. Do fun stuff. Make memories. Take pictures. Write it down. Live it up.

Don't cheat in school. Especially if you sit in the front row. Especially when the teacher is your Cross Country coach and you have to see him after school. And just because the exchange student is German, doesn't mean you should have her do your German homework for you. You're still going to get a C.

Make time for your sibling(s). Sadly, many friends come and go; however, your sister or brother is for keeps. I wish so much I'd stayed home on more Friday or Saturday nights playing games with my family. I wish I'd invested in my relationships more so that we'd be close now.

Join sports. Whether you have a friend in that sport or not. Join a sport for fun. For something to keep you busy. TV, computer, phone calls they can wait.

If you're going to TP houses and get pulled over, have the TP hidden a little better so when the cop is asking if you have some you aren't trying to kick it under the seat as you say, "no, Officer, we don't have any toilet paper."

When you and that boy break up and he starts going out with one of your best friends four days later - be okay with it. Don't write her a nasty note. And don't pine for him for the next two years. He's not worth it. However your friendship with her - is.

Do the blasted school work! All of it. More than you've been asked to do. Study like crazy. Then study some more. Stop studying the boy who sits in front you and the boy who sits beside you. One of them is going to be a complete and total loser even at age 31. The other one is cute but he likes boys.

Obey your parents. Don't deceive them. Trust them. Be trustworthy. Ask your friends over to your house. Your parents are cooler than you think. Your friends are only there for the food anyway, they aren't paying attention to your mom being a goof. Okay, maybe they are but it'll give 'em something to talk about 16 years later.

Don't gossip. Don't be that girl. Judge less. You never know what a girl or guy's home life is like. Be a friend. Always. If you happen to be a teenage guy reading this {pfft} and your girlfriend's little sister comes in the house asking at the top of her lungs if food stamps buy candy - just smile. Maybe she'll buy you some.

Make decisions at age 14-18 that ten years later you don't regret. Don't do anything with a boy that one day you'll dread telling your fiance.

College is right around the corner. It's not for everyone. But work hard enough in high school that you can go to the college you want to go to.

And now I'm done.

For now.

Any advice you wished you'd been given? Anything you'd do different if you could go back to high school?

blah...blah...and blah some more!

::::Blogging MoJo out the window::::

i’ve come to realize that my chest-size… is very likely the reason my back hurts all the live long day.

i’ve come to realize that my job… has no supervisor, no paycheck but i work 24/7 with a whole lotta awesome benefits. even though i moan and groan about my "job" - i love it. wouldn't trade it.

i’ve come to realize that when i’m driving… i gots me a whole lotta road rage. people who drive here either don't have a license, insurance or a green card so they all drive 15 mph UNDER the dadgum speed limit.

i’ve come to realize that i need… to listen more, talk less.

i’ve come to realize that i have lost… my mind. should you find it, please return it asap. thanks so much.

i’ve come to realize that i hate… dog hair, bugs who eat my garden and living 3.5 hrs from my SIL.

i’ve come to realize that if i’m drunk… it's been a while since i've been drunk {i don't recommend EVER being drunk} but i talk too loud, laugh too much and usually make a fool outta myself. hmm...no different than when i'm sober!

i’ve come to realize that money… does not grow on trees, is best when budgeted and is something we have enough of to pay bills and buy the occasional Starbucks. (God Bless Starbucks)

i’ve come to realize that certain people… are nice, some are jerks and i probably fall into the category of the latter more days than not.

i’ve come to realize that my siblings(s)… they both make life interesting, for completely different reasons. i have a relationship with one and am oh so thankful for that. and i don't talk to the other, which i'm {sadly} totally used to after 26 years.

i’ve come to realize that my mom… is like no other mom out there. i just received a card in the mail from her, addressed to "Crap Bag" and i'm not even kidding. she's a riot.

i’ve come to realize that when i woke up this morning… i had a five year old little girl in bed with me.

i’ve come to realize that my first love is… a funny thing. when i think of my first love, i think of my first high school relationship because that was the first person i said "i love you" to. but my first true love? i've come to realize he's steady where i waiver, he's serious where i'm ridiculous, he's calm where i'm...usually not, he's at work where i'm...at the computer.

i’ve come to realize that right now i am thinking about… my niece coming to visit for a week. i've DREAMED of the day when i could have her all to myself and now i get the chance! thankful for a SIL that trusts me {and her brother i s'pose} with her firstborn for an entire week.

i’ve come to realize that my dad… lives about a block away, yet last night was the first time i've visited him in years.

