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

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

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

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

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

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

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

I've been nearing the point of combustion.

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

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

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

Renewed.

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

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

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

Are you freaking kidding me?

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

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

I'm so tired.

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

Anyway.

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

Back to today.  To the counseling day.

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

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

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

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

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

I raise my head and I look at her.

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

She waits for me to continue.

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

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

She smiles.

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

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

Oh, the guilt.

And that's when the sleeping pills are enticing.

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

I've lived my days waiting for bedtime.

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

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

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

slumped shoulders.

heavy sigh.

even heavier heart.

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

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

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

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

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

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

But sometimes the truth just hurts.

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

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

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

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

(maybe you should get it, too?)

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

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

And I just laugh.

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

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

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

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

sigh of relief.

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

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

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

For this life of mine.

One acre in bits and pieces

I'm a big picture kinda girl.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

(sorry...)

(not sorry...)

I really should wear jeans when using this.

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

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

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

We'll see...

these have been dark days

It's been nearly a month since I've posted anything.

Sorry?

It has been a dark month, friends.  Oh so dark.

I can't put my finger on it.  What happened.  How today, the darkness has left and sunshine is here.  But it's happened and I'm thankful.

I don't know what's going to come from these fingertips, I had no plan on blogging today.  But when I woke up and felt this unfamiliar sense of happiness I knew I needed to write immediately.  Because what if it doesn't last long?  I want to come back and see these words and know that surely light is at the end of the tunnel.

These last few weeks have been so sad.  I'm not a girl who just cries.  It's not my way of expressing emotion when I'm upset but oh the tears these last few weeks.  I have spent much time in tears.  Much time in bed.  Much time alone in this head of mine.  It's been a lonely time.  So freaking lonely.  It's so strange to have much of my family and friends within 20 miles, yet feel so all alone.  How does that work?  It works that somehow I withdraw.  Somehow I stop putting myself out there.  Inviting myself over, inviting others over.  I don't necessarily spend time in my home though.  Sometimes I try to be gone from here as much as possible.

Being here only reminds me of how I'm failing at keeping up with dishes and laundry and kids and school and the husband.

The day has turned though.  Somehow.

And today the sun shines outside my home and inside my heart.

Today is a good day and I'm going to live it up because I don't know what tomorrow brings for this crazy head of mine.

And she said to me, "move your face!"

Today I was telling a friend a little about my friendship with Amber.

I started to cry.

You know how there are just some people you don't ever wanna be without ever?

That's Amber.

She's my person I don't ever wanna be without.

This picture makes me laugh so hard.  It's perfection.

We were taking pictures of ourselves (it's what we do) and there was no way she was going to allow me to be in more of the picture than she was.

And this picture was born.

I had sent it to one of our friends shortly after we took it.

His reply, "you guys look drunk."

We do.

But we weren't.

We're just a good time like that.

I love her.  I just love her.

The First Monday of the Month

When my mom moved back to town a couple of months back I asked if she would be so inclined to take my children one day a month for the entire day.  And because she loves me so much (but not as much as she loves the other two) she said yes.

Last month I painted while she had the kids.  And it was weird but it was good.  Josh had left for Bend, OR for the night and my house was just me and my paintbrush.

Yesterday I dropped the girls off, went walking with a friend at the park and then headed home.  Unsure of what to do with my day I decided to just get on my bike.  So I rode 17 miles, had some deep fried asparagus and rode back home.  The weather was perfect.  In the upper 70s.  The sunshine and the exercise were making my heart happy.

But once I got home I was just lost as to what to do.  It was only 3 pm!

I showered, painted my fingernails, did some dishes and then headed back to my mom's house.  My youngest was missing me.  It was decided the kids would spend the night with my mom.  And Spice was very excited.  They aren't ever away over night!

Coincidentally Josh headed to Bend, OR yesterday too so there was no one to come home to.  I went walking at the park again, ate at a taco wagon, and was home by 7:30.

I left the front door open, turned Pandora on Colbie Caillat station and blasted it.  It was so loud and so quiet all at the same time.

I realized I was a little bit miserable.

So I started to write.  With like an actual pen and paper!

"What Quiet Time Looks Like"

I wrote out how I view it.  Then I wrote out my reality.  It boiled down to guilt.  Feeling guilty for enjoying time alone that I do nothing.  Or nothing that I've planned.  I had to tell myself that there was NOTHING WRONG with spending some time alone.  I'm with my kids all day, everyday.  One single day without 'em doesn't make me a bad mama.

Josh and I talked about it this morning and he agreed, next month I need to have a plan.  I need to have some cash monies.  And I need to just follow-through on doing something with my day so that I enjoy it and don't feel regret or whatever.

We'll see how it goes.  I'll letcha know next month...

I say blissful a lot but it's not always that way. Not always that way at all.

The other night I was out for a ride on my bike.  I was approaching a family of five who were also on their bicycles.  Mom, Dad, three kids.  Two kids were riding, one on their own, one with the help of dad.  The mother was carrying the bike of the youngest, while walking her own.

She looked frazzled.

As I got closer I said to her, "you always think it's going to be a lot more fun than it is, huh?"

The dad laughed, but the mom looked at me like, "someone gets it."

We've been that family.

I've been that mama.

Me: Hey!  Let's all get our shoes on and put our bikes in the rig, head to the path and have some family bonding.

Family:  can't find socks, or a match set of shoes.  neighbor's dog stole a helmet.  so and so is wearing MY shorts.  husband is trying to keep out of the crossfire by loading bikes.  can you help me buckle, i can't buckle, she just stuck her tongue out at me!

We get to the pathway and we probably look like this happy little family.  And we are.  But you know, looks are so deceiving.  Aren't they?

You whiz by in the car and see a family on the pathway and wish you could look so blissful.  But you don't know the dynamic behind closed doors.

