During school on Monday of last week, in Sugar's Health book she learned a little about mistakes. That everyone makes them.
And that sometimes we can fix them and sometimes we cannot.
We didn't know that it was a foreshadowing of the next day's events.
The girls and I had gone to TC for an appointment, I had planned to run several errands after the appointment but due to the pain I was in from my wisdom teeth extraction and the events at a certain store, we didn't run more than the one errand.
I wanted to stop at Craft Warehouse to load up on art supplies. We're putting goods in the cart, I'm on the phone with Josh telling him how the appointment went and then we check out and head home.
It's a 45 minute drive home and we're half way into the drive home when I look in the rear view mirror and see Spice (4) hand a little colored pebble to Sugar (7). A colored pebble that I know does not belong to us.
"Where did that come from?" I asked.
"Sugar got it." Spice pipes up.
Both girls look sheepish.
The pebble came from the craft store.
I didn't buy a pebble while I was there.
"Sugar, did you take that pebble?"
"Yes. It was on the floor."
I told her that that didn't matter. It wasn't ours. We didn't pay for it. I explained to her that she stole it. She took something that was not hers. And that she had to return it. Her eyes got panicky. Then the tears started to flow.
We were 20 miles from the craft store. 25 from home. And I just so wanted to be home.
But going home wasn't nearly as important as the life lesson we were about to experience.
We took the next exit on the freeway and turned around. As we drove back to the store I explained to her that when we got there we would go inside, she'd have to ask to see a manager and tell them what she did.
She cried the whole way back to the store and kept telling me she couldn't do it.
I explained that she wouldn't be alone. That I'd be right there with her. I asked if she remembered how we learned about mistakes. She nodded. I told her that just like the book said, sometimes we can fix our mistakes and that this was one of those times. She could right her wrong by confessing what she did and giving back the pebble.
It was a long walk across the parking lot.
We entered the store, asked for a manager and when he approached she thrust out her hand and said, "I stole this."
I asked if she had anything else she'd like to say.
"I'm sorry."
The guy was kind. He thanked her for giving it back. I asked him if there was anything else we needed to do and he shook his head.
We left the store and Sugar burst into tears again.
"Mama, Mama, I'm so sorry I did that." I hugged her and told her I forgave her.
It wasn't easy going back in there. For either of us. I had a kid who stole something, what does that say about me as a parent? And she had to confess to a grown up that she had taken something that wasn't hers.
Later I sent my mom a text. I thanked her for that day when I was little and had taken candy from the store and she made me take it back. I realized last week how hard that must have been for her to do. But I'm so thankful she did.
Being a kid is tough. Being a parent is tougher still.
Friday, October 05, 2012
Wednesday, October 03, 2012
to know my husband, is to be blessed by him
This post is just a glimpse into the heart of the man I'm married to...on his 35th birthday.
He likes to take care of everyone, do anything for anybody and fly under the radar while he's at it.
You hear the expression, "he'd give the shirt off his back" and you kinda take it as a metaphor.
My husband would literally give the shirt off his back if someone needed it. He'd give anything he had if it meant he was helping someone.
Who pulls his semi over in northern California during the winter time to help two women on the side of the road?
That'd be Josh.
One time we were headed to a friend's house to help them move and on the way there was a girl broke down on the side of the freeway. She was from Seattle, she was four hours from home. Josh loaded her and car up, we took her to our house for the night and took her and her car home the next day.
Who works a 14 hour day, comes home and gets on the floor to play CandyLand with his four year old?
Mhm...Joshua.
Another time Josh was over the road in his semi he came upon a guy his age in California. The guy was from Seattle and had left his wife and four stair-step kiddos 4 and under. Josh brought him to our house (we live in WA) gave him work, food and then reunited him with his family.
Who takes my crazy Pinterest ideas and puts them to action in the form of a swing outside?
My husband.
The neighbor kids come here when they have flat tires on their bikes, can't start their lawnmower, and once last summer one of them had a nail in his foot - asked Josh if he would take it out.
Our neighbors got in a car accident a few years ago and their Suburban had to be in the shop for a couple of months. So Josh gave them our '99 Suburban to use for as long as they needed.
Josh has always told me that though we don't have a ton, what we do have he feels blessed with and that there's no point in having the things we do if we're not going to use them to serve and help others.
There are countless stories of the ways he's taken care of his family, his friends and strangers.
I'm beyond blessed by Josh. I think anyone who knows him would say they are too.
If you wanna share something about Joshua, please feel free to leave a comment or email me. It'll totally embarrass him but what a fun birthday present, huh? Way better than the tools I got him for sure.
If you wanna share something about Joshua, please feel free to leave a comment or email me. It'll totally embarrass him but what a fun birthday present, huh? Way better than the tools I got him for sure.
Monday, October 01, 2012
Dreadlocks Saga
Saturday night I woke up around 2 in the morning and could not go back to sleep until 5.
Three hours awake with oneself in the middle of the night and you can solve a lot of the world's problems.
At least my little world's problems.
Of the 5,273 things I thought about in that amount of time, a conversation from a couple of years ago between Josh and me came to mind.
Me: What was the first thing you noticed about me when we met?
Him: Your hair. I really liked your hair.
And it was in that moment I realized I couldn't do dreads. (cue sigh of relief from about 99% of you)
Josh has basically resigned himself to the dreadlocks. But has never been supportive of the idea, and why would he? His favorite physical feature of mine is going - in his mind - to look nasty.
I laid there thinking, "but it's my hair. MY HAIR."
So I thought about my favorite physical feature of Josh's.
His hands.
{his back and those muscles on his back are a very close second}
{oooh, and his arms.}
I have always loved his hands. The nails are clipped just right but there is always, always grease under them. The lines in his hands are dark. And no matter how much he washes them, they always look worked.
They are rough, man hands.
And what if one day he decided to mar (and that seems such a strong word to use but best describes his feelings toward the dreads) his hands in such a way, because it was something he wanted to try out, resulting in my not liking them?
It would hurt my heart.
I have hurt that man's heart enough in our years of marriage. Sometimes accidentally. Sometimes purposefully.
I'm done hurting his heart on purpose.
For once I'm going to put his thoughts and feelings ahead of my own and I'm going to leave my hair alone.
Am I sad? You bet. But I'd feel worse doing something that made Josh sad.
Three hours awake with oneself in the middle of the night and you can solve a lot of the world's problems.
At least my little world's problems.
Of the 5,273 things I thought about in that amount of time, a conversation from a couple of years ago between Josh and me came to mind.
Me: What was the first thing you noticed about me when we met?
Him: Your hair. I really liked your hair.
And it was in that moment I realized I couldn't do dreads. (cue sigh of relief from about 99% of you)
Josh has basically resigned himself to the dreadlocks. But has never been supportive of the idea, and why would he? His favorite physical feature of mine is going - in his mind - to look nasty.
I laid there thinking, "but it's my hair. MY HAIR."
So I thought about my favorite physical feature of Josh's.
His hands.
{his back and those muscles on his back are a very close second}
{oooh, and his arms.}
I have always loved his hands. The nails are clipped just right but there is always, always grease under them. The lines in his hands are dark. And no matter how much he washes them, they always look worked.
They are rough, man hands.
And what if one day he decided to mar (and that seems such a strong word to use but best describes his feelings toward the dreads) his hands in such a way, because it was something he wanted to try out, resulting in my not liking them?
It would hurt my heart.
I have hurt that man's heart enough in our years of marriage. Sometimes accidentally. Sometimes purposefully.
I'm done hurting his heart on purpose.
For once I'm going to put his thoughts and feelings ahead of my own and I'm going to leave my hair alone.
Am I sad? You bet. But I'd feel worse doing something that made Josh sad.
Friday, September 28, 2012
I'm so over surgery
I had surgery in 2007. Twice. Within two weeks of each other.
Then I had surgery in 2011.
And then I had surgery last week. Last week's was just the surgery to remove my wisdom teeth but let me tell ya, it's been a doozie. I'm kind of over going under anesthesia and the knife.
I had to have all four removed. Only one was through about 60%.
The rest were cut and dug out.
Three have healed just fine. One, though, has been trying to kill me.
I went to Tri-Cities on Tuesday for an appointment and was going to do my grocery shopping and run errands but it was cut short due to the pain I was in, I just couldn't focus on the tasks I needed to get done.
Then I wake up yesterday morning and was actually in tears because the pain was so intense. Josh looked at me and said that I looked like the times I've come out my big surgeries. Death.
I have a high tolerance to pain but this has been getting to me. I ended up taking two of my pain meds throughout the day yesterday (none today, I'm toughing it out). This morning I called my dentist to see if he could see me and tell me if I've messed something up in there.
Bless his heart he took the time to see me.
Thankfully, everything looks great. I'm thinking it's the lack of "taking it easy" that the oral surgeon prescribed me.
How does a mother ever just "take it easy"? It isn't possible. Not really.
But yesterday I basically did nothing. Today I didn't do much either. We've gotten school done and have managed to keep the kitchen clean. Everything else has pretty much gone to pot.
So, you're welcome to come over, just pretty please bring dinner, some alcohol and clean my house while you're here.
Then I had surgery in 2011.
And then I had surgery last week. Last week's was just the surgery to remove my wisdom teeth but let me tell ya, it's been a doozie. I'm kind of over going under anesthesia and the knife.
I had to have all four removed. Only one was through about 60%.
The rest were cut and dug out.
Three have healed just fine. One, though, has been trying to kill me.
I went to Tri-Cities on Tuesday for an appointment and was going to do my grocery shopping and run errands but it was cut short due to the pain I was in, I just couldn't focus on the tasks I needed to get done.
Then I wake up yesterday morning and was actually in tears because the pain was so intense. Josh looked at me and said that I looked like the times I've come out my big surgeries. Death.
I have a high tolerance to pain but this has been getting to me. I ended up taking two of my pain meds throughout the day yesterday (none today, I'm toughing it out). This morning I called my dentist to see if he could see me and tell me if I've messed something up in there.
Bless his heart he took the time to see me.
Thankfully, everything looks great. I'm thinking it's the lack of "taking it easy" that the oral surgeon prescribed me.
How does a mother ever just "take it easy"? It isn't possible. Not really.
But yesterday I basically did nothing. Today I didn't do much either. We've gotten school done and have managed to keep the kitchen clean. Everything else has pretty much gone to pot.
So, you're welcome to come over, just pretty please bring dinner, some alcohol and clean my house while you're here.
Tuesday, September 25, 2012
The day we moved our deck.
This post deserves pictures. Lots of pictures. But I currently don't have any. So you get words. And it's early and I haven't had a full cup of coffee and there will probably be even more run on sentences than normal.
Josh didn't have to go to work yesterday because he has to work Saturday. We were talking about all the things we needed to get done or wanted to get done for the day and for some reason I blurted out, "I wish our deck was on the east side of the house, so I can have a front porch."
