Once I settle in, I'll be back here, writing more stories about my almost two-year-old and our crazy life together!
Thursday, December 8, 2011
{Absence}
I have been absent for over a month now. My apologies. I have been working on a new project, of sorts. Actually, a job. It's a long story, but I was hired on as a columnist for a local monthly publication. It's a bit stressful because I overthink everything, but I am so excited! My first column came out this month. Check out the digital issue: http://issuu.com/layersmedia/docs/so_dec11_32page
Friday, October 28, 2011
Angina Annoyance
For a {Sleeping Beauty}, I stirred quite early this morning. Before 6 o'clock. Before the sun had even waved 'Hello!'
It must be nerves. I have an all-important meeting today. It will be one of those life-defining events. And because I am such an introspective, self-analyzing, overthinker, I am able to foresee it as such. {Who does that?}
When my body first began to stir {it has been established that my brain lags behind for the better part of half an hour}, it was for the sole purpose of relieving my bladder of its overtime duties. Then, subconscious worry threw spears at my brain in the form of angina-masked-as-a-heart-attack-inducing thoughts.
What if I do not have enough questions prepared?
What if I cannot find my Microsoft Office CDs to have the necessary programs re-installed on my newly wiped-clean computer?
Maybe I should write an 'About Me' section in my notes for the meeting...
Oh, I don't believe I have any good writing ideas left in me! What if I am on the verge of a 40-year writer's-block-of-a-desert here?!
My brain tried to repel the attacks by refusing to wake up, but my body was thrown into mad motion by some unseen force. I searched my desk {in the dark} high and low for my Microsoft Office package to no avail. I abandoned the search to write an 'About Me' section in my notes for the meeting. And I began to brainstorm {yet again} possible ideas to put in motion should this meeting go well.
RI-diculous.
Time to take a deep breath. IN. And OUT. Time to make some coffee. Time to step out in faith, believing that God's got this.
I can do this. I am prepared. This meeting will go well, whatever the outcome.
Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!
You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself any direction you choose.
You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy{/girl} who'll decide where to go...
Out there things can happen and frequently do
To people as brainy and footsy as you...
And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)
Kid, you'll move mountains!
So...you're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your moutain is waiting.
So...get on your way!
~Excerpts from "Oh, the Places You'll Go!" by Dr. Seuss
{Special thanks to www.teamhope.com!}
It must be nerves. I have an all-important meeting today. It will be one of those life-defining events. And because I am such an introspective, self-analyzing, overthinker, I am able to foresee it as such. {Who does that?}
When my body first began to stir {it has been established that my brain lags behind for the better part of half an hour}, it was for the sole purpose of relieving my bladder of its overtime duties. Then, subconscious worry threw spears at my brain in the form of angina-masked-as-a-heart-attack-inducing thoughts.
What if I do not have enough questions prepared?
What if I cannot find my Microsoft Office CDs to have the necessary programs re-installed on my newly wiped-clean computer?
Maybe I should write an 'About Me' section in my notes for the meeting...
Oh, I don't believe I have any good writing ideas left in me! What if I am on the verge of a 40-year writer's-block-of-a-desert here?!
My brain tried to repel the attacks by refusing to wake up, but my body was thrown into mad motion by some unseen force. I searched my desk {in the dark} high and low for my Microsoft Office package to no avail. I abandoned the search to write an 'About Me' section in my notes for the meeting. And I began to brainstorm {yet again} possible ideas to put in motion should this meeting go well.
RI-diculous.
Time to take a deep breath. IN. And OUT. Time to make some coffee. Time to step out in faith, believing that God's got this.
I can do this. I am prepared. This meeting will go well, whatever the outcome.
Congratulations!
Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!
You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.
You can steer yourself any direction you choose.
You're on your own. And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy{/girl} who'll decide where to go...
Out there things can happen and frequently do
To people as brainy and footsy as you...
And will you succeed?
Yes! You will, indeed!
(98 and 3/4 percent guaranteed.)
Kid, you'll move mountains!
So...you're off to Great Places!
Today is your day!
Your moutain is waiting.
So...get on your way!
~Excerpts from "Oh, the Places You'll Go!" by Dr. Seuss
{Special thanks to www.teamhope.com!}
Saturday, September 24, 2011
{Sleeping Beauty}
You know those people {mainly on TV} that jump out of bed in the morning, hair perfect, face perfect, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, smiling from ear to ear, ready to take on the day?
Well I'm not one of them.
"If people were meant to pop out of bed, we'd all sleep in toasters." ~Author Unknown, attributed to Jim Davis
I wake up...slowly. I wake up...cranky. It doesn't really matter how many hours of sleep I get. Regardless, it is going to take me 30 to 45 minutes to become {me}. Before then, I am short{er}-tempered. I am bleary-eyed. My speech is slurred and my coordination is even worse than normal. I don't like to make small talk. I want to be invisible until the stupor wears off.
Yes, I have much in common with an angry drunk when I stumble out of bed awakened by the crying of one who has not yet learned the art of playing in his bed.
So why don't I set an alarm and allow myself the necessary time to wake up BEFORE my son? Laziness. My alarm goes off and I don't {want} to get up. Truthfully, I don't {want} to get up when I hear my son crying either, but I MUST.
"The older generation thought nothing of getting up at five every morning--and the younger generation doesn't think much of it either." ~John J. Welsh
I'm thinking it is time, {ahem, once again} to implement the morning routine. Starting with setting an alarm and going through my entire wake-up process BEFORE Prince Charming begins his wail. Also thinking it's high time he learned how to play in his crib.
Yes, I think I should. My mornings were much better when I got certain things done before my son got up.
"Be pleasant until ten o'clock in the morning and the rest of the day will take care of itself." ~Elbert Hubbard
Back to the Basics
1. Coffee
2. Bible Study and Prayer Journal
3. Breakfast
4. Dishes and Laundry
{As I sit here, writing this blog, I am cranky. I think when I am sick, it no longer takes me 30 minutes to wake up...it takes 7 days.}
A few more quotes about {morning}, some thought-provoking, some I fully resonate with:
"I have a 'carpe diem' mug and, truthfully, at six in the morning the words do not make me want to seize the day. They make me want to slap a dead poet." ~Joanne Sherman
"One key to success is to have lunch at the time of day most people have breakfast." ~Robert Brault
"The sun has not caught me in bed in fifty years." ~Thomas Jefferson
"Early morning cheerfulness can be extremely obnoxious." ~William Feather
"I don't think jogging is healthy, especially morning jogging. If morning joggers knew how tempting they looked to morning motorists, they would stay home and do sit-ups." ~Rita Rudner
Well I'm not one of them.
"If people were meant to pop out of bed, we'd all sleep in toasters." ~Author Unknown, attributed to Jim Davis
I wake up...slowly. I wake up...cranky. It doesn't really matter how many hours of sleep I get. Regardless, it is going to take me 30 to 45 minutes to become {me}. Before then, I am short{er}-tempered. I am bleary-eyed. My speech is slurred and my coordination is even worse than normal. I don't like to make small talk. I want to be invisible until the stupor wears off.
Yes, I have much in common with an angry drunk when I stumble out of bed awakened by the crying of one who has not yet learned the art of playing in his bed.
So why don't I set an alarm and allow myself the necessary time to wake up BEFORE my son? Laziness. My alarm goes off and I don't {want} to get up. Truthfully, I don't {want} to get up when I hear my son crying either, but I MUST.
"The older generation thought nothing of getting up at five every morning--and the younger generation doesn't think much of it either." ~John J. Welsh
I'm thinking it is time, {ahem, once again} to implement the morning routine. Starting with setting an alarm and going through my entire wake-up process BEFORE Prince Charming begins his wail. Also thinking it's high time he learned how to play in his crib.
Yes, I think I should. My mornings were much better when I got certain things done before my son got up.
"Be pleasant until ten o'clock in the morning and the rest of the day will take care of itself." ~Elbert Hubbard
Back to the Basics
1. Coffee
2. Bible Study and Prayer Journal
3. Breakfast
4. Dishes and Laundry
{As I sit here, writing this blog, I am cranky. I think when I am sick, it no longer takes me 30 minutes to wake up...it takes 7 days.}
A few more quotes about {morning}, some thought-provoking, some I fully resonate with:
"I have a 'carpe diem' mug and, truthfully, at six in the morning the words do not make me want to seize the day. They make me want to slap a dead poet." ~Joanne Sherman
"One key to success is to have lunch at the time of day most people have breakfast." ~Robert Brault
"The sun has not caught me in bed in fifty years." ~Thomas Jefferson
"Early morning cheerfulness can be extremely obnoxious." ~William Feather
"I don't think jogging is healthy, especially morning jogging. If morning joggers knew how tempting they looked to morning motorists, they would stay home and do sit-ups." ~Rita Rudner
{It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World}
Welcome to Toddlerdom!
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times..."
Ain't that the truth?!
This is a collection of mini-stories {shorter than short stories} that have taken place over the last few weeks:
My son was laying on our long vanity {counter} in our bathroom. I was changing his diaper. I had undone the tabs and was leaning away from him trying to peel a wipe apart from the stack. Having no luck, I took all hands off my son and continued to try to wrench this particular wipe away from the others. As I look back to check on my son, I see him do the unthinkable. He reached down between his legs, took hold of his {untabbed} diaper, and yanked. To my horror {and I'm sure his}, the POOPY diaper landed square on his FACE. From under the diaper, I heard a shocked whine of complete panic and confusion. I came to his rescue, removing the diaper, only to find a human patty ON. HIS. FACE. I quickly went into {Disinfect Mode}. And my son? Let's just say he hasn't done THAT again.
On this same foul day, as I was most assuredly doing something incredibly important (yeah, right), my son was running to and from the bathroom. This should have been a sign. A flashing neon sign at that. But, I was preoccupied. Finally, my awareness sharpened and I began to take it all in. The pitter patter of excited little feet. The Oreo wrapper. The splash of water. Oh yes, my son was dipping the Oreo wrapper IN. THE. TOILET.
Then there was the day {thank goodness, a different day}, when I forgot to put away ONE crayon. One BLUE crayon. Yes, the other 23 were safely put away, but that ONE LITTLE BLUE CRAYON was not. And so, it was on my previously white bathroom door. My TV screen. My brand-new TV console. A better mom might have taken pictures of the little blue drawings of her {prodigy}. I, however, disciplined my son and scrubbed away the blue.