You don't see that the husband just found out a huge part of his job is hanging in the balance and who knows what's going to happen there.  You don't see that he's listing in his head every person who has offered him a job in the last three years and trying to decide who he'd call first.  You don't know that the mama is *thisclose* to locking herself in the bathroom with a bottle of w(h)ine when she gets home because she's pretty sure she's on the fast track to crazy.  She can't keep up with the house and the being the mom and being the wife and being the friend, the teacher, the sister.  You don't see that she feels there's not one area where she's succeeding unless procrastination is an area.  And the children.  Oh the children.  They have their own little bitty issues you aren't seeing from the road.  Those smiling faces aren't always so smiley.

We look at people's outsides and we just assume everyone is so much better off and happier than we are.  Or is this just me?

I assume everyone has their shiz together and I am the only one who feels like a fraud on the pathway.

I posted a picture last Friday night of my family.  Josh was sitting with the girls, he had just put up a tent, we were about to play Skip-Bo and popcorn was being eaten.  I wasn't in the picture picture, but I was there.  I was in the picture as far as being a part of that night.  I posted it and received a text from a friend.  "Nice, happy family."  But said friend knows that my life is not perfect by any means.  And then my uncle commented on the picture saying that Josh was a good papa.  And he is.  He so is.  But instead of accepting that compliment I was like, 'hello, what about my kids' mom?  what about her?'  And we are back to the girl who wants to lock herself up with a bottle of wine.

I very nearly deleted that picture because I don't want people assuming we are always so blissful on a Friday night.  But in that moment we were and I guess I wanted it documented.

This is such a bunch of rambling.  You're shocked, huh?  I don't know what I'm trying to say.  Other than everyone's got their deal.  We're happy for a minute and we can be miserable for a minute.  Don't assume that everyone's lives are always the bliss they post to FB but also, don't make them out to be a fraud because sometimes those moments are what we live for and get us through the muck for the next moment of bliss.

the end.

Oh, right. I have a blog.

It's been weeks since I've been here.  Oopsie.

I had someone say to me recently, rather sarcastically, something about my being distracted and how they hoped whatever I was doing was making me happy.

It's called life.

School and house.  Mothering and wifing.  Maintaining friendships and emails.  Exercise and beer drinking.

I've been busy.

My life is full and it is (mostly) good.  I've definitely put the blog (and apparently certain people, though not on purpose) on the back burner to this thing called living that I'm doing.

Happy Wednesday.

yoga clothes shopping experience

Today I went shopping for some new yoga clothes.  I've been wearing the same pair of athletic pants for about a year and a half and I'm just sure that at any moment they are going to rip right down the middle and my bare ass will be exposed to all of class.

Well, not completely bare.  You know what i mean.

I think.

So I'm in TJ Maxx and I find some "active wear" section and there is not much of a selection but whatever.  I grab a size medium pants and they just look big.  It was weird.  So I grabbed the small and they looked ridiculously small.

What the hoo ha hay?!

I didn't get the mediums because while I used to buy my clothes a size bigger (knowing full well I'd be growing into them at any given time) I no longer do that.  I buy clothes that fit.  Fit fit.  Just right fit.

I grabbed the small and felt like I needed to suck it in while I paid for them.

Three work out(ish) shirts and one pair of yoga pants later I head out the door.  When I get home I put on one of the tops.  Now, you can suck in your belly all you want but I'm here to tell you that you cannot, as much as you try, suck in your boobs.  Those bad girls are just there.  And so I'm squishing them and maneuvering them all over the place to get them in.

Those pads they put in there?  Yeah, I ripped those out immediately.  Thank you, work out shirt, but I have enough of my own shiz in there without your help.

It was then time to suck it in to put on the ultra cozy tight yoga pants.  I've never had official yoga pants before and these are truly from the Lord.  (right, Curtis)  Again, sucked in my tummy while I'm pulling 'em on but there's no sucking in of the thighs or rear and there may have been a teensy weensy little stretching noise as I got em up and over the buttocks.

Such a strange word.

Anyway, the point of this post (am I supposed to have one?) is that clothes, like shoes, should come in half sizes.  I coulda used a small and a half.

PMS Remedy: A work out, a sister, a mother, and a goodnight of sleep

Sorry about yesterday's post.

Ugh.

I don't know about you, but for me, PMS is a real biatch.  I've said this a couple of years ago, but I used to not believe in it.  Used to not think that PMS was a real thing.  Because in the household I grew up in (my mom and two sisters and me) it wasn't allowed.  I think my mom feared being overtaken by PMS.  So, it just wasn't really talked about but dude.

It's real.

And it's ugly.

I notice it more when I'm not sleeping well or going to work out.  Oh, and when I'm not eating very healthfully.

I'm trying to step up my workouts but I have been eating like crap this last week.

My mood yesterday was the pits.

Just waking up this morning I can tell I'm better.  I feel like the time I spent at the gym, and my walk to the gym with Amber were contributing factors in my mood.  Then after the gym I saw my sweet baby sister and my mom.  We put in a movie but talked too much to watch it.  Did my heart good.

Came home to a husband who listened to me talk his ear off.  Then had a solid six hours of sleep.

The sun is shining.  We have great plans for the weekend.  My coffee is great.

And so is God.

Today will be a good day.

How are you feeling, Sarah?

That's the FB question of the day.

I wanna tell FB to shut the eff up.

I'm feeling frustrated and defeated.  I'm feeling rejected.  I'm feeling slothful.  I'm feeling life is more than me. Life and motherhood and wifeliness and being a friend is more than I can do.

I'm feeling that even though I'm currently on speaking terms with all three females in my family, mother and both sisters, that at any given time it will blow up.  And I'm giving away my heart to them.  And any moment, any moment it will come crashing.

I'm feeling that my homeschoolishness changes my friendships.  And I don't know if it's for the better.  I feel like an outcast.