Many of you know, but some of you may not, my issues with front doors. I like to know where the door is of every place I'm going to. Houses, places of business, etc. So when we looked at this place 13 years ago, one of the biggest complaints I had was that when you pull up you don't really know where the front door is. I've seen people walk all the way around our house to the backyard and come up to the back door before.
I hate that feeling when I'm that person looking for the door.
Side note: Last week I was meeting friends for Monday Night Football, I was going to be a few minutes late and I get a text saying, "in the bar, first table on the right when you walk in."
This is a friend who gets my issues. I laughed at the text but was so thankful.
(side note was just to show how awesome my friends are and to help you understand my issues.)
Back to the door at our house.
Our front door faces east. Faces a carport. When you pull up to our house, you see the north side of it (but you're facing south) so you don't see the front door. And there's not really a porch so you just can't tell where you're supposed to go.
It drives me crazy.
Plus, no porch to decorate all cute and welcoming.
So I blurt out that I want our deck on the other side of the house and Josh grabs his tape measure and says it'll fit.
And seven hours, some ratchet straps, jack stands, a flatbed trailer, and a whole lot of head scratching later, it's moved around our house. It was dark when we finally got it to the front of the house so the neighbors didn't see it last night. Can't imagine what they're going to think in a few minutes when they head outside to leave for work and our deck is sitting in our driveway on the flatbed.
It's hilarious.
And so redneck.
I love that Josh just does.
I love that he can do anything.
I love that any idea I give him, any dream I have about our house, he makes it happen.
Yes, we have a kitchen that needs to be finished. Yes, we have two rigs in our driveway with engine issues. Yes, there's a whole lot of other stuff that could have been done yesterday.
We just chose to do something else instead. And I've found when Josh has a break from what he has to do, to do something he wants to do, it energizes him. It pumps him up for the projects he knows he needs to get done.
So the kitchen and the engines, they got pushed back a day, but he'll get to those too.
While I decorate my new front porch.
Josh didn't have to go to work yesterday because he has to work Saturday. We were talking about all the things we needed to get done or wanted to get done for the day and for some reason I blurted out, "I wish our deck was on the east side of the house, so I can have a front porch."
Many of you know, but some of you may not, my issues with front doors. I like to know where the door is of every place I'm going to. Houses, places of business, etc. So when we looked at this place 13 years ago, one of the biggest complaints I had was that when you pull up you don't really know where the front door is. I've seen people walk all the way around our house to the backyard and come up to the back door before.
I hate that feeling when I'm that person looking for the door.
Side note: Last week I was meeting friends for Monday Night Football, I was going to be a few minutes late and I get a text saying, "in the bar, first table on the right when you walk in."
This is a friend who gets my issues. I laughed at the text but was so thankful.
(side note was just to show how awesome my friends are and to help you understand my issues.)
Back to the door at our house.
Our front door faces east. Faces a carport. When you pull up to our house, you see the north side of it (but you're facing south) so you don't see the front door. And there's not really a porch so you just can't tell where you're supposed to go.
It drives me crazy.
Plus, no porch to decorate all cute and welcoming.
So I blurt out that I want our deck on the other side of the house and Josh grabs his tape measure and says it'll fit.
And seven hours, some ratchet straps, jack stands, a flatbed trailer, and a whole lot of head scratching later, it's moved around our house. It was dark when we finally got it to the front of the house so the neighbors didn't see it last night. Can't imagine what they're going to think in a few minutes when they head outside to leave for work and our deck is sitting in our driveway on the flatbed.
It's hilarious.
And so redneck.
I love that Josh just does.
I love that he can do anything.
I love that any idea I give him, any dream I have about our house, he makes it happen.
Yes, we have a kitchen that needs to be finished. Yes, we have two rigs in our driveway with engine issues. Yes, there's a whole lot of other stuff that could have been done yesterday.
We just chose to do something else instead. And I've found when Josh has a break from what he has to do, to do something he wants to do, it energizes him. It pumps him up for the projects he knows he needs to get done.
So the kitchen and the engines, they got pushed back a day, but he'll get to those too.
While I decorate my new front porch.
Friday, September 21, 2012
I'm gonna be me...dreadfully me.
"This is so you."
"I saw this shirt and knew it was you."
"I don't like it, you probably do though, huh?"
"This just says, 'Sarah' all over it."
I've heard these words a lot since I was a teenager from family and friends. And a lot in the last few years. Stuff that I like is different from stuff that "normal" people like. I don't just have one style. Most of what I like is off. Or random. I mix it up. I'm a country girl who likes Wrangler butts (love that my husband wears 'em everyday) but I'm also the girl who buys a Mexican head to replace her family picture on an end table. I love bright colors and I love muted tones. I love whimsical clothes and I love prom dresses. I'm drawn to country decor and modern too. But the decor in my house right now is neither. It's a mix of hand me downs and thrift store finds with a little Ikea and Pier 1.
I like what I like. And usually what I like, another person will not. I'm okay with it. But it's taken me a long time to get to this point.
When I was 16 and dating Eric, he and I drove up to Safeway (the old one in GV) and when we pulled into the parking spot, in front of the store was a girl wearing clothes that reminded me of how Ellen Degeneres dressed back in the mid 90s. Baggyish bottoms, button down shirt, Vans.
This girl was beautiful. Simple. Dark, almond shaped eyes. Thin.
And she'd shaved her head. Not scalp shaved but not much longer.
I told Eric, "I'm doing that. I love her hair." Or lack there of... He just took my hand and we went into the grocery store and I'm not sure what he bought me, but most likely candy.
After Safeway, we went back to his house and we walk in and his dad is home.
"Hey, Dad. Guess what. Sarah's gonna shave 'er head." I coulda hit him. In fact, I probably did.
Pat looks me dead on and says, "You shave your head, I'm not taking you on vacation with us." The vacation we were to leave on in just a couple of weeks.
And if you know Pat, you know that look. That tone of voice. And at the time I was closer to him than my own dad and what he said - went.
So I didn't shave my head before vacation and I never ended up shaving it after vacation. I spent most of the summer of 1996 under their roof so I kept my hair to keep my relationship with Pat.
side note: I miss Pat and Sharlene, and my time spent in their home.
During high school I wasn't the girl who cared about her hair. Most of the time I'd shower, let it dry and stick the frizzy mess in a pony. My hair wasn't straight, nor was it curly. It was just plain dirty dish water blonde and I wasn't a fan.
I don't know what happened but in my early 20s my hair completely changed. It got curly. And then I chopped it and it got even curlier and I was in love. Besides my natural frizz (contain your jealousy) I really like my hair. It's easy. I get out of the shower, put my hair in a t-shirt for 45 minutes and then call it good.
But for several years there's been another hairstyle I love. One that isn't too popular. And geez has it caused an uproar lately as I've posted to FB what I want to do.
I'm sure there aren't many people who look at this picture the way that I do, but when I first found it on Pinterest, it made me catch my breath. It's beautiful and free and
and me.
I've been so fascinated and drawn to dreads since I was about 14 or so.
But even more so now.
I'm not someone who researches stuff. If I like something I buy it. I'm an impulsive person.
However, I've decided to start researching dreadlocks and the more I read, the more fascinated I've become.
There are a lot of misconceptions about dreads. The main reason I haven't done them sooner is that I had heard that when you were done with them, to get them out, you had to shave your head. And while a shaved head is what I wanted at 16, it's not really the look I'm going for at 32.
So, contrary to popular belief, you do not have to shave your head when you're through with them. But it will take a vat of conditioner and a patient friend to comb them out.
The site I've been reading at is here in case you're interested.
I've started prepping my scalp by not washing my hair the last couple of days. I'll wash it every three days for the next month or so while I wait for the products I'm going to order.
When asked why I'd want to do this, my answer is simple. I just do. I love how it looks. Whenever I see someone with dreads, I'm drawn to them.
And lately another reason I want them is to kill the stereotype that so many seem to have about dreads. That a person is dirty, that they smell. Sure there are folks with dirty dreads but there's folks without dreads with nasty hair. Right? Right. I'm still going to shower. I'm still going to wash my hair.
I'm still going to be me.
And in the midst of less than encouraging words, I was thrilled to see this text today from Treena, my sister-in-law:
"Honestly...I like them and I can see you in them. I know you and I know you will do them."
Thank you.
I'm not 100% sure this is happening, as Josh is not 100% on board. But I'm prepping my hair just in case.
And I'm getting pretty stoked.
"I saw this shirt and knew it was you."
"I don't like it, you probably do though, huh?"
"This just says, 'Sarah' all over it."
I've heard these words a lot since I was a teenager from family and friends. And a lot in the last few years. Stuff that I like is different from stuff that "normal" people like. I don't just have one style. Most of what I like is off. Or random. I mix it up. I'm a country girl who likes Wrangler butts (love that my husband wears 'em everyday) but I'm also the girl who buys a Mexican head to replace her family picture on an end table. I love bright colors and I love muted tones. I love whimsical clothes and I love prom dresses. I'm drawn to country decor and modern too. But the decor in my house right now is neither. It's a mix of hand me downs and thrift store finds with a little Ikea and Pier 1.
I like what I like. And usually what I like, another person will not. I'm okay with it. But it's taken me a long time to get to this point.
When I was 16 and dating Eric, he and I drove up to Safeway (the old one in GV) and when we pulled into the parking spot, in front of the store was a girl wearing clothes that reminded me of how Ellen Degeneres dressed back in the mid 90s. Baggyish bottoms, button down shirt, Vans.
This girl was beautiful. Simple. Dark, almond shaped eyes. Thin.
And she'd shaved her head. Not scalp shaved but not much longer.
I told Eric, "I'm doing that. I love her hair." Or lack there of... He just took my hand and we went into the grocery store and I'm not sure what he bought me, but most likely candy.
After Safeway, we went back to his house and we walk in and his dad is home.
"Hey, Dad. Guess what. Sarah's gonna shave 'er head." I coulda hit him. In fact, I probably did.
Pat looks me dead on and says, "You shave your head, I'm not taking you on vacation with us." The vacation we were to leave on in just a couple of weeks.
And if you know Pat, you know that look. That tone of voice. And at the time I was closer to him than my own dad and what he said - went.
So I didn't shave my head before vacation and I never ended up shaving it after vacation. I spent most of the summer of 1996 under their roof so I kept my hair to keep my relationship with Pat.
side note: I miss Pat and Sharlene, and my time spent in their home.
During high school I wasn't the girl who cared about her hair. Most of the time I'd shower, let it dry and stick the frizzy mess in a pony. My hair wasn't straight, nor was it curly. It was just plain dirty dish water blonde and I wasn't a fan.
I don't know what happened but in my early 20s my hair completely changed. It got curly. And then I chopped it and it got even curlier and I was in love. Besides my natural frizz (contain your jealousy) I really like my hair. It's easy. I get out of the shower, put my hair in a t-shirt for 45 minutes and then call it good.