At this point, I'm sure you are wondering "So isn't this just 'the worst of times'??" Close. But then there was the time he was playing in my mother-in-law's backyard, near the air conditioner unit, and it kicked on. He went into a panic, signed "HELP!", and ran to us, looking over his shoulder at the monster that had come to life.
There was the time he disassembled his potty chair, dragged the bottom portion of it into my bedroom {upside down}, straddled it, and began to ride it, pretending it was a "vroom vroom."
There was also the day, at his great-grandmother's house, that he finally "got" a new sign and signed "MORE" and "HELP" with such enthusiasm and excitement that my mom and I died laughing.
There are the times {plural!} that he grabs my face and kisses me. The times he crawls into my lap just to get a hug, then hops back down. The times he looks at me, smiles at me, and laughs {'course you would too if you saw me when I first wake up}.
There are many more "best" and "worst" times, these are just a few. {Ahh, The Life of a Temporarily Single Mom with an 18-month-going-on-18-year-old}
{No animals or humans were harmed during the making of this blog, however: while writing this blog, my son began to pester me. I looked him in the eye and said, "I am writing a story about YOU. It's called 'It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World." To which he replied, "MAD MAD MAD MAD MAD!" Then knocked over a lamp.}
"It was the best of times, it was the worst of times..."
Ain't that the truth?!
This is a collection of mini-stories {shorter than short stories} that have taken place over the last few weeks:
My son was laying on our long vanity {counter} in our bathroom. I was changing his diaper. I had undone the tabs and was leaning away from him trying to peel a wipe apart from the stack. Having no luck, I took all hands off my son and continued to try to wrench this particular wipe away from the others. As I look back to check on my son, I see him do the unthinkable. He reached down between his legs, took hold of his {untabbed} diaper, and yanked. To my horror {and I'm sure his}, the POOPY diaper landed square on his FACE. From under the diaper, I heard a shocked whine of complete panic and confusion. I came to his rescue, removing the diaper, only to find a human patty ON. HIS. FACE. I quickly went into {Disinfect Mode}. And my son? Let's just say he hasn't done THAT again.
On this same foul day, as I was most assuredly doing something incredibly important (yeah, right), my son was running to and from the bathroom. This should have been a sign. A flashing neon sign at that. But, I was preoccupied. Finally, my awareness sharpened and I began to take it all in. The pitter patter of excited little feet. The Oreo wrapper. The splash of water. Oh yes, my son was dipping the Oreo wrapper IN. THE. TOILET.
Then there was the day {thank goodness, a different day}, when I forgot to put away ONE crayon. One BLUE crayon. Yes, the other 23 were safely put away, but that ONE LITTLE BLUE CRAYON was not. And so, it was on my previously white bathroom door. My TV screen. My brand-new TV console. A better mom might have taken pictures of the little blue drawings of her {prodigy}. I, however, disciplined my son and scrubbed away the blue.
At this point, I'm sure you are wondering "So isn't this just 'the worst of times'??" Close. But then there was the time he was playing in my mother-in-law's backyard, near the air conditioner unit, and it kicked on. He went into a panic, signed "HELP!", and ran to us, looking over his shoulder at the monster that had come to life.
There was the time he disassembled his potty chair, dragged the bottom portion of it into my bedroom {upside down}, straddled it, and began to ride it, pretending it was a "vroom vroom."
There was also the day, at his great-grandmother's house, that he finally "got" a new sign and signed "MORE" and "HELP" with such enthusiasm and excitement that my mom and I died laughing.
There are the times {plural!} that he grabs my face and kisses me. The times he crawls into my lap just to get a hug, then hops back down. The times he looks at me, smiles at me, and laughs {'course you would too if you saw me when I first wake up}.
There are many more "best" and "worst" times, these are just a few. {Ahh, The Life of a Temporarily Single Mom with an 18-month-going-on-18-year-old}
{No animals or humans were harmed during the making of this blog, however: while writing this blog, my son began to pester me. I looked him in the eye and said, "I am writing a story about YOU. It's called 'It's a Mad Mad Mad Mad World." To which he replied, "MAD MAD MAD MAD MAD!" Then knocked over a lamp.}
Thursday, September 8, 2011
{Liquid Sanity}
Coffee is the one natural {thing} I've been able to find that combats depression {for me}.
No coffee=tired, cranky, short-tempered, unfocused, apathetic.
1 cup of coffee=better.
2 cups of coffee or 1 shot of espresso={PERFECTION} (or pretty dang close, anyway).
3 cups of coffee or 2 shots of espresso=a little much...{WIRED}.
Today, after a great workout, my son and I went through a local drive-thru. I got coffee; he got a smoothie. Win/Win!
My chocolatey liquid sanity had two shots of espresso, however. I momentarily forgot my rule of no more than one shot of espresso!
In no time flat, I went from feeling pretty good to Hammy from Over the Hedge. Once I got home, I morphed into an F5 Tasmanian devil whirling from room to room, magically throwing everything into its proper place.
Sadly~after about 4 hours~my house STILL does not look perfect (I did decide I need to add a 2-shots-of-espresso-day to my weekly plan, though!), BUT I accomplished 2 out of the 3 things on my To-Do list {new plan my MIL recommended: only 3 things on your To-Do list each day} AND my house looks much better than it did this morning!
Back to my FlyLady mantra: Progress Not Perfection!
No coffee=tired, cranky, short-tempered, unfocused, apathetic.
1 cup of coffee=better.
2 cups of coffee or 1 shot of espresso={PERFECTION} (or pretty dang close, anyway).
3 cups of coffee or 2 shots of espresso=a little much...{WIRED}.
Today, after a great workout, my son and I went through a local drive-thru. I got coffee; he got a smoothie. Win/Win!
My chocolatey liquid sanity had two shots of espresso, however. I momentarily forgot my rule of no more than one shot of espresso!
In no time flat, I went from feeling pretty good to Hammy from Over the Hedge. Once I got home, I morphed into an F5 Tasmanian devil whirling from room to room, magically throwing everything into its proper place.
Sadly~after about 4 hours~my house STILL does not look perfect (I did decide I need to add a 2-shots-of-espresso-day to my weekly plan, though!), BUT I accomplished 2 out of the 3 things on my To-Do list {new plan my MIL recommended: only 3 things on your To-Do list each day} AND my house looks much better than it did this morning!
Back to my FlyLady mantra: Progress Not Perfection!
Sunday, September 4, 2011
{Nutter Butter Nagger}
Sometimes, strange though it may be, I enjoy a bit of privacy.
While at my parents' house (just my son and me), I decided to go to the bathroom ALONE. My son ran after me, assuming he, of course, was to be included in this activity, and was stunned to witness the door shutting in front of him.
Like the 18-month-old he is, he whined and cried. Then, as I sat there, I watched as a shiny red package appeared under the door. I could hear him grunting and whining. I saw little boy fingers wrapped around the package as he finally pushed the rest of it through the narrow gap between the door and the floor.
I laughed outloud as I saw he had delivered a package of Nutter Butters to him. Perhaps he thought it would be his entrance fee. He was sadly mistaken.
As he realized his misjudgment, he tried to retrieve his beloved cookies. But as the raccoon, he quickly learned that retrieval wasn't as easy. He gripped the red foil packaging with his little fingers and pulled and pulled. I just cracked up.
{Don't worry. As soon as I was finished, he got his treasure back!}
While at my parents' house (just my son and me), I decided to go to the bathroom ALONE. My son ran after me, assuming he, of course, was to be included in this activity, and was stunned to witness the door shutting in front of him.
Like the 18-month-old he is, he whined and cried. Then, as I sat there, I watched as a shiny red package appeared under the door. I could hear him grunting and whining. I saw little boy fingers wrapped around the package as he finally pushed the rest of it through the narrow gap between the door and the floor.
I laughed outloud as I saw he had delivered a package of Nutter Butters to him. Perhaps he thought it would be his entrance fee. He was sadly mistaken.
As he realized his misjudgment, he tried to retrieve his beloved cookies. But as the raccoon, he quickly learned that retrieval wasn't as easy. He gripped the red foil packaging with his little fingers and pulled and pulled. I just cracked up.
{Don't worry. As soon as I was finished, he got his treasure back!}
{Drawing Water}
Like the responsible parent I am--*cough*--I was sitting on my bed, chatting on Facebook with my sisters, paying CLOSE attention to my son...or maybe not so close. Because I am such a multi-tasker (Code for ADD), I was filling the tub for a bath at the same time.
I decided to go check on the tub, so I looked over the side of my bed before hopping down (our bed is pretty high up and I am quite short), and to my dismay, saw a puddle on the floor. Thinking that my son SOMEHOW must have opened and spilled his Gatorade, I sighed and hopped down, avoiding the puddle.
My eyes stayed ahead of my feet and took in not one, but several puddles of growing volume between where I stood and the doorway of my bedroom. About the same time, I heard the quick pitter patter of little boy feet headed in the direction of the bathroom. Incredulous, I increased my pace as I made a beeline for the bathroom calling aloud to my son.
As I rounded the corner and stepped into the hall bath, I saw my son, bent over the side of the tub. In his hands was an Easter basket made of camo fabric. He finished filling it with water from the tub and ran, in his cute high-step fashion, to bring me the bucket of water as it quickly seeped--or rather RUSHED--out of the bottom. His face was alight with his ear-to-ear grin.
Needless to say, this was one moment filled with both laughter AND {loving} discipline.
I decided to go check on the tub, so I looked over the side of my bed before hopping down (our bed is pretty high up and I am quite short), and to my dismay, saw a puddle on the floor. Thinking that my son SOMEHOW must have opened and spilled his Gatorade, I sighed and hopped down, avoiding the puddle.
My eyes stayed ahead of my feet and took in not one, but several puddles of growing volume between where I stood and the doorway of my bedroom. About the same time, I heard the quick pitter patter of little boy feet headed in the direction of the bathroom. Incredulous, I increased my pace as I made a beeline for the bathroom calling aloud to my son.