I feel like a fraud.

I feel like sitting next to my dad in our uncomfortable silence.  I feel like the sound of his laughter and in that drawl in his speech would heal me.

I'm feeling like I'll never be free of this sadness that plagues me at all times.  This overwhelming sadness that I'm constantly doing everything wrong.  It is so exhausting.  So exhausting.

(i'm so sorry that i whine about that so often, feel free to come back to this blog in about 10 yrs, maybe by then i'll have my shit together and won't complain about doing everything wrong.)

(then again, maybe i'll still be complaining)

I'm feeling snarky.

I'm feeling it's time to end this post.

Wednesday Random....on Thursday

I've been thinking today was going to be Wednesday for some reason.  It's not but oh well.  I often write out random stuff on Wednesdays but apparently missed the boat yesterday.

(and now i want to throw in a bunch of boat jokes.)

The Library put a block on my account because I couldn't find three books.  Like could not find them, I've searched everywhere, they must have walked out of my house couldn't find them.  I was just going to buy them.  I had library books for school on hold that I needed, I was just going to have to fork out the money.

"Well, for the three books it's $60, I suggest you go home and take another look around."

YA THINK!?

So I did.

I went in the basement and I was searching and there was nothing.  Grr.  But I realized I had to pack for our trip so I grabbed a suitcase while I was down there.

The suitcase was heavy.

Um, apparently my last trip didn't get put away.  And I had taken a library book with me.

YAY!  One down, two to go.

I have this "trouble zone" in my kitchen, next to my fridge, where papers pile up.  (who am I kidding, my whole kitchen is a trouble zone) Anyway, I decided to clean up that area, file stuff (in the trash) and put stuff away (in the trash).  Lo and behold....another library book!

Then Josh found the last one.

Suh-weet.  Saved myself a chunk of change.  And was able to get the books we needed for our science lesson next week.

Speaking of science.  Loving our curriculum.  Sugar is too.  So does Spice.

Speaking of curriculum, a friend of mine has decided to homeschool her kids and we've been discussing curriculum choices.  I asked what she's planning to use and most of what she listed I'd never heard of before.  I researched it yesterday and am likely going to change our history and language arts.  I like both that I'm using, but after reading up on these two others, wow.  We'll see.

I lost my favorite pair of silver earrings that my mom gave me for my birthday last year.  I'm sad pants.

I'm starting up movie night with my mom and sister tonight.  That makes me happy pants.

My cup of coffee is cold.

This summer I ripped up the carpet in my living room and painted the floor white.  That was dumb.  Not the carpet ripping, that was GOOD, but the white part.  This floor should not be white.  I have two small children, a husband who attracts grease, and three pets.  I need more floor to be the color of dirt.  Think I'm just going to spend the money and re-do it.

Apparently I paid all of our bills twice last month.  Oops.  I'm not quite sure how I did that.  But every bill I've gotten this month shows a credit.  Awesome!  I'll take it.

I'm working on another Pinterest project with a friend.  He cut my board, I'll paint it, and then he'll stencil and paint the letters on for me.  And I will buy him beer.  It really is a win/win for us both.  Here's what we're working on:

Source: etsy.com via Sarah on Pinterest

but where it says "margarita" mine will say "sangria" because I can't stand margaritas but love sangria.  This might be due to almost dying from tequila 10 years ago but whatever.  (I also felt like I was going to die from tequila last month, but that's another post for another day)

Today is my grandma's birthday.  She is 74.  She is living proof you can survive on Pepsi and PopTarts.

Speaking of terrible eating habits, I've been journaling my exercise and eating with a friend.  Ugh.  There's been a lot to journal as far as food, but not so much the exercising.  Those ten lbs I wanted to lose before our vacation?  Ack, I now only have two months to do it.  I should probably start trying.  I'm taking my bike to Portland with me this weekend and I am RIDING.  Yes I am.

I will lose those 10 lbs!

Okay, that's enough random.  Your turn.

Day Trip to Pendleton

At the end of January, on a Saturday when we had much to do around the house inside and out -

Josh says, "let's get out of here. Let's go for a drive."

So we loaded up the children and the Beagle, some snacks and off we went.

Our first stop was Starbucks.

And then we just kept driving.

We drove to Pendleton, OR, took pictures at the rodeo grounds, walked around, drove around

and just spent time together.

There are no pictures of the Beagle because he heaved the entire day and left seven piles of puke in my van.

I wish I were kidding.

He's never been car sick before.

Our girls are so good in the car.  Have been since birth.

I thank God for that.  I know He blessed us with good little travelers because we enjoy so much to be on the road.

I find it's easy to get caught up in listening to the radio or talking with Josh even asking for silence instead of using my time in the car with the girls to learn about them and teach them about the world outside our rig.

I'm choosing today to change that.

To turn the radio down.

And turn the conversations up.

my heart talking

My cats are roaming the house sneezing.  The dogs nails are clickity clacketing on the floor.  And they're driving me crazy.

It's early early for me to be awake but Josh was up and out of bed at 4:30 so I thought the least I could do (since I didn't make breakfast) was to sit with him while he ate his oatmeal and drank his coffee.

I'm so kind that way.

My girls slept together last night in Spice's bed.  Actually, we all fell asleep in her bed last night.  We spent some time together on our big, new (to us) gold couch and then we all curled up in her bed, sang a couple of songs and then it got very quiet.  I woke up before Josh did, but he ended up sleeping in there for about an hour.  It's cozy, that bed.  Those snuggly girls.

Yesterday was not a great day, but last night was a great night.

I hope that's what my girls remember when they are older.  The good.  I don't remember my childhood hardly at all, but I hope my girls remember.  We are trying to make it good.  We are trying to make it fun.

We are trying to make it love.