But for several years there's been another hairstyle I love. One that isn't too popular. And geez has it caused an uproar lately as I've posted to FB what I want to do.
I'm sure there aren't many people who look at this picture the way that I do, but when I first found it on Pinterest, it made me catch my breath. It's beautiful and free and
and me.
I've been so fascinated and drawn to dreads since I was about 14 or so.
But even more so now.
I'm not someone who researches stuff. If I like something I buy it. I'm an impulsive person.
However, I've decided to start researching dreadlocks and the more I read, the more fascinated I've become.
There are a lot of misconceptions about dreads. The main reason I haven't done them sooner is that I had heard that when you were done with them, to get them out, you had to shave your head. And while a shaved head is what I wanted at 16, it's not really the look I'm going for at 32.
So, contrary to popular belief, you do not have to shave your head when you're through with them. But it will take a vat of conditioner and a patient friend to comb them out.
The site I've been reading at is here in case you're interested.
I've started prepping my scalp by not washing my hair the last couple of days. I'll wash it every three days for the next month or so while I wait for the products I'm going to order.
When asked why I'd want to do this, my answer is simple. I just do. I love how it looks. Whenever I see someone with dreads, I'm drawn to them.
And lately another reason I want them is to kill the stereotype that so many seem to have about dreads. That a person is dirty, that they smell. Sure there are folks with dirty dreads but there's folks without dreads with nasty hair. Right? Right. I'm still going to shower. I'm still going to wash my hair.
I'm still going to be me.
And in the midst of less than encouraging words, I was thrilled to see this text today from Treena, my sister-in-law:
"Honestly...I like them and I can see you in them. I know you and I know you will do them."
Thank you.
I'm not 100% sure this is happening, as Josh is not 100% on board. But I'm prepping my hair just in case.
And I'm getting pretty stoked.
Monday, September 17, 2012
Pinterest Life vs. Real Life
I'm a big fan of Pinterest. Big. You can follow me here if you'd like.
Pinterest makes everyone's lives look so glamorous. Or maybe everyone's lives, but mine, are glamorous.
I've always tried to "keep it real" here on my blog and today is no different. I thought it'd be funny to show Pinterest's version of three different life events and my version of those same events.
Number One: Engagement/Save the Date Photos {Pinterest Version}
This couple is super adorable. I'm guessing mid to late 20s, they're done with college and they've got it all together.
Who doesn't get engaged at 17 and use their prom pictures as their engagement photos?! Okay, so we didn't use the prom pics as engagement pics but we could have! Seriously. 17. Engaged. (whole nother blog post) While the couple in the first photo is probably most concerned about mortgages and careers, I'm just hoping I'm going to get my high school diploma!
Yes, folks. That's yours truly. About one week before giving birth. Yes, I went to Safeway looking like that. No, I didn't know that my belly was showing underneath. I'm a hot mess. Also, didn't know I had stretch marks until a few days before this when my sister pointed them out. Thanks, Meg.
Pinterest makes everyone's lives look so glamorous. Or maybe everyone's lives, but mine, are glamorous.
I've always tried to "keep it real" here on my blog and today is no different. I thought it'd be funny to show Pinterest's version of three different life events and my version of those same events.
Number One: Engagement/Save the Date Photos {Pinterest Version}
 |
| Source: Pinterest |
Engagement/Save the Date Photos {My Real Life Version}
.JPG) |
| Source: A cute little frame in my house |
Next...
Does this girl not have the cutest pregnant belly? In her size two jeans. I admit it, I'm envious. My jeans are unbuttoned too right now but that's because I ate a candy bar and two slices of pizza for lunch. With a beer.
Number Two: Maternity Pictures {Pinterest Version}
 |
| Source: Klicken Photos via Pinterest |
Maternity Pictures {My Real Life Version}
.JPG) |
| Source: My scrapbook |
I'm so glad Pinterest wasn't around when I was pregnant because I would have wondered why I was the only pregnant chick with cankles, stretch marks and EEE boobs.
And finally...
Number Three: Gender Reveal Invitations/Parties {Pinterest Version}
Quite a few of my friends are pregnant right now and they are pinning some of the most fun gender reveal ideas!
 |
| Source: Pizzazzerie.com via Pinterest |
Out of all the ones I've seen lately, this one is probably my fave. Love the mustache and lips. So cool.
Gender Reveal Invitations/Parties {My Real Life Version}
The gender reveal parties for my girls were in the delivery room. Pretty sure not even my husband was thrilled to see those gender reveals.
You're welcome for not receiving an invite to that party.
Tuesday, September 11, 2012
this that and some other
I started a post on "Mommy Guilt" and quickly got rid of it. The post, not the guilt.
I've decided to purchase a cow on my next to trip to the grocery store to keep up with all the butter and cream that is required to make the Pioneer Woman's recipes.
My kids aren't napping anymore.
I just died a little bit admitting that.
I was encouraging a friend today to not believe lies that can sometimes fill our heads (either words we think up or are said to us) when all of a sudden I was hit with the reminder of being told, "you're a fat, selfish, snob" and I had to quickly remind myself that those words are lies. They were then. They are now.
I just slammed my girls' bedroom door. Because I'm mad. Whew. Glad I got that off my chest.
At a stop sign a coupla days ago Spice says, "it's clear, Mama!" so I go. And then she says, "Mama, what's 'clear' mean?" I laughed so hard. Good thing I'd checked and knew that it actually was clear.
Saturday night Josh and I came home from a wedding, started a fire in the woodstove out on the deck, turned up my dad's 1970's Kenwood stereo, grabbed a beer (or 2) made some popcorn and danced and sang with our girls. It was one of my favorite nights of the summer.
I have a terrible memory. I remember the most random stuff, usually numbers, but I never remember important stuff. Like my childhood. I was talking to Josh about it the other day and there's just so little I remember. Bugs me.
Clifford just meowed. He wants outside.
Amber and I are going to collaborate on a book with letters to future selves. Letters to us as the mothers of adult daughters. To remind us of the types of mothers-of-adult-daughters we want to be. We'll likely be the only ones to read it but that's okay. I will read and re-read that bad girl so that I am the type of mama my girls want to be around and come to for advice or just to talk or sit or whatever with when they are adult women.
I'm having my wisdom teeth out soon.
I've been baking up a storm lately. Not sure what my deal is. I wore my apron to the grocery store by accident last week. To be honest I'm more embarrassed about the apron in public than the prom dress. Maybe because the apron was an accident and the prom dress so wasn't.
I'm putting us back on a budget. Which means less driving around. Less spending. Less being fun.
I overhead Sugar say to Spice, "let's pretend we're sisters and we like each other." To some it would be funny. For me it hits too close to home.
We started school yesterday. Can ya tell?
The other night my sister and BIL were over and the kids were playing. Spice hit her head on the coffee table and started to cry. I picked her up to check her over and Jerry said, "she's bleeding." Sure enough there was a lot of blood. I panicked. I looked at Meg and said, "what do I do?" She grabbed Spice and said, "you give her to me."
Megan and Jerry both used to volunteer with a local fire department and both are trained for situations like this and I was so glad they were there.
It was amazing to see my sister in action. She took Spice, set her on the counter, looked it over and determined that while it was deep, she was fine. I would have been fuhlipping out had they not been there. We put pressure on it and within no time the bleeding had stopped. I would have rushed that kid to the ER for stitches. She was her chipper little self within the hour and has been just fine. I haven't been able to brush her hair though because some of it is stuck in the scab. Yum, huh? You're welcome.
Josh put in a 14 hour day yesterday. I love that he's not lazy. He never complains but is always saying he's so thankful for his job. I love that he's a hard worker. I love that he doesn't expect or depend on anyone else to provide for our family.
That's hot.
I've decided to purchase a cow on my next to trip to the grocery store to keep up with all the butter and cream that is required to make the Pioneer Woman's recipes.
My kids aren't napping anymore.
I just died a little bit admitting that.
I was encouraging a friend today to not believe lies that can sometimes fill our heads (either words we think up or are said to us) when all of a sudden I was hit with the reminder of being told, "you're a fat, selfish, snob" and I had to quickly remind myself that those words are lies. They were then. They are now.
I just slammed my girls' bedroom door. Because I'm mad. Whew. Glad I got that off my chest.
At a stop sign a coupla days ago Spice says, "it's clear, Mama!" so I go. And then she says, "Mama, what's 'clear' mean?" I laughed so hard. Good thing I'd checked and knew that it actually was clear.
Saturday night Josh and I came home from a wedding, started a fire in the woodstove out on the deck, turned up my dad's 1970's Kenwood stereo, grabbed a beer (or 2) made some popcorn and danced and sang with our girls. It was one of my favorite nights of the summer.
I have a terrible memory. I remember the most random stuff, usually numbers, but I never remember important stuff. Like my childhood. I was talking to Josh about it the other day and there's just so little I remember. Bugs me.
Clifford just meowed. He wants outside.
Amber and I are going to collaborate on a book with letters to future selves. Letters to us as the mothers of adult daughters. To remind us of the types of mothers-of-adult-daughters we want to be. We'll likely be the only ones to read it but that's okay. I will read and re-read that bad girl so that I am the type of mama my girls want to be around and come to for advice or just to talk or sit or whatever with when they are adult women.
I'm having my wisdom teeth out soon.
I've been baking up a storm lately. Not sure what my deal is. I wore my apron to the grocery store by accident last week. To be honest I'm more embarrassed about the apron in public than the prom dress. Maybe because the apron was an accident and the prom dress so wasn't.
I'm putting us back on a budget. Which means less driving around. Less spending. Less being fun.
I overhead Sugar say to Spice, "let's pretend we're sisters and we like each other." To some it would be funny. For me it hits too close to home.
We started school yesterday. Can ya tell?
The other night my sister and BIL were over and the kids were playing. Spice hit her head on the coffee table and started to cry. I picked her up to check her over and Jerry said, "she's bleeding." Sure enough there was a lot of blood. I panicked. I looked at Meg and said, "what do I do?" She grabbed Spice and said, "you give her to me."
Megan and Jerry both used to volunteer with a local fire department and both are trained for situations like this and I was so glad they were there.
It was amazing to see my sister in action. She took Spice, set her on the counter, looked it over and determined that while it was deep, she was fine. I would have been fuhlipping out had they not been there. We put pressure on it and within no time the bleeding had stopped. I would have rushed that kid to the ER for stitches. She was her chipper little self within the hour and has been just fine. I haven't been able to brush her hair though because some of it is stuck in the scab. Yum, huh? You're welcome.
Josh put in a 14 hour day yesterday. I love that he's not lazy. He never complains but is always saying he's so thankful for his job. I love that he's a hard worker. I love that he doesn't expect or depend on anyone else to provide for our family.
That's hot.