As I rounded the corner and stepped into the hall bath, I saw my son, bent over the side of the tub. In his hands was an Easter basket made of camo fabric. He finished filling it with water from the tub and ran, in his cute high-step fashion, to bring me the bucket of water as it quickly seeped--or rather RUSHED--out of the bottom. His face was alight with his ear-to-ear grin.
Needless to say, this was one moment filled with both laughter AND {loving} discipline.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
♥Ache
I haven't said the things that need to be said. Not because I don't care, but because I can't. I'm not ready. Still, there's a lot swirling in my mind...a mixture of grief and fear.
"I don't do it for the glory, I just do it anyway...And I will always do my duty, no matter what the price/I've counted up the cost, I know the sacrifice/Oh, and I don't wanna die for you, but if dying's asked of me/I'll bear that cross with honor, cuz freedom don't come free..." {"American Soldier"by Toby Keith}
"So lay me down/In that open field out on the edge of town/And know my soul/Is where my momma always prayed/That it would go/And if you're reading this/I'm already home...Just remember this/I'm in a better place/Where soldiers live in peace/And angels sing 'Amazing Grace'..." {"If You're Reading This" by Tim McGraw}
"Make it count." {The Duncans}
"Earn this." {Saving Private Ryan}
"...And I don't want the world to see me/Cuz I don't think that they'd understand..." {"Iris" by Goo Goo Dolls}
"...it's so hard livin' here on my own, so please come home soon..." {Come Home Soon by SheDaisy}
"Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends." {John 15:13}
"Today is your day. You're off to Great Places! You're off and away!...You'll be on your way up! You'll be seeing great sights! You'll join the high fliers who soar to high heights. You won't lag behind, because you'll have the speed. You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead. Wherever you fly, you'll be the best of the best. Wherever you go, you will top all the rest...Ready for anything under the sky. Ready because you're that kind of guy!" {"Oh, the Places You'll Go!" by Dr. Suess}
"...I miss you, been far away for far too long/I keep dreaming you'll be with me and you'll never go/Stop breathing if I don't see you anymore..." {"Far Away" by Nickelback}
"For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of love, and of power, and of a sound mind." {2 Timothy 1:7}
"I don't do it for the glory, I just do it anyway...And I will always do my duty, no matter what the price/I've counted up the cost, I know the sacrifice/Oh, and I don't wanna die for you, but if dying's asked of me/I'll bear that cross with honor, cuz freedom don't come free..." {"American Soldier"by Toby Keith}
"So lay me down/In that open field out on the edge of town/And know my soul/Is where my momma always prayed/That it would go/And if you're reading this/I'm already home...Just remember this/I'm in a better place/Where soldiers live in peace/And angels sing 'Amazing Grace'..." {"If You're Reading This" by Tim McGraw}
"Make it count." {The Duncans}
"Earn this." {Saving Private Ryan}
"...And I don't want the world to see me/Cuz I don't think that they'd understand..." {"Iris" by Goo Goo Dolls}
"...it's so hard livin' here on my own, so please come home soon..." {Come Home Soon by SheDaisy}
"Greater love has no one than this, that one lay down his life for his friends." {John 15:13}
"Today is your day. You're off to Great Places! You're off and away!...You'll be on your way up! You'll be seeing great sights! You'll join the high fliers who soar to high heights. You won't lag behind, because you'll have the speed. You'll pass the whole gang and you'll soon take the lead. Wherever you fly, you'll be the best of the best. Wherever you go, you will top all the rest...Ready for anything under the sky. Ready because you're that kind of guy!" {"Oh, the Places You'll Go!" by Dr. Suess}
"...I miss you, been far away for far too long/I keep dreaming you'll be with me and you'll never go/Stop breathing if I don't see you anymore..." {"Far Away" by Nickelback}
"For God has not given us a spirit of fear, but of love, and of power, and of a sound mind." {2 Timothy 1:7}
Friday, August 5, 2011
Still a Caterpillar
"How does one become a butterfly? You must want to fly so much that you are willing to give up being a caterpillar." ~Trina Paulus
Wow. I've been saying I want to change. I've been saying I want to be transformed into a whole new person, even. But am I willing to give up being a caterpillar?
"A young man asked Socrates the secret of success. Socrates told the young man to meet
him near the river the next morning. They met. Socrates asked the young man to walk with
him into the river. When the water got up to their neck, Socrates took the young man by
surprise and swiftly dunked him into the water.
The boy struggled to get out but Socrates was strong and kept him there until the boy
The boy struggled to get out but Socrates was strong and kept him there until the boy
started turning blue. Socrates pulled the boy's head out of the water and the first thing the
young man did was gasp and take a deep breath of air.
Socrates asked him, "What did you want the most when you were there?" The boy replied,
"Air." Socrates said, "That is the secret of success! When you want success as badly as you
wanted the air, then you will get it! There is no other secret."
{Quoted from consciouslivingfoundation.org, but this story was told to me over and over by my Dad}
Do I want to succeed as much as I want to breathe?
The short answer is no. I long to be a butterfly in flight, but alas, for now I remain a caterpillar until I am willing to give up being a caterpillar.
Thursday, August 4, 2011
{The Military Life}
"There's a fine line between love and hate. Love frees a soul and in the same breath can sometimes suffocate it."~Cecilia Ahern
Our life took a sudden, unexpected turn {from my plan} in April 2009 when we decided to join the National Guard. It's been a hard road.
While at a family dinner at a local steakhouse, the waitress began to talk to my sister and me about our husbands and military lives. Then came the zinger: "How do you like it?" I kept quiet and allowed my sister to field that question as she is much more positive than I am.
"I LOVE it! I wouldn't trade it for the world!" she answered. I admire her passion for the military.
So, how DO I like it?
I WOULD trade it for the world. For HALF the world, even.
Since my husband was sworn in, I've gone through an entire pregnancy--with complications, including an emergency cerclage and lots of extra doctor's appointments, the birth of our first child, and his first week; all without my husband. Once he began his deployment, we've celebrated birthdays and holidays, endured hospital stays, emergency room visits, the death of appliances, random home and car repairs, and hormonal imbalances; without my husband. I've had to modify my plan for our lives over and over. I've learned what sacrifice really means. My faith has been tested and as Iago {the parrot from Aladdin} said, "What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger."
Also since my husband was sworn in, I've grown closer to our families and closer to God. I've witnessed firsthand our families and a local church group work together to make our home a better place. I get to answer people who ask where my husband is, "He's in Kuwait!" and hear their grateful reply, "Thank him for his service!" I get to learn what sacrifice means. I keep thinking about my purpose in life; maybe one purpose is to give that others might get. I get to live God's plan for our lives.
On further contemplation, maybe I wouldn't trade it for the world. I wouldn't be who I am today without going on this adventure. AND my husband wouldn't be who he is today without going on this adventure.
An adventure it surely is. I'm just along for the ride!
Our life took a sudden, unexpected turn {from my plan} in April 2009 when we decided to join the National Guard. It's been a hard road.
While at a family dinner at a local steakhouse, the waitress began to talk to my sister and me about our husbands and military lives. Then came the zinger: "How do you like it?" I kept quiet and allowed my sister to field that question as she is much more positive than I am.
"I LOVE it! I wouldn't trade it for the world!" she answered. I admire her passion for the military.
So, how DO I like it?
I WOULD trade it for the world. For HALF the world, even.
Since my husband was sworn in, I've gone through an entire pregnancy--with complications, including an emergency cerclage and lots of extra doctor's appointments, the birth of our first child, and his first week; all without my husband. Once he began his deployment, we've celebrated birthdays and holidays, endured hospital stays, emergency room visits, the death of appliances, random home and car repairs, and hormonal imbalances; without my husband. I've had to modify my plan for our lives over and over. I've learned what sacrifice really means. My faith has been tested and as Iago {the parrot from Aladdin} said, "What doesn't kill you, makes you stronger."
Also since my husband was sworn in, I've grown closer to our families and closer to God. I've witnessed firsthand our families and a local church group work together to make our home a better place. I get to answer people who ask where my husband is, "He's in Kuwait!" and hear their grateful reply, "Thank him for his service!" I get to learn what sacrifice means. I keep thinking about my purpose in life; maybe one purpose is to give that others might get. I get to live God's plan for our lives.
On further contemplation, maybe I wouldn't trade it for the world. I wouldn't be who I am today without going on this adventure. AND my husband wouldn't be who he is today without going on this adventure.
An adventure it surely is. I'm just along for the ride!
{Mustard Seed}
How big is YOUR faith?
Mine is not even as big as one mustard seed.
"Then the disciples came to Jesus privately and said, 'Why could we not cast [the demon] out [of the child]? So Jesus said to them, 'Because of your unbelief; for assuredly, I say to you, if you have faith as a mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move; and nothing will be impossible for you..."
Sadly, my faith must be microscopic--even taking into account MUCH growth through the years!
Imagine a world where many people had faith ONLY the size of a mustard seed...
I suspect it would look a lot like heaven...
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
{Want It All}
I want it ALL.
YOU know. The 120-pound frame. The perfect shiny, long, curly hair {My hair is naturally straight, with a few waves, so of course curly hair is perfect}. The perpetually spotless house. The gourmet food at every meal. The doting husband. The fun-loving, obedient kid{s}.
I want to be the {PERFECT}ChristianWifeMommyHomemakerFriendSisterDaughterHousekeeperCookHostessEmployee
BookkeeperGardenerWriterReaderPlannerThinkerStudentChurch-GoerGiverTeacherTrainer
AND SO ON...
Guess what?
I. CAN'T. Period. No. EXCLAMATION POINT!
God has not even called me to be all these things. That's the world pressuring me and tempting me to do it all, have it all, be it all. So what HAS God called me to? {Glad you asked!}
I believe God has called me to be:
*A disciple of Christ.
~Disciple: "A person who is a pupil or an adherent of the doctrines of another; follower."
~"Go therefore and make disciples...teaching them to observe all things that I have commanded you..." {Matthew 28:19a, 20a}
*A helpmeet to Rhea.