Josh is pretty fabulous when it comes to anything children.  I think because he's yet to fully grow up himself.  For me, to play with the girls (i hate to admit this) is a chore, I try try try to think of something to play and it lasts for five minutes and I'm dying.  For Josh, play comes easy.  His imagination runs wild and then he lives it out.

They have the very best dad.

We see how quickly time is passing.  How important these days to love them are.  Our job, our gift, to raise them and protect them.  It doesn't stop when they are four and seven or fourteen and seventeen.  The time feels so short and sometimes I feel a sense of panic.  I want to put the brakes on.  I want to hold on tight to four and seven.

I've loved every stage.  Well, except for Spice's crying stage, which lasted until...wait, we're still waiting for that crying stage to end.  No.  I really have enjoyed their growing up.  Sure I'm sad on occasion when no longer am I needed for a certain something or other, but I love their independence.  Sugar's especially.  She believes she can do anything herself.

And don't tell her different.

I don't want to baby or coddle them in an unhealthy way.  I want them to grow.  Thrive.  And be successful, capable women.

I just hope they're like 45 when they decide to go out on their own.

Those girls and this time and that daddy of theirs, make my bad days not so bad.  It makes them good.  And gives my heart a good talking to.  This heart of mine needs a talking to a lot lately.

Last night in that bed with my three favorite people, I got what I needed.  A reminder that this life I live is blessed and sweet and oh so worth living.

So worth living.

Wednesday Random

This morning I locked myself out of the house whilst wearing my pajamas.

But not before I stepped on a tack with my bare feet.

I had a bit of panic attack freak out deal Monday regarding some homeschoolishness.  It all started when a lapbook I ordered and tried to put together was not at all going as planned.  "How can I teach my kids when I can't even put together a lapbook!?"

So I went in the bathroom.  Locked the door.  And didn't cry.  Because I couldn't.  I couldn't even find my breath for the longest time.  There was a lot of gasping.  Sigh.

Then on Tuesday I looked some stuff up, found some resources.  And calmed my freak down.

This morning Sugar says to me, "I'm like a princess.  But poor."  I got a good laugh outta that.

I saw my baby sister yesterday for the first time in months.  I felt like it was my birthday!

I've decided not to cancel my membership to the gym.  At Josh's insistence.  I've gone for the last three days thanks to Amber's girls being willing to watch my kids while we go.  I feel GOOD.  Tired.  Sore.  But oh so good.  I rode my bike on Saturday.  Just 15 miles, but that was good too.  Then the wind tried to kill me.

Josh has been gone for the last two nights for work.  About 8 hours away.  I slept on the couch both nights.  With a gun.

We've been having smoothies for breakfast lately.  Spinach, almond milk, flax seed, pure maple syrup (or honey), almond butter, frozen berries and a banana.  So good.  Oh so good.  Spice loves them, Sugar likes them.

I've lost three lbs this week.  I wanted to lose five and thought it was a ridiculous goal but maybe I'll see it.  We'll be in San Diego in just over a couple of months.  I want to be able to wear a swimsuit without embarrassment.

We're headed to friends for the weekend.  Jim and Emily's.  I love that blogging brought us together.  The internet has been awesome in finding new friendships.

Oooh, funny (random) story about meeting blog friends.  Over Memorial weekend last year we were going camping with some friends we'd never met.  I "knew" them through Twitter and loved them in 140 characters or less.  They invited us to go camping and we agreed.  Josh's dad was skeptical.  He tells Josh, "you better take your gun."  Josh's reply? "Oh, I will.  But from what Sarah tells me about Cortland, I'm sure he'll have at least one or four of his own."  Was too funny.  And then of course, Cortland did.  And no one needed them other than to talk about them.  :)

I'm supposed to be schooling kids.  I should probably do that since I just heard them head to the laundry room and pour dog food. Which means they'll be trying to eat it in 3, 2, ...

The Elmo ABCs

Spice just knows stuff.  I don't feel like I've taught her anything, she just kinda picks up on things and knows how to add 1+1 all the way up to 1+9 and write out the answers.  I don't remember teaching her to write her numbers.  Oops.

She's been writing her name for a couple of years.

I feel like for not even five, she's a pretty smart kiddo.

Bias shmias.

Anyway, right now she says she's going to sing her ABCs to me.  Something I don't know that we've really worked on.  (I know, I know.)

ABCs, the Spice age 4 version:

"a b c d e f g, h i j k elmo p, q r s, t u bee, w x y n z."

I sure love that baby.

I'm a head case. yeah, yeah, yeah

I'm reading a book that uses the term "head case" fairly often.

The characters make me feel somewhat normal.

However, I sent an email a couple of hours ago describing my night last night.  How I was supposed to go grocery shopping and run some errands in TC but couldn't function.  I was able to make dinner.

But barely.

And once dinner was made I was supposed to leave.

I couldn't.  I couldn't bring myself to leave the house.  I knew that I'd get up there and be with all those people and that's normally something I really enjoy but not last night.

Not at all.  I couldn't stand the thought of it.

So I grabbed my book and told Josh I was heading upstairs.  I plopped myself down on my bed, turned the lamp on and read for the next 90 minutes.  In that time I laughed and cried.

And most importantly, breathed.

I have days where I feel like I can't breathe.

Yesterday was one.  I think Josh knew this because he went to work for an hour and then came home.  He worked on his Suburban and came in and out of the house.  I didn't feel like I was being babysat, just supported.  He knew I needed him around yesterday.

So after reading for those 90 minutes I knew it was getting on bedtime hour for my kids.  My heart stopped beating all crazy and my mind was no longer mush.  I was able to snuggle and tickle and play with my girls before they went to sleep.

I'm totally a head case.  But today I feel good.  Today I'll do my shopping.  And maybe pick up a straitjacket.

In orange, of course.

I love that she listened

Last night Josh worked late so the girls and I ate dinner just the three of us.

I stood at the counter and served their spaghetti.  They ate at the bar, I ate standing up.