Monday, September 10, 2012
We're a lot of things but mostly we're a good time
Have you heard about the Taylor Bridge fire?
The fire broke out on August 13th and burned over 23,000 acres and destroyed over 60 homes. It took over 16 days to contain and over 1,000 firefighters. (be still my heart)
A few weeks ago my friend Jessica linked to a fun run fundraiser for the Red Cross, with donations going to those affected by the Taylor Bridge fire.
I signed myself up and told Amber we should do it together.
In our prom dresses.
She agreed. Signed up. And for the last couple of weeks we've had banter back and forth on FB or texting talking about this 5K (3ish miles) that we'd be doing in our prom dresses. We've had friends comment, some disbelieving we'd really do it, laughing with and at us. We've had friends not comment at all, believing - with eyes rolled - that we would.
It's best to not doubt our ridiculousness.
It knows no bounds.
Saturday morning I woke at 5 with a bit of anxiety. The anxiety wasn't over the running of three miles in a prom dress, it was over wondering what people were thinking of us.
I woke Josh up and asked him if we were stupid. Like, stupid stupid. (I know we're silly stupid)
He says, "no, you guys are fun. And you're putting the fun in fundraiser."
I laid back down and thought a lot about it. About what you might be thinking of me. Of us. And our silly prom dresses.
It ends with me not caring.
But it started this way:
You might think us irresponsible. But does irresponsible work 40+ hours per week to raise two kids on your own? Because that's what Amber does. Does irresponsible homeschool and keep house for a family of four? Because that's what I do.
If so, yes, we're irresponsible.
You might be thinking we're 32 and need to grow up.
To that I say, see above. We're grown ups. We're just really fun grown ups. There's so much seriousness to our lives. There's drama we'd rather not have. There's junk we'd rather not be dealing with. So if we have the opportunity bring some excitement, silliness and fun to it - you bet we're gonna do that.
After seeing our dresses (they're strapless) many people were concerned how we'd run without the dresses falling down. Do you really think we'd run with dresses falling off? C'mon. Give us a little credit. I had joked that we were finally going to be famous if those dresses came down. Fully knowing they were not going to fall down (and that my fame will have to come another way, dang it). Rest assured, the dresses kept us covered at all times. Much to some people's relief
Loosen up.
Have some fun.
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Do something silly out of your comfort zone.
Like run 3 miles in a prom dress for a fundraiser.
We like to have fun. We like to be silly. We like to make other people laugh.
So laugh with or at us all you want.
Just don't be judgey.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
It's my best friend's birthday
I was reading some of my blog posts from a couple of years back and found one from when Amber and I were on our "break". This isn't really a time that we talk about. Like, ever. I don't know about for her but for me that was a really painful time and I'd just rather not re-live it. Why bring it up if we don't need to?
Anyway. Since we don't talk about that time, we don't have a name for that time so I'm just going to say it was during our break that I had written this post. And in the post I'm talking about how I don't have a best friend and I remember writing it and how much it hurt to say those words. Yeah, sometimes as I'm typing I'll say the words aloud.
Saying, "Right now I don't have a best friend" is freaking painful.
I remember the ache. I remember the hurt. I remember just wanting to reach out to her but not knowing how. The longer that you let things go, the harder it is. I wish I'd reached out to her the very next day and apologized. Maybe it woulda helped. Maybe it wouldn't have. Maybe we needed that year to grow separately.
I don't know.
I just know that God has reasons for stuff, allows stuff to happen and I'm not going to regret that time or mourn that time, I just rejoice that it's over. I'm thankful that I've had her back in my life for the last two years and I know that I never ever wanna be without her again.
"but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother." Proverbs 18:24
Amber has been that for me. She's been closer to me than family. She's was there during the whole appendicitis/cancer surgery and morning sickness, my postpartum crazy, and my days when I wanna just up and leave the world.
She gets me and loves me.
Sometimes I wonder if she stays close to me just for my husband. It's no secret that the day I die is the day she moves in. It's sort of a joke.
But mostly it isn't. I asked Josh if he was okay with Amber moving in after I kick the bucket and he says, "do I have a choice?" He just knows. She'll be here.
Besides Josh, Amber is probably one of the least selfish people I know. You need something, she's there. I'm the type of person that I want someone to tell me what they need from me so I can do it. Amber's the girl who gets in there and just does.
She does the dishes, she loves on the kids, she brings the coffee, she sits and listens, she makes inappropriate jokes.
She makes me happy.
Our former yoga instructor told me a few weeks ago, and I kid you not, these were his exact words, "you guys would make great lesbians, you love each other so much."
I loved it. It's true. We do love each other so much.
I love that we can get in the car and have no destination, we just know to turn up the radio and drive. I love that Thursdays mean yoga and Bern's. We work our butts off for an hour and then go drink a beer and we catch up on the week and interrupt each other and laugh at each other and get pissed with each other. I love that we joke about skipping class and going just straight for beer but we don't do it because we love yoga just as much.
I love that we go to Ross and pull every ridiculous prom dress off the hangers, try them on in the dressing room, take pictures and then post them to FB to display our ridiculousness. I love that we bought the last ones. I love that we've signed up for a 5K and we're going to wear them while we run.
I love that we both have issues with being on time for stuff. And on time equals 15 minutes early. For everything. Always.
When someone isn't nice to me on FB I know that all I have to do is tell Amber and she'll fix it. She always has the right comeback. The right words. And she's not afraid to use 'em. Where I'm the chickenshit, she's the brave one.
She's raised two fantastic daughters. I love how well they play with my girls. I love that her 11 year old is sassier and smarter than us already. Though it does worry me...
I love that Amber calls Josh "our husband" because that's what he is. He'd do anything for her.
"What did we do before Amber?" Is a line Josh has said many times.
I don't know. I don't ever wanna know.
Happy Birthday, Amber. 32 is our year, chick. We're gonna get it together.
Anyway. Since we don't talk about that time, we don't have a name for that time so I'm just going to say it was during our break that I had written this post. And in the post I'm talking about how I don't have a best friend and I remember writing it and how much it hurt to say those words. Yeah, sometimes as I'm typing I'll say the words aloud.
Saying, "Right now I don't have a best friend" is freaking painful.
I remember the ache. I remember the hurt. I remember just wanting to reach out to her but not knowing how. The longer that you let things go, the harder it is. I wish I'd reached out to her the very next day and apologized. Maybe it woulda helped. Maybe it wouldn't have. Maybe we needed that year to grow separately.
I don't know.
I just know that God has reasons for stuff, allows stuff to happen and I'm not going to regret that time or mourn that time, I just rejoice that it's over. I'm thankful that I've had her back in my life for the last two years and I know that I never ever wanna be without her again.
"but there is a friend who sticks closer than a brother." Proverbs 18:24
Amber has been that for me. She's been closer to me than family. She's was there during the whole appendicitis/cancer surgery and morning sickness, my postpartum crazy, and my days when I wanna just up and leave the world.
She gets me and loves me.
Sometimes I wonder if she stays close to me just for my husband. It's no secret that the day I die is the day she moves in. It's sort of a joke.
But mostly it isn't. I asked Josh if he was okay with Amber moving in after I kick the bucket and he says, "do I have a choice?" He just knows. She'll be here.
Besides Josh, Amber is probably one of the least selfish people I know. You need something, she's there. I'm the type of person that I want someone to tell me what they need from me so I can do it. Amber's the girl who gets in there and just does.
She does the dishes, she loves on the kids, she brings the coffee, she sits and listens, she makes inappropriate jokes.
She makes me happy.
Our former yoga instructor told me a few weeks ago, and I kid you not, these were his exact words, "you guys would make great lesbians, you love each other so much."
I loved it. It's true. We do love each other so much.
I love that we can get in the car and have no destination, we just know to turn up the radio and drive. I love that Thursdays mean yoga and Bern's. We work our butts off for an hour and then go drink a beer and we catch up on the week and interrupt each other and laugh at each other and get pissed with each other. I love that we joke about skipping class and going just straight for beer but we don't do it because we love yoga just as much.
I love that we go to Ross and pull every ridiculous prom dress off the hangers, try them on in the dressing room, take pictures and then post them to FB to display our ridiculousness. I love that we bought the last ones. I love that we've signed up for a 5K and we're going to wear them while we run.
I love that we both have issues with being on time for stuff. And on time equals 15 minutes early. For everything. Always.
When someone isn't nice to me on FB I know that all I have to do is tell Amber and she'll fix it. She always has the right comeback. The right words. And she's not afraid to use 'em. Where I'm the chickenshit, she's the brave one.
She's raised two fantastic daughters. I love how well they play with my girls. I love that her 11 year old is sassier and smarter than us already. Though it does worry me...
I love that Amber calls Josh "our husband" because that's what he is. He'd do anything for her.
"What did we do before Amber?" Is a line Josh has said many times.
I don't know. I don't ever wanna know.
 |
| you don't ever have another best friend like that first one you have when you know who you are in life. |
In our prom dresses.
I love you.
Thursday, August 23, 2012
Thursday Random
i'm finally finding the decorating me. no. i cannot decorate. but i'm finding, finally, what i like. and it's a lot of color and maybe a lot of color that doesn't necessarily go together and i'm sure anyone who comes over after i've finished doing what i want to do to the place will think i've lost any marbles i may have had.
i have zero sense of style. zero. i don't know how to put anything together. i'm always asking my friend Melissa if i can put such and such together. thank God she can put stuff together.
we did not keep up with school throughout the summer the way i intended. this doesn't bother me in the slightest. it did. now it does not. i ordered books yesterday for Spice who just turned four in may. she'll start some kindergarten work, not because i'm pushing (i learned with my first one, don't push - wait for your kid to show interest) but because the kid loves to sit and write and i think it will be fabulous for her. we'll be starting with Get Ready for the Code, Book A. for Sugar, we'll finish up last year's books and move on to this year's books. i asked Josh if he was concerned that we hadn't finished last year's. "nope." talked with another homeschool mom friend of mine who has kids older than mine and she tells me they've never finished a book. oh the relief to know life doesn't end if a book isn't finished.
i'm thinking school will start on Sept. 10.
i read on Pinterest the other day that putting eucalyptus oil (or Vick's) on the bottom of your feet stops coughing. Spice came home from Mt. Rainier with a cold and i rubbed it into her feet before bed, put socks on her, and she slept through the night without a cough. sweet deal!
i rushed my cat to the vet the other day because his cheek was swollen and his eye was watery. my kids can be puking, fevery, rashy, and i don't take them in. but Clifford?! it's just nothing ever happens to Cliff. Cliff happens to everything else. he's fine. they shaved part of his face, he just stood there. they gave him a shot, he just stood there. never has there been a more laid back cat. i love that dude.
til 4 am when he's standing on my chest meowing in my face because he wants out.
watched where the red fern grows the other night.
the end of the movie, the mama said, "i guess God doesn't want families separated."
no. no, He doesn't.