~"And the Lord God said, 'It is not good that the man should be alone; I will make him a help meet for him.'" {Genesis 2:18}
*A trainer to Kendrick
~"Train up a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not depart from it." {Proverbs 22:6}
~"Correct your son , and he will give you rest; Yes, he will give delight to your soul." {Proverbs 29:17}
*A Homemaker
~"...the older women likewise...that they admonish the young women to love their husbands, to love their children, to be discreet, chaste, homemakers, good, obedient to their own husbands, that the word of God may not be blasphemed." {Titus 2:3a, 4-5}
If I stick to being who God has called me to be, He will sustain me.
And I will BE ALL I need, HAVE ALL I need, and DO ALL I need. ALL the God has called me to do, be, and have.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
Filter Finale
I'm been pretty proud of all I have accomplished today. My son has had a rash (that makes his skin feel like a pickle, so hereafter he will be referred to as Mr. Pickle) for about a week now. The doctor said he was probably contagious and not to have him around other children, therefore no church and no cousin birthday party. Sad.
Thus, I cleaned. I swept and dusted Mr. Pickle's room, I swept the entryway, I decluttered and cleaned the bathroom, and with some help, I moved my desk out of our bedroom. That's a lot for a Sunday.
I also tried to up my water intake today. I had filled our filtered water pitcher, so it was all ready to go for the day. I drank several glasses. I even refilled the pitcher.
Then tonight, when I went to fill up my glass once again, I saw it. Something floating in the water. Hanging from the filter. That's when I realized two things.
1. Something was growing in my filtered water pitcher.
And, 2. I had been drinking water all day that had touched that "growth."
I guess they're serious when they say you ought to replace your water filter every few months. 'Course, I'm the girl that didn't replace my vacuum filter for oh, about two years.
I think I'll take my chances with unfiltered water until I get that filter replaced...
Thus, I cleaned. I swept and dusted Mr. Pickle's room, I swept the entryway, I decluttered and cleaned the bathroom, and with some help, I moved my desk out of our bedroom. That's a lot for a Sunday.
I also tried to up my water intake today. I had filled our filtered water pitcher, so it was all ready to go for the day. I drank several glasses. I even refilled the pitcher.
Then tonight, when I went to fill up my glass once again, I saw it. Something floating in the water. Hanging from the filter. That's when I realized two things.
1. Something was growing in my filtered water pitcher.
And, 2. I had been drinking water all day that had touched that "growth."
I guess they're serious when they say you ought to replace your water filter every few months. 'Course, I'm the girl that didn't replace my vacuum filter for oh, about two years.
I think I'll take my chances with unfiltered water until I get that filter replaced...
Thursday, June 2, 2011
Happy Anniversary, Soldier of Mine!
June 2, 2007
The sun was shining and the birds were singing. Quite literally. It was the perfect day for a wedding. On that special day, four years ago, I married my best friend. For the first time, my husband is not here beside me to celebrate our anniversary. As I reflect on that day, I have to laugh a bit at our vows. I love the vows we chose. It's just that I had no idea on that day how true those words would be. And how difficult those words would be to live out. Still, as I reread portions of our wedding ceremony, I find my strength renewed.
Our Wedding Vows
{My Husband}
"I choose you to be my partner in love and in life. The Lord instructs me to be the one who is the head of the wife as Christ is the Head of the church [Ephesians 5:23].
I take you to be no other than whom God has created you to be
Loving what I know of you
Trusting what I do not yet know
With respect for your integrity
And faith in your love for me
Through all our years
And in all that life may bring us
It is my desire and delight to be your leader and love you as Christ loves the church. With all my heart, I make this solemn vow to you before God."
{Me}
"I choose you to be my partner in love and in life. The Lord instructs me as the one who will be your wife to submit to you as unto Him [Ephesians 5:22].
I take you to be no other than whom God has created you to be
Loving what I know of you
Trusting what I do not yet know
With respect for your integrity
And faith in your love for me
Through all our years
And in all that life may bring us
It is my desire and delight to be your helper as Our Father created woman to be [Genesis 2:18].
With all my heart, I make this solemn vow to you before God."
A Special Reading
"Joy is love singing
Peace is love resting
Longsuffering is love enduring
Gentleness is love's true touch
Goodness is love's character
Faithfulness is love's habit
Meekness is love's self-forgetfulness
Self-control is love holding the reins"
(Donald G. Barnhouse)
Ring Exchange
{Same for us both}
"With this ring, I thee wed: with my heart, I thee honor, with my soul, I thee love."
{Irish} Blessing
"May God give you...
For every storm, a rainbow,
For every tear, a smile,
For every care, a promise,
And a blessing in each trial."
The sun was shining and the birds were singing. Quite literally. It was the perfect day for a wedding. On that special day, four years ago, I married my best friend. For the first time, my husband is not here beside me to celebrate our anniversary. As I reflect on that day, I have to laugh a bit at our vows. I love the vows we chose. It's just that I had no idea on that day how true those words would be. And how difficult those words would be to live out. Still, as I reread portions of our wedding ceremony, I find my strength renewed.
Our Wedding Vows
{My Husband}
"I choose you to be my partner in love and in life. The Lord instructs me to be the one who is the head of the wife as Christ is the Head of the church [Ephesians 5:23].
I take you to be no other than whom God has created you to be
Loving what I know of you
Trusting what I do not yet know
With respect for your integrity
And faith in your love for me
Through all our years
And in all that life may bring us
It is my desire and delight to be your leader and love you as Christ loves the church. With all my heart, I make this solemn vow to you before God."
{Me}
"I choose you to be my partner in love and in life. The Lord instructs me as the one who will be your wife to submit to you as unto Him [Ephesians 5:22].
I take you to be no other than whom God has created you to be
Loving what I know of you
Trusting what I do not yet know
With respect for your integrity
And faith in your love for me
Through all our years
And in all that life may bring us
It is my desire and delight to be your helper as Our Father created woman to be [Genesis 2:18].
With all my heart, I make this solemn vow to you before God."
A Special Reading
"Joy is love singing
Peace is love resting
Longsuffering is love enduring
Gentleness is love's true touch
Goodness is love's character
Faithfulness is love's habit
Meekness is love's self-forgetfulness
Self-control is love holding the reins"
(Donald G. Barnhouse)
Ring Exchange
{Same for us both}
"With this ring, I thee wed: with my heart, I thee honor, with my soul, I thee love."
{Irish} Blessing
"May God give you...
For every storm, a rainbow,
For every tear, a smile,
For every care, a promise,
And a blessing in each trial."
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Life is Short
"Life is short. Eat dessert first."~Jacques Torres
My son is a true believer in this. Apparently.
He started crying at 6:45AM. I stumbled out of bed, went to his room, picked him up, went back to my room, and stuck him in bed with me to try to coax another half hour or more out of him.
At 7:15AM, he woke up again. STARVING. I threw him {gently} over the side of my bed thinking that he would follow me into the kitchen as I made his breakfast. He didn't.
After making his cereal and yogurt, I went back to my bedroom to see what the hold-up was. It seems he couldn't wait for me to MAKE breakfast.
There on my wood floors sat a small boy, legs out, hand in mouth...with a container of Golden Oreos perched on his lap. He gave me this look like, "Well? Something had to be done. My tummy was rumbling."
My son is a true believer in this. Apparently.
He started crying at 6:45AM. I stumbled out of bed, went to his room, picked him up, went back to my room, and stuck him in bed with me to try to coax another half hour or more out of him.
At 7:15AM, he woke up again. STARVING. I threw him {gently} over the side of my bed thinking that he would follow me into the kitchen as I made his breakfast. He didn't.
After making his cereal and yogurt, I went back to my bedroom to see what the hold-up was. It seems he couldn't wait for me to MAKE breakfast.
There on my wood floors sat a small boy, legs out, hand in mouth...with a container of Golden Oreos perched on his lap. He gave me this look like, "Well? Something had to be done. My tummy was rumbling."
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Broken Record
*Inside the confessional booth...beware ;) *
Here we go:
I'm tired of fighting the same battles day after day. Depression, dishes, routines, repairs, weight gain, worry...when does it end??
I know the answer. In Heaven. For now, however, I'm on Earth. I need a plan. A way to cope. Renewed strengh to keep fighting. I need some holiness in my day.
Holy=Set Apart
Of course, this generally means "set apart [for God's purpose]," so we typically think of Sundays, churches, etc. But, I need certain times of my day set apart for other specific purposes. And I need those times to be protected. Right now, I have theoretically set aside time to do my Bible study, to take my medication, to wash dishes, and so on, but I do not protect these times of day. I let other things interfere so frequently that these routines are little more than theory. They need to be put into practice. Daily. While I often need the motivation to get started, even more desperately, I need the discipline and perseverance to keep me going.
So maybe I already know how to win the battles of mental, physical, and emotional clutter. Maybe I already know the plan. I just need to pour my energy into fighting to protect those times of day set apart for activities that will help me win these battles. I need to pray over these times of day, these routines and activities, and pray against distraction.
And C, I'm gonna need that holy water!
Here we go:
I'm tired of fighting the same battles day after day. Depression, dishes, routines, repairs, weight gain, worry...when does it end??
I know the answer. In Heaven. For now, however, I'm on Earth. I need a plan. A way to cope. Renewed strengh to keep fighting. I need some holiness in my day.
Holy=Set Apart
Of course, this generally means "set apart [for God's purpose]," so we typically think of Sundays, churches, etc. But, I need certain times of my day set apart for other specific purposes. And I need those times to be protected. Right now, I have theoretically set aside time to do my Bible study, to take my medication, to wash dishes, and so on, but I do not protect these times of day. I let other things interfere so frequently that these routines are little more than theory. They need to be put into practice. Daily. While I often need the motivation to get started, even more desperately, I need the discipline and perseverance to keep me going.
So maybe I already know how to win the battles of mental, physical, and emotional clutter. Maybe I already know the plan. I just need to pour my energy into fighting to protect those times of day set apart for activities that will help me win these battles. I need to pray over these times of day, these routines and activities, and pray against distraction.
And C, I'm gonna need that holy water!
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Girl, Interrupted
At the beginning of this year...and again when my husband's training began...I made some promises to myself. Resolutions encouraging change. It's now March and you may be wondering how it is going.
Well. My progress keeps getting interrupted. LIFE continues to interrupt me. C'est la vie!