We're quietly eating when Spice sort of gasps and puts her left hand over her heart.

"Mama!" 

"What?!" 

"Jesus.  He just talked to me. To my heart."  She says with eyes wide.

I'm sorta startled.  She's never said anything like this before.

"What did He say to you?"

She smiles.

"He said He loves me."

We've been busy

We've lived in our home for 13.5 years.  We started our first "project" about two months after we moved in. Someday I'm going to write a post about all the projects we've done since living here.

But today is not that post.

Today's post is just about what we've done over the last couple of weeks.

My girls share a bedroom that is approximately 12x12.  The closet makes it a little smaller than that.  Having two twin beds in there was absolutely crowding the area.  I was getting really frustrated, they were getting really frustrated.  So a couple of weeks ago I got on Costco's website, found a set of bunkbeds I liked for nearly $1000.00  I didn't care.  I was just going to buy them and be done with it.

I show them to Josh and he says, "You don't love those.  Find something on Pinterest you like."

So I find these:

Source: houzz.com via Sarah on Pinterest

And Josh says, "let's go get the material."

That was on a Thursday night and by Sunday afternoon I had these:

My husband is a freaking rock star!

We had the beadboard already from another project (our hallway) that we took down so that was fun to have that on  hand.  The rest of the materials, including the paint cost us about $325 or so.  Much cheaper than the ones I was going to be buy from Costco!

Another area of our house that I have always disliked has been our doors and hallways.  The doors are very plain and were painted an ugly pinkish tan.  We had a closet in the hallway that for years has been awful!  When we first moved in there was an accordian door on it and I soon ripped that down.  It's not had any door on it now for years and anyone can just see all the crap I have thrown in there.

Last week I hired a general contractor to come in and finish up a few projects we'd started and part of that was the hallway.  Tommy covered up the hall closet door and framed in a new closet in my bathroom.  YAY!  So I've been doing some painting in the hallway and decided I needed new doors.  Something fun.

It's taken me a long long time to realize what my style is.  Maybe there isn't really a term for it but kinda a Bohemian Chic I suppose.  I like color and I like country(ish) and things are starting (finally!) to come together.

I foolishly did not take a before picture of the hallway or door but here is the new door and the old closet used to open up right next to that door.  But no more!

I still need to put trim up around the floor and door and put the door handle on.  I got new handles too!  Oh my word, love them!

Last night I decided to bust out my acrylics and paint in the girls' room.  I'd seen a couple of different tree ideas on Pinterest, had Sugar pick out the one she liked and went to work.  This is the one she picked:

Source: naifandtastic.com via Sarah on Pinterest

and this is what I ended up with:

My plan is to put shelves on one side of the tree for books and a couple of large pillows against the wall with a lamp somewhere in the mix.  I'm hopeful to encourage a love of reading and if they can have a fun place to do that - all the better!  It was a fun project to start and finish within about 12 hours.

I'll update as we finish more projects, which seem to be coming along rather quickly these days!

Loving it.

And then there was Red

I colored my hair and I love it.

I don't think I've ever loved my hair more than I do now.

It's fun.  It's me.  I may never go back to my dirty blonde self ever again.

(that did not sound right, did it?)

(meh, whatev)

when will it feel like a job well done

i'm sitting on my second hand orange couch, with my bare feet and my comfy clothes.

today i woke up late but finally after days upon days of not feeling rested - felt rested.  i suppose i needed that sleep but waking at 8 is embarrassing.

to me.

the first thing i did was heat up my coffee that josh had left in the french press.  his alarm went off at 4:30 and he was out the door by 5:30.

after heating up my coffee i started a load of laundry.  i'm guessing it was about 8:30.  the washer and dryer ran and ran and did not stop until 8:30 tonight.  it's not that i was that behind on the dirty laundry, but i was behind on the clean laundry and apparently my cat decided to pee on it.  i wasn't sure what all had been peed on, but i decided that everything needed to be rewashed.  and there was a heckuva lotta clean laundry on that guest room bed.

i schooled the kids.  partially.  enough.

i cleaned some other stuff.

did some dishes.  checked the mail.  sighed when i got a bill from my wisdom teeth.  apparently i forgot to pay that off.  it's expensive to get rid of teeth.

i broke up fights and i soothed tears.

i caused tears, too.

i fed the dog and the cats.

i got dinner made by some miracle just minutes before josh walked in the door at 6:30.  he put in a 13 hour day.

while dinner was cooking i washed more dishes.  put more dishes away.  folded more laundry.  put more laundry away.

we ate and i did dishes.  we played two games of cards at the table and then josh took the girls off to bed and i took a bath and wondered at what i got done today.

i feel like didn't do much at all, yet my house is clean, spotless almost, my kids are clean and schooled.  but i feel like i failed.

i feel like i failed this day and i don't know why.  is it always going to feel like this?  will i never feel like, yay me?  i don't get it.  i don't understand.  i want to know.  i want to know, was it enough?  did i do enough?  i don't want platitudes, i want truth.  did i miss something?  was there supposed to be more to this day?

i just want a night where i go to bed and feel like i did my job well.

tonight is not that night.

Preview of what's to come...Hair Edition

Tomorrow I go in to get my hurr did.

My once a year beautification.

This is what I dream of my hair looking like:

or

but that is not to be.

So I considered this because my hair could do this.  (I wish my face could too, but I don't have that kind of money right now.  And if I did, that's not the surgery I'd be spending said money on...)

source

Husband was okay with it.  After all, it's not dreads.  But it's short and short is not his favorite.  *sigh*

So, tomorrow my dirty blonde, frizzy locks will look like this:

And maybe I'll go get some glasses and bold lipstick, too.

Let's set a goal, shall we?

The four of us are leaving soon(ish) to warmer temps.

My body is in no shape to be seeing the sun whilst in a swim suit.