sometimes that's in our control. sometimes we can choose our family to be whole and we opt not to.
and other times it is out of our control and all we can do is rest assured God's got us covered.
i've seen both lately. both hurt my heart.
there was a hailstorm here recently, i dunno a few weeks ago or so. just got the quote back for the damage on my van. 4 grand! crazy, huh? we have a $500 deductible and i don't really feel like shelling that money out to have the van fixed. it's not a big deal to me. i don't know why i even took it in in the first place.
speaking of my van, i took that bad girl apart the other day. i took my seats out and you know those little runners where all the fishy crackers and McDonald's fries go to live forever? i took those runners off and i vacuumed and i vacuumed some more. she looks new again. i have to mix it up with my van. make her feel new so i don't wanna go out and buy a new rig. it's so hard. i love me a new car. we have no debt. no car payments. no credit cards. a ridiculously low mortgage payment. we could afford a new car. well, we could afford PAYMENTS on a new car. but it's not gonna happen. we've agreed to never put ourselves in that position again. the next "new" car i get will be used and paid for with cash. like 20 years from now.
today is thursday and that means yoga and Bern's.
and yoga and Bern's makes my heart happy.
oh. and my mom is moving back from Vegas. so there's that.
i have zero sense of style. zero. i don't know how to put anything together. i'm always asking my friend Melissa if i can put such and such together. thank God she can put stuff together.
we did not keep up with school throughout the summer the way i intended. this doesn't bother me in the slightest. it did. now it does not. i ordered books yesterday for Spice who just turned four in may. she'll start some kindergarten work, not because i'm pushing (i learned with my first one, don't push - wait for your kid to show interest) but because the kid loves to sit and write and i think it will be fabulous for her. we'll be starting with Get Ready for the Code, Book A. for Sugar, we'll finish up last year's books and move on to this year's books. i asked Josh if he was concerned that we hadn't finished last year's. "nope." talked with another homeschool mom friend of mine who has kids older than mine and she tells me they've never finished a book. oh the relief to know life doesn't end if a book isn't finished.
i'm thinking school will start on Sept. 10.
i read on Pinterest the other day that putting eucalyptus oil (or Vick's) on the bottom of your feet stops coughing. Spice came home from Mt. Rainier with a cold and i rubbed it into her feet before bed, put socks on her, and she slept through the night without a cough. sweet deal!
i rushed my cat to the vet the other day because his cheek was swollen and his eye was watery. my kids can be puking, fevery, rashy, and i don't take them in. but Clifford?! it's just nothing ever happens to Cliff. Cliff happens to everything else. he's fine. they shaved part of his face, he just stood there. they gave him a shot, he just stood there. never has there been a more laid back cat. i love that dude.
til 4 am when he's standing on my chest meowing in my face because he wants out.
watched where the red fern grows the other night.
the end of the movie, the mama said, "i guess God doesn't want families separated."
no. no, He doesn't.
sometimes that's in our control. sometimes we can choose our family to be whole and we opt not to.
and other times it is out of our control and all we can do is rest assured God's got us covered.
i've seen both lately. both hurt my heart.
there was a hailstorm here recently, i dunno a few weeks ago or so. just got the quote back for the damage on my van. 4 grand! crazy, huh? we have a $500 deductible and i don't really feel like shelling that money out to have the van fixed. it's not a big deal to me. i don't know why i even took it in in the first place.
speaking of my van, i took that bad girl apart the other day. i took my seats out and you know those little runners where all the fishy crackers and McDonald's fries go to live forever? i took those runners off and i vacuumed and i vacuumed some more. she looks new again. i have to mix it up with my van. make her feel new so i don't wanna go out and buy a new rig. it's so hard. i love me a new car. we have no debt. no car payments. no credit cards. a ridiculously low mortgage payment. we could afford a new car. well, we could afford PAYMENTS on a new car. but it's not gonna happen. we've agreed to never put ourselves in that position again. the next "new" car i get will be used and paid for with cash. like 20 years from now.
today is thursday and that means yoga and Bern's.
and yoga and Bern's makes my heart happy.
oh. and my mom is moving back from Vegas. so there's that.
Wednesday, August 22, 2012
Make the Call
Today I had to do something so out of my comfort zone.
I had to make a phone call and apologize to a friend.
Texting and emailing just don't cut it when you need to say you're sorry. Those methods are so much easier, though. You don't have to hear the person's hurt/disappointed voice, you don't have to stumble over your words, you can backspace all you want until you get it just perfect.
But a phone call takes guts.
Guts I don't have.
Didn't have.
I called my friend and she wasn't thrilled with me. But I apologized. She listened. And thanked me for calling.
It's the hardest thing I've done in awhile, but let me tell ya, it felt good to do the right thing for once.
So, this is me, encouraging you. Maybe you have your own tough phone call to make. Just do it. Sitting around stewing about it doesn't get you anywhere. You can do it.
You'll be glad you did.
I had to make a phone call and apologize to a friend.
Texting and emailing just don't cut it when you need to say you're sorry. Those methods are so much easier, though. You don't have to hear the person's hurt/disappointed voice, you don't have to stumble over your words, you can backspace all you want until you get it just perfect.
But a phone call takes guts.
Guts I don't have.
Didn't have.
I called my friend and she wasn't thrilled with me. But I apologized. She listened. And thanked me for calling.
It's the hardest thing I've done in awhile, but let me tell ya, it felt good to do the right thing for once.
So, this is me, encouraging you. Maybe you have your own tough phone call to make. Just do it. Sitting around stewing about it doesn't get you anywhere. You can do it.
You'll be glad you did.
Tuesday, August 14, 2012
A post about Kit
My friend Chelsea is one of my favorite people. When I need someone to tell me what I need to hear in my homeschoolishness, I call her. She's not a sugar-coater. She's all sorts of fabulous in a lot of ways BUT this post is not about her.
It's about her husband. Who I think is pretty great too.
I'm not sure if I've ever shared how Kit and I met for the first time but it might have been that he was shirtless and wearing his wife's slippers and opening a gate for me so I could enter their driveway.
And I may have made some fun of him and his little slippers. And then introduced myself after that.
Nice start to any friendship, I think.
One of the things I like about Kit is that he and Josh get along super. The last time we were over there he and Josh had a coupla beers, talked cars and at one point I think I saw the two of them skipping, hand in hand to the shop to look at Kit's truck. It was a special moment. (hi, Kit!) (you're welcome!)
Another thing I like about Kit? He and I can flip each othersh er, crap and it's all good. Offense taken? None. Ever. And that's why I love that after reading my post about my Mexican head vintage find I get an email from Chelsea with a quote from Kit:
"Whenever I go into second hand stores I always wonder who buys this shit...now I know."
Now I can't wait to invite them over for dinner. And put Pedro on the table right next to Kit's spot. They're gonna get along GREAT.
It's about her husband. Who I think is pretty great too.
I'm not sure if I've ever shared how Kit and I met for the first time but it might have been that he was shirtless and wearing his wife's slippers and opening a gate for me so I could enter their driveway.
And I may have made some fun of him and his little slippers. And then introduced myself after that.
Nice start to any friendship, I think.
One of the things I like about Kit is that he and Josh get along super. The last time we were over there he and Josh had a coupla beers, talked cars and at one point I think I saw the two of them skipping, hand in hand to the shop to look at Kit's truck. It was a special moment. (hi, Kit!) (you're welcome!)
Another thing I like about Kit? He and I can flip each other
"Whenever I go into second hand stores I always wonder who buys this shit...now I know."
Now I can't wait to invite them over for dinner. And put Pedro on the table right next to Kit's spot. They're gonna get along GREAT.
Thursday, August 09, 2012
The vintage find that has changed my life
We try to make it to Portland a few times a year to watch my niece's in their sporting events and then once during the summer for our annual trip to the beach with their family.
Last weekend was the weekend for our beach trip.
We got there Friday evening and since we planned on going to the beach Sunday, we had time to hang out and do some shopping beforehand.
One of the perks of Josh's sister having kids quite a bit older than ours is that they can babysit ours now while the four of us double date! It's a treat for us since we don't get to hang out with them very often.
I wish I knew what was making us cheese this picture so badly, but I can't remember.
So Friday night was good and fun, I can't say enough how much we wish we lived nearer to them. I told Treena her house is the only house where I sleep just as well as I do at my own house. I also get into the fridge as comfortably at their place as I do my own. :)
And while Friday was great, Saturday was just around the corner and oh boy.
OH BOY.
I can hardly contain my excitement.
Treena said she had a couple of places to take us that she figured we would like.
LIKE?
How about LOVE?!
We went into a rebuilding store where people can donate household items and you can get them fairly inexpensive. I was in heaven. There was the fabulous board, I'd guess about 18" long, inch thick, and was covered in several coats of paint. I loved it. I wanted it. Just to hang in my living room. Husband put the smack down and said no. That we have plenty of our random pieces of board covered in several coats of paint. But that even though we have them, I can't hang them on the wall.
Pfft.
The next place we went to was House of Vintage.
There just aren't words. Okay, there are several. Just none that can do the place and my love for it justice.
Oh my.
It's full of amazingness.
I kept touching things and loving on things and telling Josh I needed things. Sadly we didn't have our truck and flatbed or I would have gone home with new (to me) furniture.
There was one thing though that I didn't need a trailer to haul. One thing I needed.
Yes, needed.
I saw it and knew I had to have it. And just like that piece of wood at the rebuilding store, Josh told me no. Like, a very adamant, you cannot have this item no.
Silly Joshy. He shouldn't have used his No Card so early in the day.
I walked away and looked all over the store without said item in my hands but I knew I was going back for it. There was no way I was leaving that store withouthim it. Josh and I separated at some point while walking around and then he made a phone call and while he was busy doing that, I made a beeline back to my soon to be prized possession.
And once the transaction was complete, what could he do? Why absolutely nothing.
Except take my picture with it.
Oh yes. That's my purchase. That's my new love. That's what I was not leaving the store without.
I know he looks like he's worth hundreds of dollars. But ladies and jellybeans, I got him for the steal of a mere 18 bucks.
Josh just shook his head. "I feel like I don't even know you." How could he not know my love for something like this??
I posted his picture to Facebook. People think I'm crazy. "Where are you going to put him?!"
Oh I knew as soon as I saw him where he would go. I had the perfect spot in mind.
In my living room on my end table. Duh.
Tell me he doesn't fit perfectly? See. You can't. Because he SO does!
I feel like my life is complete now.
Last weekend was the weekend for our beach trip.
We got there Friday evening and since we planned on going to the beach Sunday, we had time to hang out and do some shopping beforehand.
One of the perks of Josh's sister having kids quite a bit older than ours is that they can babysit ours now while the four of us double date! It's a treat for us since we don't get to hang out with them very often.
I wish I knew what was making us cheese this picture so badly, but I can't remember.