Eating well? All but thrown out the window lately. Working out? Haven't seen the inside of the gym for a month or so. Reading? Haven't been consistent with my Bible study since January. Or my other reading for that matter. Cleaning? Eh, it comes and goes. Morning and evening routines? Very sparse. Losing weight? Ha. I've gained back some weight. I'm staying steady around 140 pounds, so at least it's down from 148, but it's up from the 137.5 I had gotten down to.
So...I think you get the picture. There have been many things interfering with my many resolutions, but I've also tried to take on too much.
I recognize this place. I've been here before. MANY times. The question now is where do I go from here? How can I do better? I'm tired of always taking a left and going around and around.
"Insanity: Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."~Albert Einstein
Let's face it. This guy was a genius. Presumably, he knows what he's talking about. But what can I do differently to obtain the results I expect and thus regain my sanity? Maybe take a right instead this time?
Two words come to mind: baby steps. *Sigh* What does this mean? What does it look like? Where do I start?
Whoever thinks being a stay-at-home mom is easy has clearly never undertaken the job themselves.
{Special thanks to thinkexist.com}
Well. My progress keeps getting interrupted. LIFE continues to interrupt me. C'est la vie!
Eating well? All but thrown out the window lately. Working out? Haven't seen the inside of the gym for a month or so. Reading? Haven't been consistent with my Bible study since January. Or my other reading for that matter. Cleaning? Eh, it comes and goes. Morning and evening routines? Very sparse. Losing weight? Ha. I've gained back some weight. I'm staying steady around 140 pounds, so at least it's down from 148, but it's up from the 137.5 I had gotten down to.
So...I think you get the picture. There have been many things interfering with my many resolutions, but I've also tried to take on too much.
I recognize this place. I've been here before. MANY times. The question now is where do I go from here? How can I do better? I'm tired of always taking a left and going around and around.
"Insanity: Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results."~Albert Einstein
Let's face it. This guy was a genius. Presumably, he knows what he's talking about. But what can I do differently to obtain the results I expect and thus regain my sanity? Maybe take a right instead this time?
Two words come to mind: baby steps. *Sigh* What does this mean? What does it look like? Where do I start?
Whoever thinks being a stay-at-home mom is easy has clearly never undertaken the job themselves.
{Special thanks to thinkexist.com}
Tuesday, March 8, 2011
Smooth
A few days ago, I decided that the buck stops here. It had been two weeks since my husband left and our son was still not sleeping through the night in his own bed. His ear infection had cleared up, so it was a good time to break the habit. But, it's a process, of course.
The first night went well. I spent 20 minutes around 5AM firmly, but reassuringly, coaxing my son back to sleep in his own bed. Without much fuss, he caved and slept until 7:15AM in his own bed! The next night didn't go quite as well. To make a long story short, it involved paranoia and the realization that I had to break myself of the habit of having him in bed with me as much as I had to break him of the habit. Third time's a charm, right?
Actually, yes! Last night, I set my alarm for 6AM to jumpstart my morning routine. (I had to drop my normal morning routine due to the new sleeping arrangements) I heard that alarm go off this morning and I was confused. As I slowly woke up, I realized the alarm was the starter pistol to my morning routine. My son had slept through the night. In his own bed. ALL night. My first thought was "Hallelujah!" Quickly followed by, "Oh my gosh, is he alive?!" After listening outside his door and hearing his soft baby snores, I breathed a sigh of atonished relief. The Hallelujah chorus rang in my head.
I went about my morning routine and when I came to the portion of time designated to "get dressed to [my] shoes," I stopped short. The outfit I needed to wear was out in my car. No big deal. I mentally reminded myself to turn off the alarm so as not to wake my son and put on my shoes. I opened the front door and was immediately blind. I froze and tried to collect my thoughts. An unbelievably loud sound shook the house and reverberated in my ears. I raced to the alarm pad and frantically punched in the code praying it would bring silence before my eardrums burst. Finally, piercing silence reigned while utter chaos resounded in my head. As my heart raced, I aimed my hearing toward my son's room, sure that screams would be coming from that direction. Nothing. Just piercing silence. Confused and still a bit disoriented, I made my way to my son's room. Again nothing. I opened the door and all I heard was the soft purr of baby snores.
The scene from Mr. Holland's Opus with the firetruck horn and the sleeping baby in the stroller quickly replayed in my mind. How could I not notice if my son were deaf? My phone rang and I jumped. I retrieved it from the bedroom and gave the alarm company the necessary information which tells them "No, there's no emergency. It's just silly me!" As soon as I spoke aloud, my son began to cry. "So he's not deaf!" I rejoiced in my heart. "Smoooooth...now he's awake and I haven't even finished my routine."
Thankfully, after some prodding, he did go back to sleep and allowed me to finish my routine. In fact, he's still asleep. Maybe I should go listen for those baby snores...
The first night went well. I spent 20 minutes around 5AM firmly, but reassuringly, coaxing my son back to sleep in his own bed. Without much fuss, he caved and slept until 7:15AM in his own bed! The next night didn't go quite as well. To make a long story short, it involved paranoia and the realization that I had to break myself of the habit of having him in bed with me as much as I had to break him of the habit. Third time's a charm, right?
Actually, yes! Last night, I set my alarm for 6AM to jumpstart my morning routine. (I had to drop my normal morning routine due to the new sleeping arrangements) I heard that alarm go off this morning and I was confused. As I slowly woke up, I realized the alarm was the starter pistol to my morning routine. My son had slept through the night. In his own bed. ALL night. My first thought was "Hallelujah!" Quickly followed by, "Oh my gosh, is he alive?!" After listening outside his door and hearing his soft baby snores, I breathed a sigh of atonished relief. The Hallelujah chorus rang in my head.
I went about my morning routine and when I came to the portion of time designated to "get dressed to [my] shoes," I stopped short. The outfit I needed to wear was out in my car. No big deal. I mentally reminded myself to turn off the alarm so as not to wake my son and put on my shoes. I opened the front door and was immediately blind. I froze and tried to collect my thoughts. An unbelievably loud sound shook the house and reverberated in my ears. I raced to the alarm pad and frantically punched in the code praying it would bring silence before my eardrums burst. Finally, piercing silence reigned while utter chaos resounded in my head. As my heart raced, I aimed my hearing toward my son's room, sure that screams would be coming from that direction. Nothing. Just piercing silence. Confused and still a bit disoriented, I made my way to my son's room. Again nothing. I opened the door and all I heard was the soft purr of baby snores.
The scene from Mr. Holland's Opus with the firetruck horn and the sleeping baby in the stroller quickly replayed in my mind. How could I not notice if my son were deaf? My phone rang and I jumped. I retrieved it from the bedroom and gave the alarm company the necessary information which tells them "No, there's no emergency. It's just silly me!" As soon as I spoke aloud, my son began to cry. "So he's not deaf!" I rejoiced in my heart. "Smoooooth...now he's awake and I haven't even finished my routine."
Thankfully, after some prodding, he did go back to sleep and allowed me to finish my routine. In fact, he's still asleep. Maybe I should go listen for those baby snores...
Friday, February 25, 2011
Happy Birthday, Baby Boy!
One year ago today, I employed some different labor-inducing techniques to try to avoid an induction (which was to take place the following morning). The "trick" worked and my contractions became regular, so my OBGYN admitted me. I did what I could to get my labor to progress, but grew tired and decided to sleep instead (while I still had the chance!).
The next morning, I had barely progressed and finally, the decision was made to induce. I tried my hardest to do without any pain meds, but after half an hour on the pitocin, I opted for an epidural. The anethesiologist was in a c-section and unable to attend to me, so they gave me some other pain meds. All those did was make me dizzy! I grew very, um, impatient for the epidural, but after two hours on pitocin, I finally got my epidural. All I remember was trying to be as still as possible as he inserted the freakishly long needle into my spine. Then, I fell asleep. I vaguely remember being aware of Gilmore Girls being on TV, but I slept pretty hard.
When I woke up, the nurse asked me if I was ready to have a baby. I wasn't even fully awake yet! Panic set in, but excitement took over. Of course I was ready to meet my handsome boy!
So, at 12:42PM, my 7 lb. 13 oz. bundle of joy entered the world. I know everyone says it's love at first sight, but honestly, all I remember thinking was, "Aww, what a cute baby. But, that's not my baby. You guys did some kind of magic trick. No way was that beautiful baby inside my uterus just a few minutes ago!"
The whole experience was absolutely surreal. But, how I loved that little boy.
The hours that followed were a mixture of sadness {my husband was unable to come home from Army training} and joy as we got to know this little soul.
Truthfully, it was a rough time, emotionally, in my life. I was estranged from a couple of friends, my husband missed out on the birth and the first week of our son's life, and to top it off, postpartum depression hit me hard.
Yet, "for this child, I have prayed." {1 Samuel 1:27} After two {very early} miscarriages, I had carried this baby to full term. After being diagnosed with incompetent cervix and having an emergency cerclage at 19 weeks, I had carried this baby to full term. After 20 weekly shots of progesterone to help me hold the pregnancy, I had carried this baby to full term. With my husband away at Army Basic and training, I had carried this baby to full term. Thanks to my God and my family and friends, I had carried this baby to full term. At the end of the day, all that mattered was that our son had arrived safely. He was strong, healthy, intelligent, and handsome; EVERYTHING I had prayed for.
And yes, it was worth it all.
The next morning, I had barely progressed and finally, the decision was made to induce. I tried my hardest to do without any pain meds, but after half an hour on the pitocin, I opted for an epidural. The anethesiologist was in a c-section and unable to attend to me, so they gave me some other pain meds. All those did was make me dizzy! I grew very, um, impatient for the epidural, but after two hours on pitocin, I finally got my epidural. All I remember was trying to be as still as possible as he inserted the freakishly long needle into my spine. Then, I fell asleep. I vaguely remember being aware of Gilmore Girls being on TV, but I slept pretty hard.
When I woke up, the nurse asked me if I was ready to have a baby. I wasn't even fully awake yet! Panic set in, but excitement took over. Of course I was ready to meet my handsome boy!
So, at 12:42PM, my 7 lb. 13 oz. bundle of joy entered the world. I know everyone says it's love at first sight, but honestly, all I remember thinking was, "Aww, what a cute baby. But, that's not my baby. You guys did some kind of magic trick. No way was that beautiful baby inside my uterus just a few minutes ago!"