i’ve come to realize that when i get on facebook… i stay a leeeetle bit too long.

i’ve come to realize that today… is house cleaning day and with so much of it done yesterday, today should be a breeze!

i’ve come to realize that my best friend... i don't know. but i'll found out soon. beyond...beyond excited.

i’ve come to realize that my spouse… doesn't communicate well. we need to work on this. maybe if i talked less he'd have a chance, huh? ;)

i’ve come to realize that i really want to… get another tattoo {thanks for reminding me, denise} lose 30 lbs, write a book and drink some coffee.

i’ve come to realize that life… is what i make of it on a daily basis.

i’ve come to realize that this weekend… is gonna ROCK.

i’ve come to realize that next weekend… i'll be camping with the in-laws...all of 'em! so excited.

i’ve come to realize that my children… need me. a lot.

i’ve come to realize that when life gives you lemons… put 'em in a pretty bowl with some limes and set them on your table.

thanks Michelle for the post idea.

I do the dishes now but he loves me just the same as the days he was doing them.

Sunday is our 12th wedding anniversary.

Twelve years.

At year six, I never would have thought we'd see this day.

Never.

That was the year we filed for divorce.

We were done.

Through.

Finished.

Tired.

Over it.

It's not a time we talk about all that often.

But I know that as soon as we started the divorce process - I was sad.

Scared.

Lonely.

Regretful.

Miserable.

Wrong.

I'm sitting here trying to remember those days. They were dark days. As much I love summer, I often find myself in my darkest days during the most daylight filled hours of the year.

I'd lay in bed and try to think of all the things he did that annoyed me. Tried to justify why we were apart. I'd lay there and think I wasn't worthy of him anyhow. More justifying on my part. I'd think about how he'd brush my hair at night before we went to sleep. And I'd ache in my heart. I'd think about how he'd forgiven me for every wrong doing. And the tears would slide down my face and fall into my ears.

I'd think about his smile. His laugh. His hands. Oh, his hands. I'd think about his generosity. His desire to help anyone and everyone. Putting everyone before himself. Always.

I'd think of all the times he did the dishes. Washed his own clothes. Folded his own clothes and yes, put away his own clothes. He packed his own lunches. Made his own breakfast. And cleaned the house.

How in the world could he want me? Why in the world would he want me?

But he did. He does. For reasons that I'll never understand - this man loves me. He loved me then and he loves me now.

I'll never understand it.

However, I'll be forever grateful for it.

Happy Anniversary, love of my life. Thank you for loving me every day. Thank you for your patience with me as I continue to grow up. Thank you for believing in me. Thank you for the life you provide me. Thank you for understanding my addiction to Starbucks.

And thank you for brushing my hair at night.

Hello

It's been a bit since I've blogged.

I've been reading your posts. Just not writing my own.

I'll update later. Right now I have sleeping children so I'm going to sit down with a book and enjoy some peace and quiet.

xoxo,
Sarah

me

random stuff ya never cared to know...

i'm left-handed.

i love orange.

and red.

my hair is naturally curly.

and unnaturally frizzy.

i tan easily.

i love that.

my teeth are crooked.

i hate that.

i love to cook.

mostly i love to eat.

it shows.

i didn't get my first real job til i was 23. how lame was i?

i miss being a barista.

which reminds me, i love coffee.

i'm short. like 5'2" short.

i like it.

always thought i'd marry someone tall.

my husband is 5'8". ☺

growing up i wanted five kids.

then i had kids.

i love the rain. mostly the smell.

i need sunshine, though, or i go a lil loco.

i want another tattoo. i have two. but three is a better number. don'tcha think?

my next plane ride WILL BE to tennessee. oh yes it will.

i woke up at 1 am last night (this morning?) and couldn't sleep til 3 am. i decided to diet again. so today i only ate one cupcake instead of two. i should kick these 30 lbs in no time!

i weigh ten pounds more today than i did a year ago at this time. ho hum.

we're camping at mt. rainier this weekend and i've yet to pack, prepare, etc.

have i mentioned i procrastinate?

the worst ages of my life were 9, 23 and 24. you couldn't pay me enough to relive those years.

i really loved being 14, 15 and 16.. 5 was good too. and 25.

i love my birthday.

but i think you prolly already know that, huh?

in 30 minutes my husband will be home from work. he's going to wonder where his dinner is and why i haven't packed for camping.

think blogging is a good enough excuse?

the wednesday ramble of the crazy mama

It's 12:13 pm.