So Friday night was good and fun, I can't say enough how much we wish we lived nearer to them. I told Treena her house is the only house where I sleep just as well as I do at my own house. I also get into the fridge as comfortably at their place as I do my own. :)
And while Friday was great, Saturday was just around the corner and oh boy.
OH BOY.
I can hardly contain my excitement.
Treena said she had a couple of places to take us that she figured we would like.
LIKE?
How about LOVE?!
We went into a rebuilding store where people can donate household items and you can get them fairly inexpensive. I was in heaven. There was the fabulous board, I'd guess about 18" long, inch thick, and was covered in several coats of paint. I loved it. I wanted it. Just to hang in my living room. Husband put the smack down and said no. That we have plenty of our random pieces of board covered in several coats of paint. But that even though we have them, I can't hang them on the wall.
Pfft.
 |
| this was just outside the rebuilding store |
The next place we went to was House of Vintage.
There just aren't words. Okay, there are several. Just none that can do the place and my love for it justice.
Oh my.
It's full of amazingness.
I kept touching things and loving on things and telling Josh I needed things. Sadly we didn't have our truck and flatbed or I would have gone home with new (to me) furniture.
There was one thing though that I didn't need a trailer to haul. One thing I needed.
Yes, needed.
I saw it and knew I had to have it. And just like that piece of wood at the rebuilding store, Josh told me no. Like, a very adamant, you cannot have this item no.
Silly Joshy. He shouldn't have used his No Card so early in the day.
I walked away and looked all over the store without said item in my hands but I knew I was going back for it. There was no way I was leaving that store without
And once the transaction was complete, what could he do? Why absolutely nothing.
Except take my picture with it.
Oh yes. That's my purchase. That's my new love. That's what I was not leaving the store without.
I know he looks like he's worth hundreds of dollars. But ladies and jellybeans, I got him for the steal of a mere 18 bucks.
Josh just shook his head. "I feel like I don't even know you." How could he not know my love for something like this??
I posted his picture to Facebook. People think I'm crazy. "Where are you going to put him?!"
Oh I knew as soon as I saw him where he would go. I had the perfect spot in mind.
In my living room on my end table. Duh.
Tell me he doesn't fit perfectly? See. You can't. Because he SO does!
I feel like my life is complete now.
Wednesday, August 08, 2012
Smoothie Recipe
I know I need to blog.
But I'm busy.
Don't ask with what, I don't want to try and make something up.
I'm not usually one who passes on recipes here on my blog,
but I'm a huge fan of super easy breakfasts because I hate making breakfast.
(because I don't usually eat it)
This recipe is quick, easy and healthy.
I know, healthy? Me? I'm surprised by myself, too.
I'm really bad about sharing recipes because I don't measure anything, I just throw stuff in and call it good.
This recipe is no different.
Here are the ingredients:
Roasted flaxseed peanut butter
(you could just use regular PB and throw in some flaxseeds)
Some honey
(maybe a Tbsp or so)
1 or 2 frozen, sliced bananas
Some almond milk
Put all of this in your blender and, well...blend. And make sure to get all the banana chunks.
*shudder*
The girls and I have had this for breakfast the last two mornings.
Super tasty, filling, and healthy!
Wednesday, July 25, 2012
This one is for their future therapists
I've never claimed to be a good mom. Honestly because I don't really think I am.
I'm short-tempered. I yell. I don't play make believe very well. Or at all. And even with a name like Sarah Lee, I very rarely bake. Unless it's brownies out of a box. Then I bake those.
Or at least eat the batter.
Okay, anyway.
So I may not be a good mom but I'm a fun(ish) mom.
Driving by a park but don't wanna play for very long? That's me. My solution? Pull up to said park and yell,
"seatbelts off! hurry! hurry! jump outta the van, go down the slide twice, jump on the swings, do a round on the merry-go-round then run! run! back to the van!"
And they scramble.
And I don't have to get out.
And they think this is great fun.
It boils down to me being a strange mom I suppose. Though they don't know it yet. They don't know that most moms actually get out of the rig and push the babes on the swings and push em on the merry-go-round. They don't know that most moms don't roll down the window to bark at strangers on the sidewalk. Or wear orange sunglasses.
Or wear prom dresses to the grocery store. Wait, whaaat?
Well this one does. This mom will buy a prom dress 15 years after she's too old for prom, and wear it to the grocery store.
Just because.
Like I do. Did. Yesterday.
After all this time of people knowing me or being my friend on FB they wanted proof I'd actually go to the store like this. So I asked Sugar to take my picture and seven year olds, if you didn't know, ROCK at taking pictures.
Of headless people.
I assure you. That is me. In the formal attire with flip flops.
And of course I'm sporting my orange sunglasses. You just can't see them.
I feel like I need to print off two copies of this blog post and put them in the girls' baby books so they can just hand it to their therapist and say, "See. See why I'm here?!"
And this post. It will explain much of why my kids are whacked.
You do this stuff too, right?
Monday, July 23, 2012
13 years and it still ain't easy {he used to say ain't and that used to make me crazy, now if only i could hear him say ain't just one more time}
I've had an unsettledness to me for about a week now.
Because I feel this day is coming before it's actually here. I know that sounds odd. But there's no other way to explain it.
We've been going out in the boat and playing on the water for a couple of weeks now and everything's been good. I've been fine. I've been normal. I've let my kids play in the water, be on the boat, ride the tube and I've been fine.
And yesterday on the boat I wasn't fine at all.
Because this day is here. This 13th anniversary of my dad drowning.
And my God, I am missing my dad this day. I'm sitting here, agitated and crying. Why? Why miss him so after all these years. Why was I just fine last year but today I'm not?
Today I am short with my girls. I'm quick tempered, more so than normal. I can't concentrate on tasks more so than normal. I finally loaded the girls up and made them go to the cemetery with me. It was a quick trip, but it was enough. Just to go there and see his name. His simple head stone. He was simple.
Yet so full of life. I miss that life of his. I miss that the adult me doesn't get the chance to know him.
Right now I think about how good of friends we'd be. I know I'd need him as my dad and ask him to come over and do whatever a dad and adult daughter do together but I miss him as my friend.
I never had him as my friend. How can you miss something you've never had?
I'm sure I'd be trying to find myself the perfect stepmom. One who didn't call me a stick in the mud as one of his girlfriends had back when I was 16 or 17. Maybe I was then, I'm definitely not now. She would like me now.
I think if nothing else I've done in this life would make him proud, he'd at least be proud that I like beer now. He'd think he'd done something right. :)
I wish I could hear him laugh and watch him walk. Doesn't that sound funny? Watch him walk? He just had this easy way about him and I can picture the way he walked. He was comfortable with him.
I remember after his best friend was killed by a drunk driver that I didn't hear from my dad for a long time. I was 11. When he finally resurfaced he tried to explain to my 11 year old self that he very nearly had himself committed. He wasn't sure he could go on. I never understood that until Amber. I never understood how you could feel life wasn't worth much without your best friend until her. I think as I get older I understand him a little better.
Man he loved his friends.
They knew him so much better than I ever did. Ever will. I'm jealous. I admit it. Of the memories they have. Pictures, videos, in their hearts. I have so few.
I remember locking myself out of my car in the Wal Mart parking lot when I was about 17. He came to my rescue. And it was no big deal. And it's just little things like this that seem so simple and yet mean so much. I mean, that's what a dad is for, to save you. Even if it's just from the Wal Mart parking lot.
I just wanna ask him to come over. I want him to come over for dinner and sit out on the deck and drink a beer or 3 and hear his laugh and watch him with the granddaughters he never got to meet.
And I wanna not cry til snot drips down my face. I want life to be fair and there not to be dads who die too young. And like I said back in November, I just want my dad.
I just miss my dad.
Two years ago I laid out my grief in this post, it wasn't an easy write, but it was healing.
Can you do me a favor? If you knew him, can you leave me favorite memory of him? Or more than one. You can leave 'em in the comment section or email them to me at truckfamily@gmail.com That would be awesome.
Spanks.
Because I feel this day is coming before it's actually here. I know that sounds odd. But there's no other way to explain it.
We've been going out in the boat and playing on the water for a couple of weeks now and everything's been good. I've been fine. I've been normal. I've let my kids play in the water, be on the boat, ride the tube and I've been fine.
And yesterday on the boat I wasn't fine at all.
Because this day is here. This 13th anniversary of my dad drowning.
And my God, I am missing my dad this day. I'm sitting here, agitated and crying. Why? Why miss him so after all these years. Why was I just fine last year but today I'm not?
Today I am short with my girls. I'm quick tempered, more so than normal. I can't concentrate on tasks more so than normal. I finally loaded the girls up and made them go to the cemetery with me. It was a quick trip, but it was enough. Just to go there and see his name. His simple head stone. He was simple.
Yet so full of life. I miss that life of his. I miss that the adult me doesn't get the chance to know him.
Right now I think about how good of friends we'd be. I know I'd need him as my dad and ask him to come over and do whatever a dad and adult daughter do together but I miss him as my friend.
I never had him as my friend. How can you miss something you've never had?
I'm sure I'd be trying to find myself the perfect stepmom. One who didn't call me a stick in the mud as one of his girlfriends had back when I was 16 or 17. Maybe I was then, I'm definitely not now. She would like me now.
I think if nothing else I've done in this life would make him proud, he'd at least be proud that I like beer now. He'd think he'd done something right. :)
I wish I could hear him laugh and watch him walk. Doesn't that sound funny? Watch him walk? He just had this easy way about him and I can picture the way he walked. He was comfortable with him.
I remember after his best friend was killed by a drunk driver that I didn't hear from my dad for a long time. I was 11. When he finally resurfaced he tried to explain to my 11 year old self that he very nearly had himself committed. He wasn't sure he could go on. I never understood that until Amber. I never understood how you could feel life wasn't worth much without your best friend until her. I think as I get older I understand him a little better.
Man he loved his friends.
They knew him so much better than I ever did. Ever will. I'm jealous. I admit it. Of the memories they have. Pictures, videos, in their hearts. I have so few.
I remember locking myself out of my car in the Wal Mart parking lot when I was about 17. He came to my rescue. And it was no big deal. And it's just little things like this that seem so simple and yet mean so much. I mean, that's what a dad is for, to save you. Even if it's just from the Wal Mart parking lot.
I just wanna ask him to come over. I want him to come over for dinner and sit out on the deck and drink a beer or 3 and hear his laugh and watch him with the granddaughters he never got to meet.
And I wanna not cry til snot drips down my face. I want life to be fair and there not to be dads who die too young. And like I said back in November, I just want my dad.
 |
| My 17th birthday. |
I just miss my dad.
Two years ago I laid out my grief in this post, it wasn't an easy write, but it was healing.
Can you do me a favor? If you knew him, can you leave me favorite memory of him? Or more than one. You can leave 'em in the comment section or email them to me at truckfamily@gmail.com That would be awesome.