The whole experience was absolutely surreal. But, how I loved that little boy.
The hours that followed were a mixture of sadness {my husband was unable to come home from Army training} and joy as we got to know this little soul.
Truthfully, it was a rough time, emotionally, in my life. I was estranged from a couple of friends, my husband missed out on the birth and the first week of our son's life, and to top it off, postpartum depression hit me hard.
Yet, "for this child, I have prayed." {1 Samuel 1:27} After two {very early} miscarriages, I had carried this baby to full term. After being diagnosed with incompetent cervix and having an emergency cerclage at 19 weeks, I had carried this baby to full term. After 20 weekly shots of progesterone to help me hold the pregnancy, I had carried this baby to full term. With my husband away at Army Basic and training, I had carried this baby to full term. Thanks to my God and my family and friends, I had carried this baby to full term. At the end of the day, all that mattered was that our son had arrived safely. He was strong, healthy, intelligent, and handsome; EVERYTHING I had prayed for.
And yes, it was worth it all.
Friday, February 11, 2011
War Paint
The time has come for me to make our house a home. In fact, our poor house is long overdue. It's been a process for me to come to a place where I am able to begin tackling this project.
See, first I realized that even when I liked our house, I didn't take pride in it. I didn't take care of our house. I didn't adorn our house. I didn't get to know our house. Truth be told, I simply didn't want to put in the work. Within the last couple of months, a desire has grown in me to make our house our own. To change it, to update it, to add color that reflects me and my family. I have come up with SO many plans to accomplish this new goal. But, I didn't really follow through with any of them--until I bought tiny sample cans of paint a few days ago. This has spurred many other new ideas in both my husband and myself. Still, it initially inspired little action. I planned and planned, but I wasn't moving forward. I even asked my husband WHY he wasn't taking me seriously.
At last, this morning, it hit me. I haven't been taking MYSELF seriously. I have been thinking and planning, but I haven't taken action. How can I expect anyone else to take me seriously when I don't take myself seriously??
So, this morning, I put one of my plans in motion. My husband and I have talked about carpeting our house. It would be a pretty big ordeal because all of our knick knacks and smaller furniture would have to be packed up and moved to the kitchen or out of the house. Normally, I wouldn't do anything, but sit around and wait for my husband to get us motivated to take the necessary steps to get carpet. Today, however, I motivated myself. I packed up everything in our dining room. I wrapped all our decorations and china carefully, boxed it up, and stored it in our kitchen.
Once I was done, I was so proud of myself! I had quickly sorted through our things as I packed. Trash went in the trashcan and unloved items went in bags and boxes to be given away. Sure, there are still 4 more rooms to go...but 1 room is already complete!
As I washed the newspaper ink off my hands, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. I laughed at myself as I noticed two black streaks of ink across my forehead:
Bring it on, Living Room!
See, first I realized that even when I liked our house, I didn't take pride in it. I didn't take care of our house. I didn't adorn our house. I didn't get to know our house. Truth be told, I simply didn't want to put in the work. Within the last couple of months, a desire has grown in me to make our house our own. To change it, to update it, to add color that reflects me and my family. I have come up with SO many plans to accomplish this new goal. But, I didn't really follow through with any of them--until I bought tiny sample cans of paint a few days ago. This has spurred many other new ideas in both my husband and myself. Still, it initially inspired little action. I planned and planned, but I wasn't moving forward. I even asked my husband WHY he wasn't taking me seriously.
At last, this morning, it hit me. I haven't been taking MYSELF seriously. I have been thinking and planning, but I haven't taken action. How can I expect anyone else to take me seriously when I don't take myself seriously??
So, this morning, I put one of my plans in motion. My husband and I have talked about carpeting our house. It would be a pretty big ordeal because all of our knick knacks and smaller furniture would have to be packed up and moved to the kitchen or out of the house. Normally, I wouldn't do anything, but sit around and wait for my husband to get us motivated to take the necessary steps to get carpet. Today, however, I motivated myself. I packed up everything in our dining room. I wrapped all our decorations and china carefully, boxed it up, and stored it in our kitchen.
Once I was done, I was so proud of myself! I had quickly sorted through our things as I packed. Trash went in the trashcan and unloved items went in bags and boxes to be given away. Sure, there are still 4 more rooms to go...but 1 room is already complete!
As I washed the newspaper ink off my hands, I glanced at my reflection in the mirror. I laughed at myself as I noticed two black streaks of ink across my forehead:
{Hmm, I really need to pluck, lol!}
Battle scars from Room #1. I realized, too, that it would be my war paint for Room #2. These "scars" tell Room #2 and myself that I mean business. I've defeated one room, I can certainly defeat another.Bring it on, Living Room!
Breakfast of Champions
As I was shopping a couple of weeks ago, I looked for foods that would be healthier than the products I had been buying. I searched for granola, but couldn't find quite what I was looking for. Finally, I found this and thought, "That sounds good!" :
What wouldn't be healthy about getting 100% of your daily whole grains made of whole grain wheat and barley cereal??
Well, it is healthy. However. I now remember why I don't like to eat healthy. My breakfast of champions:
As you can see, it looked like ground beef in milk. I tried to look past that and took my first bite. *Crunch, crunch, crunch* My first thought was that it was bland. Then came the flavor. Baaad flavor. I am at a loss of words for even describing the awful taste it left in my mouth. I forced myself to at least swallow this one bit of healthy, "good-sounding" cereal. *Crunch, crunch, "Don't gag!", crunch, crunch* Finally I swallowed it. I stared at my ground beef-like cereal. The milk looked the most appetizing. And I despise milk. Needless to say, I drank most of the milk and left the cereal. Worst. Breakfast. EVER.
Thursday, February 10, 2011
Roasted Rodent, Phone Interview, and Burnt Toast
Believe it or not, this three things do go together. All three things were part of my day yesterday.
It all started when I decided to make a nice dinner for my husband and myself. {Are you beginning to see why I don't cook that often?} I put a pot of water on the stove to boil. I checked on my husband and son as they were fixing the leaking tub faucet. When I went back to check on my unwatched pot, sure that it would be boiling, I smelled something strange. I looked around the kitchen and stared at my newest jenga-tower of old leftovers discovered in the refrigerator the day before. Certain those leftovers couldn't smell good, I still wasn't convinced that was the source of this particular stench. I walked up to my boiling pot of water and the smell got much stronger. It was just water. In a pot. Why the smell?? I shrugged, thinking maybe my sense of smell was just {really} off. I opened the package of tortelloni, but I couldn't bring myself to put it in the smelly boiling water.
Finally, I called my husband into the kitchen as the smell just seemed to get worse and worse. He immediately detected the malodor now permeating throughout the house. He exclaimed, "It smells dead!" Not exactly the reaction I was looking for in regards to my nice dinner. However, it did confirm that my skyscraper of leftovers was not the source.
My husband sniffed and snooped, moving things around in the kitchen to pinpoint the epicenter. He moved the pot of boiling water, unplugged the burner, and groaned and he turned away from the stove. "That's what I was afraid of," he moaned. "You've been roasting a dead mouse!"
I'll spare you the gory details that followed. All I can say is that the next twenty minutes involved a lot of nose-pinching, gagging, and candle-lighting. Men always wonder why a woman needs to buy five candles every time she goes to one of those parties. Well men, now I can tell you why. It's for the day that your wife tries to make you a nice, Italian dinner and instead roasts a {dead} mouse. In fact, we would have appreciated having MORE candles on hand. And some air freshener.
Not two seconds after we--err, my husband--finished cleaning up the mess, my phone rang. "Oh that's her!" I told my husband as I tossed my son into his unexpectant arms and ran to the dining room.
Our local magazine is doing an article on Army wives and my mother-in-law (who'd just interviewed with them about her mom for an article on war brides) gave them my name and number as a resource. So, yesterday afternoon, with the reek of roasted rodent still burning my nostrils, I gave my very first interview. I was nervous, but I think it went well. I'm looking forward to seeing the article. It'll be weird to see my family's names in print, but how cool!
An hour later, when the interview was finished and the candles were the only aroma in the kitchen, I re-boiled my water. I cheated by microwaving the {canned} green beans and I burnt the garlic bread, but nonetheless, our meal turned out quite well.
It all started when I decided to make a nice dinner for my husband and myself. {Are you beginning to see why I don't cook that often?} I put a pot of water on the stove to boil. I checked on my husband and son as they were fixing the leaking tub faucet. When I went back to check on my unwatched pot, sure that it would be boiling, I smelled something strange. I looked around the kitchen and stared at my newest jenga-tower of old leftovers discovered in the refrigerator the day before. Certain those leftovers couldn't smell good, I still wasn't convinced that was the source of this particular stench. I walked up to my boiling pot of water and the smell got much stronger. It was just water. In a pot. Why the smell?? I shrugged, thinking maybe my sense of smell was just {really} off. I opened the package of tortelloni, but I couldn't bring myself to put it in the smelly boiling water.
Finally, I called my husband into the kitchen as the smell just seemed to get worse and worse. He immediately detected the malodor now permeating throughout the house. He exclaimed, "It smells dead!" Not exactly the reaction I was looking for in regards to my nice dinner. However, it did confirm that my skyscraper of leftovers was not the source.
My husband sniffed and snooped, moving things around in the kitchen to pinpoint the epicenter. He moved the pot of boiling water, unplugged the burner, and groaned and he turned away from the stove. "That's what I was afraid of," he moaned. "You've been roasting a dead mouse!"
I'll spare you the gory details that followed. All I can say is that the next twenty minutes involved a lot of nose-pinching, gagging, and candle-lighting. Men always wonder why a woman needs to buy five candles every time she goes to one of those parties. Well men, now I can tell you why. It's for the day that your wife tries to make you a nice, Italian dinner and instead roasts a {dead} mouse. In fact, we would have appreciated having MORE candles on hand. And some air freshener.
Not two seconds after we--err, my husband--finished cleaning up the mess, my phone rang. "Oh that's her!" I told my husband as I tossed my son into his unexpectant arms and ran to the dining room.