I'm canceling my membership to the gym I've loved for two years now.  Life is changing and I'm just not able to leave the house as frequently as before.  It's time to start working out from home.

My bicycle and I have been separated for a couple of months now, a situation that needs to be remedied immediately.  While a good hour at the gym feels great, nothing leans this girl out like time on the bike.  I must get back to pedaling.

I've gained two pounds.  This isn't much.  And for the most part I'm not concerned.  But the fact that I've lost a lot of muscle and let it turn into blubber isn't making me very happy.

So.

Here's my goal.

10 pounds in three months.  Totally doable.  Just a little over three pounds per month.

That would put me at 115.  A number I haven't seen on the scale since I was about four months pregnant with Sugar. Which woulda been a little over eight years ago.

115 seems ridiculous.  But I want to do it.

I was trying to think of what I could reward myself with and then it hit me, duh.  Vacation.  

And a new swim suit!

Where I say too much. Get too personal.

In November of 2011 I found out I had a hernia.  In December while discussing the repair with my surgeon he asked if I wanted more babies.

"Yes!"  I kind of said it like, "duh!"

And he said okay, he just wanted to let me know that while he was putting the mesh screen in to repair my hernia, he could also tie my tubes.

Thanks but no thanks.

And then two days later I had a horrible parenting morning.  Okay, horrible doesn't even cut it.  It was one of the the worst days I'd ever had as a mother.

I found myself guilt-tripping my six year old, being impatient with my three year old and just wanting to wave a white flag.

"If you suck at being a mother to two kids, what makes you think you have any right to have three?"

Those were the words that formed in my mind.

I loaded the girls up in the van.  It was freezing.  They were still in jammies.  And I rushed down to the surgeon's office and asked where the form was that I could sign so that two days from then I would no longer have to worry about bringing another child into this world that I would damage with my less than stellar parenting.

"Sarah, honey.  Are you sure?"  Yolanda, the office manager asked me.

I'm sure I looked a fright.

"Look, I have two screaming kids out in the car right now, just the two of 'em make me crazy.  I don't think I need to add to that."  The tears.  They were so close but I kept them in.

This isn't your time.  I heard the voice.  His voice.

And still I signed the paper.

The devil on one shoulder.  The angel on the other.

A mix of right and wrong.

Two days later I'm in a hospital gown early early in the morning with those stupid hospital socks that don't stay on.  The surgical nurse is going over what is about to go down.

Ventral hernia repair.

Tubal ligation.

"Is this correct?"

This isn't your time.  I knew then I should have told her no.  No, that was not correct.  Do the hernia repair, leave my tubes alone!

I nodded.  "Yes, that's correct."

vertical scar above & below my belly button is from having half
of my colon removed 6 yrs ago.
the staples are from the hernia repair.  tubal ligation staples are not shown.

I came out of surgery and my first thought was of the babies I wouldn't have.

The hernia repair and tubal ligation were the easiest of the surgeries I've had, yet I was the worst patient this time around.  I yelled at my nurse (Josh had to apologize to her for me). I cried.  I was angry.  I wanted to go home.

I wanted to go back.

To a few days before.  To not have signed those papers.

It's been a year and I'm still trying to heal from that surgery.  My hernia is fine.  My heart, however, is not.

I think about it everyday.  I've asked for forgiveness over and over.  I've been angry.  I've thrown stuff.  And I've had the days where I hear that voice that I'm a terrible mother to two kids, I don't deserve any more.

I say all of this, I say too much, have gotten too personal because maybe it's one of you who needs to hear it.  Maybe you're considering making a permanent decision like this and you just don't know if it's the right thing for you.

It might be.

It might not be.

I'm just letting you know my experience with making this permanent decision.  Don't make yours in a moment of frustration.  Don't sign those papers because you feel like you're a bad mom.  Don't assume your husband thinks you're a terrible mama to his children and doesn't want to have more babies with you.

Think it through.  Write out a list.  Pray about it.  Talk to your spouse.  And when you've made your decision, wait another month. Or more.

If this is something you're considering and wanna talk about it, feel free to leave a comment here, or up at the top, where it says "Contact" you can find my email address and email me.  

Two years later.

Tomorrow is the two year anniversary since I signed up for the gym and took control of my health, my weight.

Two years.

Crazy.

These last two years have been quite a ride.

Some things I'd change.  Some things I wouldn't.

Getting up early to hit the gym is something I'll never regret.

The hours away from home riding my bike, I don't regret.

I worked hard to lose it, I've worked hard to maintain it.

2011 was my year to get healthy.

2013 is yours.

Conversation with the Husband

Last night I was about to update my FB status and then backspaced it all.

Me:  I probably don't need to tell FB what the girls just did, do I?

Josh:  No, you never know, one of your friends might call CPS or something.

Me:  But then I'd know what time to have the kids waiting at the door with their bags packed.

It's a joke.  Mostly...  ;)

Happy Thursday!

Wednesday Random Style

My house is quiet.  Well, besides the fish tank.  Nemo and Marlin are rather noisy.  (yes, Nemo and Marlin. my kids are super creative namers of fish)

Josh left for work about an hour ago.  Just as he was about to leave I hear a Peterbilt start up.  Pretty sure it tugs at his heart even more than mine when we hear that sound.  Our neighbor drives a truck very similar to the one we used to live in.  He's not home often, but when we hear him pull up the drive, we both stop for a second, and then start again.

Living in the Pete wasn't an easy time, but we both miss it a lot.

Amber came over for dinner last night with her girls.  I tried my first recipe from my new Healthy Gluten-Free Life cookbook.  It was fine.  It was chicken.  I'm not a super big chicken fan, but everyone cleared their plates so I assumed that was a good sign.  (that, or Josh paid them all off.  which would not surprise me)

When Josh leaves our bed, our Beagle joins it.  I'm always surprised to find that a 40 lb dog can take up more of a bed than a 135 lb. man.  I ended up having to just get out of bed since he was pushing me off.  The bugger.