Spanks.
Friday, July 20, 2012
Summa time random
We're a couple of days in on this blog reunion, so it's high time we have some random.
About a month ago I put sunscreen on my face. The next day I broke out and looked like a 14 year old boy. I still look like that 14 year old boy. I'm not loving the zits. Here I tried to protect myself from the cancer and I'm rewarded with acne. Nice.
I took all the books out of one of our bookcases yesterday. So far I've only put back about 3/4 of them. The rest are waiting for me to finish blogging. I might blog until Sunday or Monday.
Tuesday we went boating (we did on Sunday, too) and I went way outta my comfort zone and tried wake boarding. Out of my comfort zone because I'm not super thrilled about water (the whole dad drowning thing) and because I don't like being strapped into stuff. Freaks me out. But I had to do it. I need to get over these fears. I didn't get up but I tried. Four times. And that counts for something! (not sure what, but it does!)
I kissed Spice's armpit. She had an owie. She asked me to kiss it. I did.
I meet my new(ish) stepdad soon. Like in a week soon. He's been my stepdad for nearly a year and it's weird, right? that we haven't met. I think so. Maybe this time has been good. He only has a glimpse (my mother) of what he's in for. I kinda feel sorry for him. It's me we're talking about. I'm also a lil worried. What if he doesn't like me? I don't have a dad, so to now have a stepdad is kinda cool but only if he likes me. Not sure I could take the rejection. But who wouldn't like me? I'm a treat!
I've decided to buy anti-aging cream.
I don't whiten my teeth. I get asked this all the time. Especially when summer is here and I'm tan. I brush them. Once a day usually. When I remember. I credit my white teeth to my dead dad. He had nice teeth. Nice, white, straight teeth. Mine are just white. Win some ya lose some.
I need to blog about church. Remind me.
My kids were gone for 19 hours Weds/Thurs. I didn't get much accomplished. About as much as when they are here. Which equals nothing.
My Beagle is snoring.
I wish I had a motorcycle. Or at least knew of someone who did. I want a ride on one.
I'm really tired of my house not being done. It's exhausting having a house that's partially re-done and partially not re-done. My husband is busy. Busy, busy, busy. And I'm lazy, lazy, lazy. Those two combined are not good. It means nothing gets done.
I love flip flops.
I'm going to take a nap.
About a month ago I put sunscreen on my face. The next day I broke out and looked like a 14 year old boy. I still look like that 14 year old boy. I'm not loving the zits. Here I tried to protect myself from the cancer and I'm rewarded with acne. Nice.
I took all the books out of one of our bookcases yesterday. So far I've only put back about 3/4 of them. The rest are waiting for me to finish blogging. I might blog until Sunday or Monday.
Tuesday we went boating (we did on Sunday, too) and I went way outta my comfort zone and tried wake boarding. Out of my comfort zone because I'm not super thrilled about water (the whole dad drowning thing) and because I don't like being strapped into stuff. Freaks me out. But I had to do it. I need to get over these fears. I didn't get up but I tried. Four times. And that counts for something! (not sure what, but it does!)
I kissed Spice's armpit. She had an owie. She asked me to kiss it. I did.
I meet my new(ish) stepdad soon. Like in a week soon. He's been my stepdad for nearly a year and it's weird, right? that we haven't met. I think so. Maybe this time has been good. He only has a glimpse (my mother) of what he's in for. I kinda feel sorry for him. It's me we're talking about. I'm also a lil worried. What if he doesn't like me? I don't have a dad, so to now have a stepdad is kinda cool but only if he likes me. Not sure I could take the rejection. But who wouldn't like me? I'm a treat!
I've decided to buy anti-aging cream.
I don't whiten my teeth. I get asked this all the time. Especially when summer is here and I'm tan. I brush them. Once a day usually. When I remember. I credit my white teeth to my dead dad. He had nice teeth. Nice, white, straight teeth. Mine are just white. Win some ya lose some.
I need to blog about church. Remind me.
My kids were gone for 19 hours Weds/Thurs. I didn't get much accomplished. About as much as when they are here. Which equals nothing.
My Beagle is snoring.
I wish I had a motorcycle. Or at least knew of someone who did. I want a ride on one.
I'm really tired of my house not being done. It's exhausting having a house that's partially re-done and partially not re-done. My husband is busy. Busy, busy, busy. And I'm lazy, lazy, lazy. Those two combined are not good. It means nothing gets done.
I love flip flops.
I'm going to take a nap.
Wednesday, July 18, 2012
I can't quit words: On breaking up with my blog and getting back together with it. Again.
I feel like my blog and I are these 16 year old high school kids in a FB relationship status that reads, "it's complicated."
We break up.
We get back together.
And it's good. Real good.
But then it gets bad again.
And well, lather, rinse, repeat.
I'm gonna admit, it was embarrassing getting back together this time.
I assumed people would roll their eyes and say, "I knew it! I told you they'd get back together!" or the "yeah, but how long will it last this time?"
I had to decide that I cared more about my blog, my little place on the internet, than I did about what people may say. Because they may not be saying anything at all other than, "Woohoo! She's back, uh huh. Oh yeah."
I'm gonna go ahead and choose to believe the latter. Yes, I am.
There's no real good explanation for why I deleted or why I un-deleted. It's me. C'mon. If you've been here longer than a month or so you know this is what I do. I'm not going to say it won't happen again. It might tomorrow.
For now, it's here. For now I'm going to try to make my writing a priority. It's such an outlet for me.
I love my bike riding.
I love cooking.
I love yoga.
But there's something about words.
And the flowing of them. And the releasing of them.
I get something completely different from writing than I do from any other outlet in my life.
As hard as I try - I just can't quit words.
We break up.
We get back together.
And it's good. Real good.
But then it gets bad again.
And well, lather, rinse, repeat.
I'm gonna admit, it was embarrassing getting back together this time.
I assumed people would roll their eyes and say, "I knew it! I told you they'd get back together!" or the "yeah, but how long will it last this time?"
I had to decide that I cared more about my blog, my little place on the internet, than I did about what people may say. Because they may not be saying anything at all other than, "Woohoo! She's back, uh huh. Oh yeah."
I'm gonna go ahead and choose to believe the latter. Yes, I am.
There's no real good explanation for why I deleted or why I un-deleted. It's me. C'mon. If you've been here longer than a month or so you know this is what I do. I'm not going to say it won't happen again. It might tomorrow.
For now, it's here. For now I'm going to try to make my writing a priority. It's such an outlet for me.
I love my bike riding.
I love cooking.
I love yoga.
But there's something about words.
And the flowing of them. And the releasing of them.
I get something completely different from writing than I do from any other outlet in my life.
As hard as I try - I just can't quit words.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
Just a day in my life
My blog and I broke up.
But we're back together now. We'll discuss this at another time.
For now, here's a glimpse of the start of my Tuesday, July 17th, 2012.
My friend, Jana, is in town and I bribed her with Starbucks if she'd come over and hang out with me for a bit before leaving town.
So I load up my girls which is no easy task. You'd think it would be by now. I mean, they are seven and four and c'mon, you can put your shoes and your seatbelt on by yourself already!!
We're driving, we get to the store, we unload and I realize I don't have my wallet.
"Oh, yeah, Mom. I saw it in the house. Forgot to tell you. Sorry."
Thanks, Sugar. Thanks for nothin'.
We drive home and Sugar jumps outta the rig, brings me my wallet and then there's a gasping from the three of us girls as Justin Bieber's Boyfriend has just come on the radio. Any fighting, any anything stops for those few minutes of glory.
Anyway.
I pay for the drinks, barista hands me my $1.33 in change and I go to put it in the pocket of my pants.
Only to realize the pocket of my pants is on the inside of my pants.
Because I have them on inside out.
This is why I blog. To publicly embarrass myself in written format.
You're welcome.
But we're back together now. We'll discuss this at another time.
For now, here's a glimpse of the start of my Tuesday, July 17th, 2012.
My friend, Jana, is in town and I bribed her with Starbucks if she'd come over and hang out with me for a bit before leaving town.
So I load up my girls which is no easy task. You'd think it would be by now. I mean, they are seven and four and c'mon, you can put your shoes and your seatbelt on by yourself already!!
We're driving, we get to the store, we unload and I realize I don't have my wallet.
"Oh, yeah, Mom. I saw it in the house. Forgot to tell you. Sorry."
Thanks, Sugar. Thanks for nothin'.
We drive home and Sugar jumps outta the rig, brings me my wallet and then there's a gasping from the three of us girls as Justin Bieber's Boyfriend has just come on the radio. Any fighting, any anything stops for those few minutes of glory.
Anyway.
I pay for the drinks, barista hands me my $1.33 in change and I go to put it in the pocket of my pants.
Only to realize the pocket of my pants is on the inside of my pants.
Because I have them on inside out.
This is why I blog. To publicly embarrass myself in written format.
You're welcome.
Friday, June 15, 2012
Let's Get Homeschool-y
While most homeschool families are on summer vacay ours is not.
This is what happens when you procrastinate. This is what happens when you take too much time off for certain things.
But it's (one of) the beauties of homeschooling. The flexibility of it.
Josh and I were talking about ways to make things flow a little more smoothly for next year, what would help us with our focus, etc. Often I would think, "oooh, we can go do something in the morning and we'll just school later." And then later would come but school would not.
I'm not a structured person. I'm very fly by the seat-a my pants. My girls, I've noticed, are not like this. They go with my flow, but they don't like it. So, while I can be fly by the seat-a my pants for me, I can't be like that for them. Our days must have more structure to them.
I think it's going to be good. For all of us.
Just might be a bit rough for my flighty nature.
This is what happens when you procrastinate. This is what happens when you take too much time off for certain things.
But it's (one of) the beauties of homeschooling. The flexibility of it.
Josh and I were talking about ways to make things flow a little more smoothly for next year, what would help us with our focus, etc. Often I would think, "oooh, we can go do something in the morning and we'll just school later." And then later would come but school would not.
I'm not a structured person. I'm very fly by the seat-a my pants. My girls, I've noticed, are not like this. They go with my flow, but they don't like it. So, while I can be fly by the seat-a my pants for me, I can't be like that for them. Our days must have more structure to them.
I think it's going to be good. For all of us.
Just might be a bit rough for my flighty nature.
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
{choose joy with me today}
I was texting with Megan (my baby sister) last week about life and how sometimes I'm just ready to be done with it. For the most part, I kinda suck at living.
I'm not the wife or mother or person I thought I'd be. I had these crazy notions that I would be really good at it, this life thing - and I'm not.
Sometimes I just get super discouraged and think it'd be better to not be kickin'.
But deep down I know I'm here, on this earth, right now, for a reason. Whatever His reasons may be.
So today I choose joy. I choose to laugh and love in spite of the stuff that tries to keep me down. I choose joy on this road that sometimes seems dark.