Our local magazine is doing an article on Army wives and my mother-in-law (who'd just interviewed with them about her mom for an article on war brides) gave them my name and number as a resource. So, yesterday afternoon, with the reek of roasted rodent still burning my nostrils, I gave my very first interview. I was nervous, but I think it went well. I'm looking forward to seeing the article. It'll be weird to see my family's names in print, but how cool!
An hour later, when the interview was finished and the candles were the only aroma in the kitchen, I re-boiled my water. I cheated by microwaving the {canned} green beans and I burnt the garlic bread, but nonetheless, our meal turned out quite well.
Wednesday, February 9, 2011
Diligence
{"constant and earnest effort to accomplish what is undertaken"~Dictionary.com}
Training and raising a child certainly requires diligence~~every moment of every day.
About a month ago, I began to teach my son to say, "Mmm, Mama!" to indicate when he was hungry. See, usually whenever he tried to alert me to the rumbling in his tummy or his readiness to partake in yet another bite, he would cry. Or whine. Or scream. It didn't really matter which method he chose; none of them were pleasing to the ear and had the tendency to set one's teeth on edge. Since he knew both "Mama" for me and "Mmm" for food, I decided to encourage him to combine the two into an acceptable phrase to replace the other noises he made.
He caught on very quickly. Not that he didn't need reminders from time to time, but he did very well. Then, it suddenly occurred to him that he didn't have to do things my way. He could choose to refuse to say, "Mmm, Mama!" He could go back to screaming instead. So, we tested my stubbornness against his. I continued to calmly remind him that "No" screaming was not an appropriate way to communicate that you are ready for the next bite.
Finally, he gave up and decided that maybe screaming wasn't the best route. After all, he didn't seem to get his next bite after whining his wishes. He only seemed to get that bite when he said the magic words.
This then brings us to yesterday...
We braved our local grocery store to stock up before the next big snowstorm hit. I plopped my son down in the seat of the cart and off we went to the produce section. As I examined the produce, his eyes lit up. Wide-eyed, he exclaimed, "MAMA, MMM!!" I laughed and said, "Yes, sweetheart. This is food, but we're here to shop, not to eat. We'll eat when we get back home." All throughout the store, growing in intensity at the yogurt cooler and again at the baby food aisle, he continued to announce with surprised enthusiasm, "MAMA, MMM! MMM, MAMA, MMM!!"
Hey, at least he learned to use his words, right?
Training and raising a child certainly requires diligence~~every moment of every day.
About a month ago, I began to teach my son to say, "Mmm, Mama!" to indicate when he was hungry. See, usually whenever he tried to alert me to the rumbling in his tummy or his readiness to partake in yet another bite, he would cry. Or whine. Or scream. It didn't really matter which method he chose; none of them were pleasing to the ear and had the tendency to set one's teeth on edge. Since he knew both "Mama" for me and "Mmm" for food, I decided to encourage him to combine the two into an acceptable phrase to replace the other noises he made.
He caught on very quickly. Not that he didn't need reminders from time to time, but he did very well. Then, it suddenly occurred to him that he didn't have to do things my way. He could choose to refuse to say, "Mmm, Mama!" He could go back to screaming instead. So, we tested my stubbornness against his. I continued to calmly remind him that "No" screaming was not an appropriate way to communicate that you are ready for the next bite.
Finally, he gave up and decided that maybe screaming wasn't the best route. After all, he didn't seem to get his next bite after whining his wishes. He only seemed to get that bite when he said the magic words.
This then brings us to yesterday...
We braved our local grocery store to stock up before the next big snowstorm hit. I plopped my son down in the seat of the cart and off we went to the produce section. As I examined the produce, his eyes lit up. Wide-eyed, he exclaimed, "MAMA, MMM!!" I laughed and said, "Yes, sweetheart. This is food, but we're here to shop, not to eat. We'll eat when we get back home." All throughout the store, growing in intensity at the yogurt cooler and again at the baby food aisle, he continued to announce with surprised enthusiasm, "MAMA, MMM! MMM, MAMA, MMM!!"
Hey, at least he learned to use his words, right?
Monday, February 7, 2011
Break Time
Saturday night I went to bed late, so I gave myself a "break" from having to do my Before Bed routine.
Then Sunday night, I debated about giving myself another "break"...until I realized that the real BREAK is actually doing my routine!
When I do my Before Bed routine, it makes my morning go so much more smoothly, giving me a BREAK from running around like a chicken with my head cut off! Or sleeping until my son finally drags me out of bed with his screaming. And of course, the best break of all will be when these things that I do each evening and each morning are second-nature and it feels funny NOT to do them. {Though I must remind myself: "Focus on the journey, not the destination. Joy is found not in finishing an activity, but in doing it."~Greg Anderson}
I can tell I'm on that road already. Less and less do I have to look up at the road signs to make sure I'm going the right direction. I find myself remembering to turn right ahead and then make a left turn. I gotta say, I really like memorizing my "drive" to work. It makes life so much easier!
"The road of life twists and turns and no two directions are ever the same. Yet our lessons come from the journey, not the destination."~Don Williams, Jr.
Babysteps, babysteps!
"To get through the hardest journey we need take only one step at a time, but we must keep on stepping."~Chinese proverb
Then Sunday night, I debated about giving myself another "break"...until I realized that the real BREAK is actually doing my routine!
When I do my Before Bed routine, it makes my morning go so much more smoothly, giving me a BREAK from running around like a chicken with my head cut off! Or sleeping until my son finally drags me out of bed with his screaming. And of course, the best break of all will be when these things that I do each evening and each morning are second-nature and it feels funny NOT to do them. {Though I must remind myself: "Focus on the journey, not the destination. Joy is found not in finishing an activity, but in doing it."~Greg Anderson}
I can tell I'm on that road already. Less and less do I have to look up at the road signs to make sure I'm going the right direction. I find myself remembering to turn right ahead and then make a left turn. I gotta say, I really like memorizing my "drive" to work. It makes life so much easier!
"The road of life twists and turns and no two directions are ever the same. Yet our lessons come from the journey, not the destination."~Don Williams, Jr.
Babysteps, babysteps!
"To get through the hardest journey we need take only one step at a time, but we must keep on stepping."~Chinese proverb
Wednesday, February 2, 2011
Practice Makes Perfect!
Well...almost ;)
We're told this all our lives. I am going to let you in on a little secret though: *whispers* I'm not perfect. I'm not EVER going to be perfect.
Not in this life anyway. I'm looking forward to the amazing upgrade I'll get in the next life :)
While the saying "Practice makes perfect" is untrue and a completely unrealistic goal, this by no means diminishes the importance of practice. I'm learning a lot about practice in trying to set new habits. There are obstacles all along the way, but if you persevere and continue to practice to set that habit concretely in your life, the payoff will be quite rewarding. At least, that's what I'm hoping ;)
I've told myself that I don't need to practice my routines unless I'm at home. Finally this evening, truth broke through. Yes, I do need to continue to practice my routines so that they will become second nature--regardless of where I am. While I may not be able to do them exactly according to my plan, I should do them as closely to how I would do them at home as possible.
So tonight, I practiced. I went through my evening routine. I may not have my own bedroom, living room, kitchen, etc., but I do have my own things. Therefore, I can pick up my clothes, papers, bags, and so on and declutter.
As I was going through my routine, I had a revelation: I THRIVE on routines. It energizes me and gives me a sense of accomplishment.
So, here's to many more evenings (and mornings!) of practicing routines until they are perfe--uh, sufficient!
We're told this all our lives. I am going to let you in on a little secret though: *whispers* I'm not perfect. I'm not EVER going to be perfect.
Not in this life anyway. I'm looking forward to the amazing upgrade I'll get in the next life :)
While the saying "Practice makes perfect" is untrue and a completely unrealistic goal, this by no means diminishes the importance of practice. I'm learning a lot about practice in trying to set new habits. There are obstacles all along the way, but if you persevere and continue to practice to set that habit concretely in your life, the payoff will be quite rewarding. At least, that's what I'm hoping ;)
I've told myself that I don't need to practice my routines unless I'm at home. Finally this evening, truth broke through. Yes, I do need to continue to practice my routines so that they will become second nature--regardless of where I am. While I may not be able to do them exactly according to my plan, I should do them as closely to how I would do them at home as possible.
So tonight, I practiced. I went through my evening routine. I may not have my own bedroom, living room, kitchen, etc., but I do have my own things. Therefore, I can pick up my clothes, papers, bags, and so on and declutter.
As I was going through my routine, I had a revelation: I THRIVE on routines. It energizes me and gives me a sense of accomplishment.
So, here's to many more evenings (and mornings!) of practicing routines until they are perfe--uh, sufficient!
Monday, January 31, 2011
Training
Yesterday, my son and I went to church for the first time in several months. Thanks to God waking me up, we even got there in time for Sunday school! My sister and brother-in-law visited the church that I went to as a teenager--and that my parents still attend--last week, so we decided to go to church with them and with my parents.
Anyway, I dropped my son off in the nursery and while he was clingy at first, after his traditional two hugs and a few kisses, he was good to go. We had a great classtime in Sunday school and then it was time for service. I picked my son up from the nursery letting the nursery workers know that I would be bringing him back once the message began.
I love to have my son in the music part of "big" service for many reasons. First of all, I believe music is the first way that children learn to praise God. Secondly, at the beginning of the service there are announcements and prayers, so this gives my son a reasonably short amount of time to begin to practice being quiet and respectful during service. And finally, I train myself during this time too!
That may not make sense at first glance, but it's true! I need just as much training at having him with me during service as he needs at being in service. See, I'll find myself getting bored and start playing with him. This completely contradicts every "Shh" and "No" I say to him. If I am to train him to be respectful during church, that it is not a time of play, but of worship, then I must first set an example by not only being respectful and worshiping, but also by not making him my toy.
Anyway, I dropped my son off in the nursery and while he was clingy at first, after his traditional two hugs and a few kisses, he was good to go. We had a great classtime in Sunday school and then it was time for service. I picked my son up from the nursery letting the nursery workers know that I would be bringing him back once the message began.
I love to have my son in the music part of "big" service for many reasons. First of all, I believe music is the first way that children learn to praise God. Secondly, at the beginning of the service there are announcements and prayers, so this gives my son a reasonably short amount of time to begin to practice being quiet and respectful during service. And finally, I train myself during this time too!