I was gone for several hours on Saturday doing the grocery shopping.  While I was gone my husband went Tazmanian devil on our house.  He cleaned, he scrubbed, he did laundry, he changed sheets, made beds, did dishes.  I came home to calm instead of chaos.  It did my heart good after such a stressful shopping trip.  I do not deserve him.  I know this.

Yesterday the girls and I sat for two hours straight doing school work.  Usually after 30 minutes I let them have a recess time.  Yesterday, not so much.  We got a lot done and hopefully a lot learned.  I talked with them about Martin Luther King Jr. and Rosa Parks.  I learned new things right along with them.

I haven't seen my mom since July.  That's so weird to me.  Weirder still is that I'm getting used to it.  I didn't think I would.  A couple of days ago Spice (4) was putting together a USA puzzle.  She picked up the piece for Nevada, kissed it and then looked at me.  "This is where Maugie lives and I miss her."  A few days before that she was peeling an onion for me and it made her teary.  "This is making me cry.  I'm not missing  Maugie this time."  Kid breaks my heart.  I don't realize just how much she thinks about my mom.

I stopped biting my fingernails again.  Me and my phases.  It's been a couple of weeks.  It'll last a few months and we'll repeat the process.  

I'm going away for the weekend without my husband or kiddos.  Trying to not feel guilty about it

The bubble on my nose is healing!  Thank goodness!  It's been a process but I found a YouTube video that helped and I'm so glad because on Friday (a really bad day emotionally for me) I was just ready to pull the nose ring out and see if that's what would heal the bubble.  Anyway, it still looks strange (lucky me) but at least it's in the healing process.

Ace just came barreling down the stairs which means my girls will wake up any minute.  Why can't that Beagle be a little lighter on his feet?  Sheesh.

Happy Wednesday.  

Share a bit of your random?

missing

when you dream about someone and can't stop thinking of them all the next day.  but the reason you had a dream about them in the first place is because you'd been thinking of them throughout the day before you'd even gone to bed.

and then the dream is bittersweet.

and you wake up sad and missing that person.

you smile with memories.

ache with memories.

and wonder what you can do different.

you've tried the, "I'm sorry, please talk to me" approach.

no use.

you've tried the wait it out until they talk to you approach.

no use.

this is me.  where i am.

i say i'm over it and i'm not sad anymore.

and i am lying.

because, how do you ever get over your sister?

you don't.

i'm tempted to not hit "publish" because maybe this is too much to say in a blog post.  but i'm so tired of worrying about what everyone else thinks of me.  oh so tired of it.  so.  i'm publishing.  

you can do it

It's amazing how powerful those four words are.

Armed with a grocery list, $400 cash and Starbucks I set out for Fred Meyer, Costco, Wal Mart, Winco and Yokes.  I figured between these five stores I'd be able to find all the ingredients for this new way of eating for our family.  Allergy free.

By store number four I pulled my cart to the side of the aisle and I stood there.  There was not much cash left and this was the store most of my ingredients would come from.  Yet I wasn't finding them.  I was so overwhelmed I wanted to cry.

The last week had been pretty awful and it was all coming to a head in a public place.

My eyes got watery.  My nose started to sting.  I was about to lose it in WinCo.

I'm not sure how I got my act together but I managed to not spill a tear.  I continued shopping and when all was said and done I spent $486 and still didn't find everything I needed.

$486 dollars.  Nearly two hundred over our regular budget for food and nearly a hundred over what I thought I'd need.  I knew that it would cost extra for this month so I gave myself a $100 extra.  Gluten Free shampoo, conditioner and lotion aren't cheap.  The flours aren't either.  None of it is.

It's just a lot.  A lot of work.  A lot of money.  A lot of everything I don't have.

And then there was the text from Jessica.

"You can do it."

And I took a deep breath and thought maybe she's right.  Maybe I can.

So.  Here we go.  Ready or not.  And I'm so not.

The Bubble

At the end of October I got my nose pierced.

I'm a big fan of piercings.  In high school I wanted to pierce my eyebrow but my then boyfriend wasn't thrilled with the idea. (stupid boys) (stupid me for listening)

The tongue piercings I never got into, at least not for myself, but I think they're cool.  My sister had her tongue pierced and I knew a guy who had it done, too.

When I was 22 I pierced my belly button.  If you've never pierced your belly button and you're considering doing it, ask for an epidural.  My pain tolerance is pretty high but ohmuhwerd.  That was a doozie.  I took it out about a week before I found out I was pregnant with Sugar, so I only had it a couple of years.  I'm still a little sad pants about that.  I liked it.

I have my ears pierced three times on each side.  Kinda boring.  Nothing exciting there.

The piercing I've loved most has always been the nose ring.  I'm always staring at people who have it done.  I love when I see people who just don't fit the stereotype of piercings but have them anyway.  Everyone has a story about why they pierce or tattoo, so I'm always curious about someone's reasoning behind it.

Anyway.

I have always loved the nose piercing.  I've wanted to pierce my own for a few years.  However, the husband wasn't too keen on the idea.  Over the last few years though he's come around (somewhat) and after I told him I wasn't going to put my hair in dreads, he asked if I was going to pierce my nose.

Um, yes!?

So I did.  I went to a place in Portland that my friend Jessica had gone to.  I was so nervous.  I've had a coupla babies, some pretty major surgeries, but here I am, afraid to have a needle through my nose?

Wuss.

I was expecting to pick out a very teeny tiny diamond stud.  Hardly noticeable.

But then they show me what I have to choose from and there is TURQUOISE!  And I love it and immediately say that's the one I want.  I do not at all pay attention to the fact that it's twice as big around as all the others I could have chosen.