My girls are down for naps.

Spice is screaming her ever lovin' head off.

It's what she does.

It's just what she does.

I was told that by changing her foods and ridding her of all the things she's allergic to that she'd sleep better and her attitude would change.

Lies.

All of them lies!

Yesterday was a very bad day. I kept reminding myself of the words I wrote to myself.

And I kept thinking...

lies, all of them lies!

Supposedly these are the best years. Supposedly I'm going to miss this age they're in. Supposedly they grow out of the tears and the whining and the crying and the screaming and the hitting and the driving me crazy.

Supposedly.

(unless you're Joey, then it's supposebly)

The thing I wanna know though, if these are such precious years, why do I loathe them so? Why do I feel so defeated? Why do I feel like putting my head under the covers at 6:30 every morning in hopes they don't find me? If these are such precious years why do I go to bed crying almost every night because of something I said or didn't say? Something I did or didn't do? Why do I want to change my name from Mama to Princess Never Gonna Have Kids?

I'm not doing it right.

I'm failing at this mothering deal.

I'm pretty sure my last post was a bunch of BS.

I don't think I'm gonna be surviving the day, the week or the month. Heck, I'm not sure if I'm going to make it til dinner tonight.

I'm glad I haven't bought the Kindergarten curriculum for Sugar. Do I really think I'm going to be able to homeschool in the midst of this chaos? I should give the kid a break from all the screaming and hitting from her sister. Give 'er a backpack and put 'er on a bus!

Pfffft. Forget it. I'm gettin' myself a backpack and gettin' on a bus.

stat.

words i wish someone would tell me

Sometimes it'd be nice to have someone in your life who tells you what you need to hear.

Not what you want to hear but what you need to hear.

Right now, I don't have that someone. Maybe you don't either. So maybe these are words you need to hear, too.

This is only a season you're in. Seasons of life don't necessarily follow the seasons of weather. Just because it's summertime outside, does not mean it's summertime in your life; in your heart; in your marriage; in your parenting; or in your faith. But, just because you feel like you're in the deepest part of winter in so many areas of your life, don't give up.

Do you hear me?

Don't give up.

Your marriage is going to have its highs and lows. Your husband doesn't ask you out on dates not because you're unattractive or boring to be around but because he's a man and most of the time stuff like that slips their mind. He loves you. He just shows his love in his own way. Look for that way that he's showing you and enjoy it. You may need to take initiative and go the extra mile if you want time with him. I don't care if you're always the one to plan, plan some more.

The kids are wearing you out. You are counting the minutes until naptime and then counting the minutes until bedtime. This is just the way it is sometimes. But you ARE going to get through it. It's just not all happy, blissful, pretty and lovely every day. It can't be. You have to have those bad days so you can learn from them. Grow from them. And, so you can appreciate those good days even more.

The toddler will quit crying. Eventually. I'm not going to say it'll happen today, tomorrow or even next month. But she will eventually quit. She's going to get older and won't need you any less, she'll just need you in a different way. And, God will supply all your needs at that time, too.

Your little girl is changing. She's growing. Her birthday is coming and you're wondering where the years have gone. Did you love her enough, hold her enough, kiss her enough as a baby and toddler? Does she know how much you love her?

Yes.

You snuggle her and cuddle her still. You grab her and kiss her forehead, you smile at her, you tell her you're proud of her.

You're doing a good job.

Do you hear me?

You're doing a good job.

You haven't had a best friend in nearly a year. Those first weeks and months you weren't sure you'd survive the heartache. Some days, you still aren't sure. But, you're making it. You have friends who love you. Friends to call. Friends to email. Is it the same? No. But, "You don't ever have another best friend like that first one you have when you're old enough to know who you are in life." And that's okay. Memories are good. Pictures are good. They'll be enough.

You have to realize that as years go on and experiences are lived, you grow. You change. You move on and learn from those experiences. Sometimes you move on together and sometimes not. It doesn't mean you're a bad friend if the friendship ended. Enjoy the friendships you have now and stop dwelling on the friendship you miss.

Your house will always need something done to it. Always. You can get upset about it, fret about it, cuss about it. It won't change anything. Or, you can learn to love it no matter the state (of destruction) it's in. When the bare walls or studs or lack of floor drive you up the wall - choose to be thankful. After all, you have a house. Make it your home.

Things are going to be going well. Then you're going to hit a bump. Then temptation will rise. Cling to the Truth. And never, ever, ever look back. That grass, my friend...it isn't greener.