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I hope today you choose to do the same despite the circumstances weighing on your life, your heart, your mind right now.
Tuesday, June 12, 2012
What hard work can do
Today I was looking to find a pic of the "old me" to see if there was actually that much of a difference in how I looked before going to the gym and riding my bike.
I figured Facebook would probably be the best place to find old pics of myself.
I found one from two summers ago, it was taken in July 2010, about seven months before I started going to the gym.
And then I got a current photo, one from our Memorial weekend camping trip.
And then I put them side by side.
There's a difference. For sure.
It was a good reminder for me today that hard work pays off. I needed that reminder as I was hauling stuff up from the basement for our yard sale. Thinking it was a waste of time.
But the hours I spent at the gym and the miles I put on my bike were not a waste of time. I accomplished something I didn't think I was able to accomplish. I lost 30 nasty pounds in about 7 months and have maintained that for the last year.
Hard work pays off.
So I'm going to keep plugging away at this yard sale stuff and know that my hard work won't be for nothin'.
I figured Facebook would probably be the best place to find old pics of myself.
I found one from two summers ago, it was taken in July 2010, about seven months before I started going to the gym.
And then I got a current photo, one from our Memorial weekend camping trip.
And then I put them side by side.
There's a difference. For sure.
It was a good reminder for me today that hard work pays off. I needed that reminder as I was hauling stuff up from the basement for our yard sale. Thinking it was a waste of time.
But the hours I spent at the gym and the miles I put on my bike were not a waste of time. I accomplished something I didn't think I was able to accomplish. I lost 30 nasty pounds in about 7 months and have maintained that for the last year.
Hard work pays off.
So I'm going to keep plugging away at this yard sale stuff and know that my hard work won't be for nothin'.
Monday, June 11, 2012
Monday, Fun Day. Recap of the weekend.
Less than 3 hours til company arrives for dinner. Perfect time to sit and blog and not clean up the house.
*eye roll*
Today is such a great Monday.
It was such a great weekend.
Last week our cat went missing. It's not unusual for us to have animals die around here. We live on one of the busiest roads in our town and have had a few animals be hit (boo). But, we didn't see our cat in the road anywhere so we remained hopeful that she was just out there somewhere having a good time. We walked up and down the road calling for her several times. We prayed and prayed. And I cried and cried.
Yesterday, after five days away from home, she showed up! I cried. And thanked the Lord!
Saturday I went to a bachelorette party for my friend, Sara. Oh, goodness. We were at a country bar and there was a band and there was music and dancing and I don't dance. But I danced that night. So much that my body still hurts two days later. One person tried to teach me to swing dance and all I did was step on his toes and I think the toes of other people too. Another guy asked me to go to Sturgis with him (because you always ask strangers after 30 minutes of meeting to go somewhere with you, right?!) and I told him to just hold on and I'd ask my husband. He said he'd ask for me and I laughed and laughed. Silly him. We got the bachelorette the most amazing lap dance ever. I haven't laughed that hard in a long, long time. All of us girls were out on the floor and I broke a sweat and realized that maybe I should take up dancing instead of yoga to get in shape.
Holy smokes.
Friday night my sister and I decided at about 9:50 to go for a drive to Taco Bell. They closed in 10 minutes and I was speeding something fierce. We got there on time and then my window wouldn't roll down (of course) but thankfully I have a sunroof, so Meg just popped outta that and ordered the food. And then we took it to a friend's house and ate and laughed and at one point I had to rush to the sink because I was choking on Pepsi from laughing so hard.
My goodness I love to laugh.
I babysat Trevor's boys for a couple of days last week. He told his co-workers that his ex-girlfriend was taking care of his kids while his wife was gone. Their response: "Oh, the girl who used to be a pole dancer?" Apparently he had told all of them about my wanting to take pole dancing lessons last year and instead of it just being lessons, they assumed I was a pole dancer.
Awesome.
I am the pole dancing ex-girlfriend. I love it.
My living room is full of stuff for a yard sale. I have one almost every year and I hate them. Hate them. Hate them.
I love going to them. I love the money I make from having them.
I just hate actually having them.
Did you know Father's Day is this Sunday? I did not realize this until this morning. For some reason I thought it was the next Sunday. My bad. Guess I better get to making Josh's gift.
How are you? What are you up to?
*eye roll*
Today is such a great Monday.
It was such a great weekend.
Last week our cat went missing. It's not unusual for us to have animals die around here. We live on one of the busiest roads in our town and have had a few animals be hit (boo). But, we didn't see our cat in the road anywhere so we remained hopeful that she was just out there somewhere having a good time. We walked up and down the road calling for her several times. We prayed and prayed. And I cried and cried.
Yesterday, after five days away from home, she showed up! I cried. And thanked the Lord!
Saturday I went to a bachelorette party for my friend, Sara. Oh, goodness. We were at a country bar and there was a band and there was music and dancing and I don't dance. But I danced that night. So much that my body still hurts two days later. One person tried to teach me to swing dance and all I did was step on his toes and I think the toes of other people too. Another guy asked me to go to Sturgis with him (because you always ask strangers after 30 minutes of meeting to go somewhere with you, right?!) and I told him to just hold on and I'd ask my husband. He said he'd ask for me and I laughed and laughed. Silly him. We got the bachelorette the most amazing lap dance ever. I haven't laughed that hard in a long, long time. All of us girls were out on the floor and I broke a sweat and realized that maybe I should take up dancing instead of yoga to get in shape.
Holy smokes.
Friday night my sister and I decided at about 9:50 to go for a drive to Taco Bell. They closed in 10 minutes and I was speeding something fierce. We got there on time and then my window wouldn't roll down (of course) but thankfully I have a sunroof, so Meg just popped outta that and ordered the food. And then we took it to a friend's house and ate and laughed and at one point I had to rush to the sink because I was choking on Pepsi from laughing so hard.
My goodness I love to laugh.
I babysat Trevor's boys for a couple of days last week. He told his co-workers that his ex-girlfriend was taking care of his kids while his wife was gone. Their response: "Oh, the girl who used to be a pole dancer?" Apparently he had told all of them about my wanting to take pole dancing lessons last year and instead of it just being lessons, they assumed I was a pole dancer.
Awesome.
I am the pole dancing ex-girlfriend. I love it.
My living room is full of stuff for a yard sale. I have one almost every year and I hate them. Hate them. Hate them.
I love going to them. I love the money I make from having them.
I just hate actually having them.
Did you know Father's Day is this Sunday? I did not realize this until this morning. For some reason I thought it was the next Sunday. My bad. Guess I better get to making Josh's gift.
How are you? What are you up to?
Wednesday, June 06, 2012
The birthday of all birthdays
The Friday before my birthday my sister and I were to go get matching tattoos.
I was sitting on my sister's front steps waiting for her to show up so we could head off to our appt.
She was tardy.
When she finally showed up, she opened the passenger door and out steps my mother.
Whom I haven't seen since January.
I couldn't believe it.
Just a coupla nights before Josh asked if I missed her.
I told him I did but that the worst part was there was no plan on when I'd be seeing her again.
And that bothered me.
We love having deck parties at our house and it's one of my mom's favorite things to do at our place.
I told her we were having one the day before my birthday and she was sad she couldn't be here.
My step-dad (how weird is that to say?) told her she had to come.
(if I ever doubt that i'm the favorite, i must remember this.)
And so there she was.
And it was like she hadn't been gone all this time.
We bought beer and macaroni and cheese and invited a friend of mine over
and we all hung out outside while Josh built the coolest swing ever.
Early the next morning we went to Starbucks and sat outside.
And I just enjoyed that I had my mama and my baby sister with me.
I also enjoyed that we got 4 semi-trucks to honk at us.
I love Starbucks with my mama and baby sister.
I just do.
The rest of the day was spent getting stuff ready for the deck party.
Grocery shopping, tidying the house, finishing touches on the new swing.
And lots of laughter.
I bought a new shirt. And put my hair up.
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And I was ready to par-tay!
Megan showed up looking amazing. Of course.
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There was food and friends. Music and dancing.
Oh, the dancing.
I even got the most amazing present ever.
During the day I got a text asking for a picture of my bike tattoo.
But I was told not to ask questions.
So I text back with a picture of my tattoo
I get an orange shirt (fave color!) and on it is the outline of my bike, looking just like my tat.
It says, "Ride bikes, drink beer, get awesome."
How cool is THAT?!
Love it.
He's kinda getting favorite friend award.
Of course Amber's gift was amazing as well.
Always good gifts from her.
A Justin Bieber alarm clock because..
who wouldn't wanna wake up to the Beebs every morning?!
There were wheelbarrow races, too.
And the kids went swimming in a pool my husband ingeniously heated for them.
(that's a whole nother post)
And there were S'mores and more dancing.
Then it was time to get up and start the Starbucks routine all over again with my mama and Meg on Sunday.
My BIRTHDAY!
I went to church after coffee time and afterward went home to get ready for more family to come over.
More family. More presents.
I love presents.
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Treena got me a super fun necklace! I haven't taken it off since I first put it on on Sunday.
I'm in love.
I really had the most fabulous birthday.
Surrounded the entire weekend with friends and family.
I'm a blessed girl.
Much love and hugs and thank yous to everyone who made my weekend uh-mazing.
And double loves and hugs and thank yous to Daddy Bill for sending my mama to me.
I kinda like you.
Monday, June 04, 2012
32 and I are gonna be tight.
Hello, Thirty-two.
We're going to be fine friends this year.
This year we're going to enjoy life.
We're going to relax.
Dare I say, we're going to offer ourselves a little more grace?
Yes. We are.
We're going to let down our curly, frizzy hair and we're going to not be so hard on ourselves.
Thirty-two, we're going to laugh more and probably snort while we do it.
We're going to love harder.
And probably get hurt while we do it.
You and I, Thirty-two, we're going to do more. We're going to stop being so scared of everything.
Everything = failure.
Thirty-two, are you excited for this?
I know that I am.
I know that I'm ready.
I'm ready to make this my year.
Thirty-two doesn't mean I'll have my shit together.
But it does mean that I can learn from my mistakes.
Offer myself some grace.
Pick myself up, dust myself off.
And try, try again.
I'm still going to forget those clothes in the washer until they've been in for two days.
And have to be re-washed.
I'm going to forget to thaw the hamburger and we'll hafta go out to dinner.
I'll probably buy more Starbucks than I should.
I bet I'll yell at my kids.
And roll my eyes at my husband.
This year I'm going to be intentional.
I want my words and my actions to matter.
And when I screw up my words, and when I screw up my actions,
I'm not going to berate myself.
Because remember? This is the year we're easing up on ourselves.
I'm going to accept my crazy self for who I am.
Who I was created to be.
I'm going to quit worrying so much.
I have to.
My life is good and it is full and I really wanna enjoy every minute.
Like, really enjoy.
I think I'm going to like being 32.
Yes I do.
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