The girl who was to pierce me pretty much rocked.  She had two piercings in her nose with a chain attaching them.  Tattoos.  Funky hair.  I kinda wanna be her.

I loved how she knew her stuff.  She talked me through the procedure.  Told me everything she was going to  do.  She recommended I close my eyes and so I did.  And then there was a moment, about two seconds of pain where the needle had gone through.  Then another second or so of pain after the ring went in.  I pierced my left nostril, and a tear from my left eye slipped down my face.

And I was done.  I did bleed a little and she said that was common.  "Did you happen to have coffee before you came in?"  Guilty.  Coffee, or caffeine, thins the blood.  She dabbed at it for me and then it was done.

I was done.

I walked downstairs where my husband waited patiently for me.  He's always so patient with me.  He just smiled his, "here she goes again" smile.  He ended up saying later he actually likes it.

The healing time written down for me was 2-6 months.  Sheesh.  There are daily soaks required in sea salt.  And I did these but not for long enough.  Which only became apparent after I developed a very large bubble around my nose ring.

Like, very large.  It is now larger than my nose ring.

So I asked Dr. Google what to do and could find nothing conclusive.  I finally called Black Hole yesterday and asked what to do.  He said, "you probably stopped your soaks and started messing with it, huh?"  Bingo.  He says I have an irritation cyst and that I now have to pretend that it's a brand new piercing.  Back to soaking it and babying it.  He says it could possibly take three weeks to heal.  Sigh.

Lesson learned.  Follow directions for piercings!  It's never made me want to take it out.  I love this thing.  I'm willing to endure another three weeks with this bubble.  I'd take a picture of it but I no longer have my iPhone.  (another post. another day)  So here's a pic from a couple months ago when it was bubble-less.

Not to be confused with bubble-iscious.

Do you have any piercings?

Want any piercings?

Have a bubble type story to share?

Spill it.

{smile pretty}

Happy Monday, friends!!

The four of us went out for dinner on Saturday night.  I asked my girls to smile pretty for a picture and the result was this...

That youngest child of mine.  She's a wild one.

No idea where she gets that behavior...

Have a great first day of the work/school week!!

xoxo

Allergy shmallergy is not a good attitude, but it's been mine.

Nearly three years ago we found out that my youngest was allergic to wheat/gluten, dairy, eggs, peanuts (moderately) and oranges.

I'm sad to say that I've done a pretty rotten job at keeping these foods from her diet.  I'm her mama, I'm the cook, and it all boils down to my being lazy.

It's hard to adjust an entire meal around just one person in the house.

We've recently noticed some other health issues that are concerning to us.  It's time I start putting her little self above my laziness.  Her scalp, her belly, her sleep habits, the bags under her eyes that are often purple-ish.  These are things that need to be taken care of.

For the last several weeks we've done a much better job at keeping foods away from her that cause harm to her.  It's difficult when we go to friend's or out to dinner and find that we let it slide then.  However, it's not long until she lets us know her belly hurts.

Food isn't the only thing with gluten.  Many of the products we put on our bodies have gluten as well, so I'll be cutting those out for all of us.  Pretty sure this is why, at nearly five years old, she still has "cradle cap" on her scalp.

This morning I told Josh, "maybe it's time we go granola."  We laughed.  Going green, natural, organic, whathaveyou is often pricey.  With our new budget in place I'm going to have to get creative.

Am I the only one who sees stuff on a shelf at the grocery store and just assumes if you can buy it, it must be okay to use?  I grab a deodorant or make up or lotion I've used for years and I don't think twice about the ingredients in those things.

We aren't going to get freaky, but I'm definitely going to start doing my research on stuff and start with one thing at a time.

So, if you're a friend or family member, please don't be offended if you invite us over and we have separate food for Spice.  We don't want you to have to adjust your menu for us, we know it's not easy to cook allergy free.  But we want her little body to start feeling better.

I'm going to be a slacker.

Last year my New Year's Resolution was to not live wired for regret.

I did a little better with that.  I think.  While I did stuff in 2012 I'm not super proud of, I didn't spend a lot of time dwelling on it.  Yay, me.

I started my list for this year.

It looked a little something like this:

Lose 10 lbs.
Run a half marathon.
Ride my bike at least once per week.
Gym 3x per week.
Fold AND put away laundry.
Make Josh's breakfast 3x per week.
Spend 30 minutes of one on one time with Sugar and Spice.
Send a letter once a week.
Email someone daily.

and on and on.

Those are things I want to do.

They're important to me.

But I think another thing I need to do is start going a lil easier on myself.  I suppose it's tied into not living wired for regret.  Same but different.  (Brian Regan, anyone?)

I've had enough people tell me, that I'm starting to believe it's true, that I'm pretty hard on myself.

In Chelsea's words, "I can tell you what's wrong with you, but not how to fix you.  Do you want to pass that on to your girls?"

No, no I do not.  I don't want to pass that lovely little characteristic on to my sweet girls.  I'd much rather them get my fantastic ability to use sarcasm at any time.

So Chelsea tells me what's wrong with me.  She's really good at that.  (love you!)  However, she can't fix me.  That's something I've gotta do.  I have to let stuff go.  I have to be okay with being me.  The screw up that I can be.  And boy can I be a screw up.

I did all the laundry but I didn't get it all put away in a timely manner.

Big freaking deal.  It's not the end of the world.

I made breakfast for Josh only two days this week.

Hey, better than none!

I went over the grocery budget.

Um, hello.  Not a big deal.  At least I'm actually trying to budget.

So that list above, the half marathon, the weight loss, etc.  Yep.  I have a year to get those things done.  I wanna do 'em.

But if I don't.  I'm just gonna let it slide and not feel like a complete and utter failure.

This goal of mine was basically my goal for what 32 would look like for me.  So for the last five months of 32 and the first 6 months of 33, we're gonna keep it up.

2013 is about offering myself a little slack.