You don't have to decide right this minute if you're going to have more children. You're still young. The kids don't have to be such and such age apart. They can be two years, they can be 10 years. Just enjoy the children you do have in this moment.

You make excuses for not taking the time to read your Bible. Let me ask you this, are you being lazy? are you finding other - less useful ways - to spend your time? Do those dishes really have to be done right now? Do you really need to update your status on FB to let people know you're going to the grocery store? I'm guessing no. I'm guessing you're putting God off. I'm guessing He won't let you do that much longer. Just make the time. Five minutes reading your Bible and praying are better than ZERO minutes.

The dishwasher that's been broken since March? It's probably going to stay broken til next March. Your husband is busy. He's trying to make time for your children when he gets home from work. He's trying to get insulation put up in your kids' new room. You can do the dishes by hand. It's not going to kill you. Use that time to pray for your man, instead of feeling like you're not a priority since he hasn't fixed it yet.

Life is never going to be perfect. You're never going to have the perfect attitude all the time. Your hair will always be frizzy. You may never lose those 30 pounds. You'll never have it all together. The minute you think you do someone will fall and get hurt. Someone will throw a tempter tantrum. Someone will bring home three crusty coffee mugs from work for you to wash - by hand.

But, you're going to make it. You're going to make it through this day. You're going to make it through this week and this month.

You're going to grow from it. You're going to be stronger for it.

"We can rejoice, too, when we run into problems and trials, for we know that they help us develop endurance. And endurance develops strength of character, and character strenthens our confident hope of salvation. And this hope will not lead to disappointment. For we know how dearly God loves us, because he has given us the Holy Spirit to fill our hearts with his love." Romans 5:3-5

Love your husband. Love your children. Love your life.

Right now.

Right where you are.

The Best Day of the Rest of My Life (minus a tri-cities phone book)

I'm THIRTY!!!

I have just a few minutes to put this post together before Josh gets home but I want to at least write something, as today has been one of THE greatest days...BIRTHDAYS of my life.

It officially started on Saturday when a box filled with THIRTY.INDIVIDUALLY.WRAPPED presents showed up at my house! From Emily. I confess I opened ALL OF THEM!

Then Tuesday morning at 4:28 a.m. I had a mini heart attack.

Because two people clad in crazy hats walked into my home, handed me a hat of my own, blind-folded me and told me to come with them.

Thankfully I had the good sense to grab my hot pink robe.

So, my mom and sister drove me around, made me get out of the car (dressed in my hot pink robe and red granny hat) and took pictures of me (I'll post them some year).

While I was blind-folded.

And in my hot pink robe.

They took me to breakfast, then to coffee and then dumped me off at home where I was in a sleepy stupor for the rest of the day.

On Wednesday morning they showed up with doughnuts (yum) and a book for me! Then later in the day I got flowers from this amazing friend! I opened my mailbox to find a card from Linds (my bff from high school) that contained a Starbucks gift card, a card from my wonderful TN friend, Maria (she sent me a TN t-shirt a couple months ago!) and a homemade Dave Ramsey envelope system from my friend Kristie! Later in the day I received an email from eBay letting me know I had a gift certificate from Laura!

The day BEFORE my birthday was incredible!

Today my mom and sister watched my girls while I went to get my hair done.

And let me tell you, my party has not stopped!

At 8:10 this morning I was in line at Starbucks, I ordered my coffee and a cheese danish, went to pay for it, only to be told the woman in front of me bought my stuff! I nearly cried! I felt so blessed.

At 8:30 was my hair cut and color (which hasn't been done since August!) and the girl who does my hair brought me donuts from Starbucks. Then she hands me a Starbucks gift card that had been delivered earlier in the week by a friend of mine! I was freaking out. Feeling so blessed. When about 15 minutes later a woman walks in with the most beautiful arrangement of pink and white gerbera daisies that...get this...WERE FOR ME from my friend Melissa!

I had a Starbucks card and flowers delivered to me at the place where I get my hair done!!! It's been hours and this is still just incredible to me.

Then I come home, get on the computer and find this post from Linda. Talk about makin' a girl feel loved! My word!

Tonight I'm going out to dinner with my friend, Candee. We were friends in high school, in each other's weddings and then the jerk moved far, far away. Thankfully she just moved back! In time for my 30th birthday, I'm sure! Can't wait to spend some time with her.

I think I'll stay 30 forever.

(well, until my 31st birthday, I'm pretty excited for that one, too)