That may not make sense at first glance, but it's true! I need just as much training at having him with me during service as he needs at being in service. See, I'll find myself getting bored and start playing with him. This completely contradicts every "Shh" and "No" I say to him. If I am to train him to be respectful during church, that it is not a time of play, but of worship, then I must first set an example by not only being respectful and worshiping, but also by not making him my toy.
Monday, January 24, 2011
Babysteps
So, I'm the jump-in-with-both-feet type of person. The get-a-bright-idea-and-overdo-it-crash-and-burn kind of girl.
My friend introduced me to FlyLady many years ago. I tried and tried, but never could quite get it. Mainly because everytime she said, "Babysteps, babysteps, babysteps!" I heard the Charlie Brown teacher say, "Wah-wah, wah-wah, wah-wah!"
Don't get me wrong. I LOVE FlyLady! It's just that for some reason, I thought I was above having to do it in babysteps. She warned me I would crash and burn, yet every time just like the time before, I would say to myself, "Not this time, FlyLady! I'll do it MY way and I WILL succeed!" Yet flat on my face I would fall. And instead of getting back up, I would just lay there and moan.
In the past couple of days, I have finished reading FlyLady's books, Sink Reflections and Body Clutter. Again, I heard the warnings and heard her emphasize babysteps. Still, in the beginning, I didn't really heeded that. I began to crash and burn over the past couple of weeks. Everything was slipping. My 365 project, my exercise, my weight loss, my calorie goals. My reading was the one thing that I stayed on top of consistently.
Finally, I began to pull myself back up and say, "No. Just because I fall does not mean I have to fail. I will get back up. I will try again. I WILL do this."
So, babysteps. I started a Before Bed Routine and a Morning Routine. I haven't done it perfectly everyday. But, I have buckled down and tried to just get through it, even if it wasn't perfect. I am beginning to see progress! Hallelujah! I think about jumping ahead and how I could do things better, more perfectly, and I stop myself. Just doing it for now is enough. I can add and improve later. Slowly. I want it to stick this time. It WILL stick this time.
I have amended one of FlyLady's favorite sayings and I believe it will become my new mantra: "Perseverance and progress, not perfection."
Happy Monday, everyone!
My friend introduced me to FlyLady many years ago. I tried and tried, but never could quite get it. Mainly because everytime she said, "Babysteps, babysteps, babysteps!" I heard the Charlie Brown teacher say, "Wah-wah, wah-wah, wah-wah!"
Don't get me wrong. I LOVE FlyLady! It's just that for some reason, I thought I was above having to do it in babysteps. She warned me I would crash and burn, yet every time just like the time before, I would say to myself, "Not this time, FlyLady! I'll do it MY way and I WILL succeed!" Yet flat on my face I would fall. And instead of getting back up, I would just lay there and moan.
In the past couple of days, I have finished reading FlyLady's books, Sink Reflections and Body Clutter. Again, I heard the warnings and heard her emphasize babysteps. Still, in the beginning, I didn't really heeded that. I began to crash and burn over the past couple of weeks. Everything was slipping. My 365 project, my exercise, my weight loss, my calorie goals. My reading was the one thing that I stayed on top of consistently.
Finally, I began to pull myself back up and say, "No. Just because I fall does not mean I have to fail. I will get back up. I will try again. I WILL do this."
So, babysteps. I started a Before Bed Routine and a Morning Routine. I haven't done it perfectly everyday. But, I have buckled down and tried to just get through it, even if it wasn't perfect. I am beginning to see progress! Hallelujah! I think about jumping ahead and how I could do things better, more perfectly, and I stop myself. Just doing it for now is enough. I can add and improve later. Slowly. I want it to stick this time. It WILL stick this time.
I have amended one of FlyLady's favorite sayings and I believe it will become my new mantra: "Perseverance and progress, not perfection."
Happy Monday, everyone!
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Struggles and Routines
I have truly struggled this past week. We went out of town last weekend, and while I did keep up with my resolutions, that seemed to start a downslide. Day by day, I seemed to be doing less and less, sleeping more, and feeling worse. I was still taking my magic pill, so I couldn't figure out what was wrong.
Yesterday, I really just didn't feel well. My anxiety had sky-rocketed to the point that my hands were even shaky. Even though I had taken my pill the night before, I was ADD to the point that I couldn't concentrate on finding my cell phone charger, working, or making coffee. Finally, I realized one small thing: I had to allow myself to feel off.
This past week, we started receiving emails from the Guard informing us of upcoming dates for my husband. We found out he would be gone three weekends in a row, unexpectedly. Then yesterday, he got his official deployment orders. No wonder I was feeling off! (Although that wasn't all of it) As much as I may not want to admit it to myself, much less others, I am anxious. I am anxious for my husband, for my son, and for myself. I want to be able to handle this deployment in a healthy manner and not sink into depression. Because this past year has overflowed with its own trials, I have somewhat ignored the upcoming deployment. It has always been in the back of my mind and I have formed plans and strategies to not only survive, but to thrive. But, now I must accept it and face it head-on.
I was talking to my mother-in-law yesterday and she started asking me questions about my routine: when I was feeling great, was I doing something differently than I had this past week? When do I drink my coffee? Take my pills? I started to notice that she had figured out a big part of the puzzle. My routine was different over the weekend and this past week than it has been the week before. She suggested I go back to my original routine (with a few minor changes) and be purposeful about making it the same everyday. She also reminded me that not every day is going to be good. There will be bad days and that's okay. God has given me so many opportunities lately to learn this valuable lesson from FlyLady: "Progress not perfection."
So, last night in the spirit of progress, I planned out my morning routine (yet again, hehe) and this morning I executed my new plan. I got up at the previously decided-on time. I took my pill before I got out of bed. I made coffee and breakfast. My son got up earlier than I expected, so I took time out to make his breakfast and feed him, then went back to my routine. I ate my breakfast, drank my coffee, wrote in my prayer journal. I read this month's fiction book. Then it was time for my son to take his first nap. I had decided I would work during his nap. As I sat at my desk to begin typing, I realized that I felt GREAT. We thought it might take a few days to adjust (and I can't speak for any future days yet), but today has gone great. It hasn't been perfect. My house is not spotless. But. I feel good. I've read books, written in my journals, entered data for work, and I'll be going to the gym once my son wakes up.
Now that I know that it makes a difference, I need to protect the time that I take my pill, drink my coffee, and talk with God. I should not allow sleep or my computer or anything else to take away that sacred time. It's how I need to begin my day. It's a choice: do I want to have a good day, a productive day and feel great? Or do I want to feel heavy and lethargic and accomplish next to nothing? (I do still manage to take care of my child on these days, so that counts as accomplishing something ;) ) And secondly, I need to allow myself to not be perfect, to feel anxious, to feel down or "off."
Well, I hear my son, so it's off to the gym and then to enjoy the rest of my day!
Yesterday, I really just didn't feel well. My anxiety had sky-rocketed to the point that my hands were even shaky. Even though I had taken my pill the night before, I was ADD to the point that I couldn't concentrate on finding my cell phone charger, working, or making coffee. Finally, I realized one small thing: I had to allow myself to feel off.
This past week, we started receiving emails from the Guard informing us of upcoming dates for my husband. We found out he would be gone three weekends in a row, unexpectedly. Then yesterday, he got his official deployment orders. No wonder I was feeling off! (Although that wasn't all of it) As much as I may not want to admit it to myself, much less others, I am anxious. I am anxious for my husband, for my son, and for myself. I want to be able to handle this deployment in a healthy manner and not sink into depression. Because this past year has overflowed with its own trials, I have somewhat ignored the upcoming deployment. It has always been in the back of my mind and I have formed plans and strategies to not only survive, but to thrive. But, now I must accept it and face it head-on.
I was talking to my mother-in-law yesterday and she started asking me questions about my routine: when I was feeling great, was I doing something differently than I had this past week? When do I drink my coffee? Take my pills? I started to notice that she had figured out a big part of the puzzle. My routine was different over the weekend and this past week than it has been the week before. She suggested I go back to my original routine (with a few minor changes) and be purposeful about making it the same everyday. She also reminded me that not every day is going to be good. There will be bad days and that's okay. God has given me so many opportunities lately to learn this valuable lesson from FlyLady: "Progress not perfection."
So, last night in the spirit of progress, I planned out my morning routine (yet again, hehe) and this morning I executed my new plan. I got up at the previously decided-on time. I took my pill before I got out of bed. I made coffee and breakfast. My son got up earlier than I expected, so I took time out to make his breakfast and feed him, then went back to my routine. I ate my breakfast, drank my coffee, wrote in my prayer journal. I read this month's fiction book. Then it was time for my son to take his first nap. I had decided I would work during his nap. As I sat at my desk to begin typing, I realized that I felt GREAT. We thought it might take a few days to adjust (and I can't speak for any future days yet), but today has gone great. It hasn't been perfect. My house is not spotless. But. I feel good. I've read books, written in my journals, entered data for work, and I'll be going to the gym once my son wakes up.
Now that I know that it makes a difference, I need to protect the time that I take my pill, drink my coffee, and talk with God. I should not allow sleep or my computer or anything else to take away that sacred time. It's how I need to begin my day. It's a choice: do I want to have a good day, a productive day and feel great? Or do I want to feel heavy and lethargic and accomplish next to nothing? (I do still manage to take care of my child on these days, so that counts as accomplishing something ;) ) And secondly, I need to allow myself to not be perfect, to feel anxious, to feel down or "off."
Well, I hear my son, so it's off to the gym and then to enjoy the rest of my day!
Monday, January 10, 2011
Pants on the Ground
♪ "Pants...[er, diapers] on the ground, [diapers] on the ground. Feelin' like a fool with my [diaper] on the ground!" ♪
As usual, when my husband came home today, I prompted my son: "Go see who's at the door! Look who's here!" Once my son could see that it was his daddy, he grinned from ear to ear and crawled as fast as he could to welcome his dad home. My husband scooped him up and gave him a big hug. Then he sat down in a chair and put Kendrick on his lap.
It was at that moment that we saw it. A huge bulge around Kendrick's leg.
My husband said, "What is that?!" I assured him I had no idea. He proceeded to take off our son's clothes, but where the diaper should be, there was only nakedness.
I started laughing and snatched him off of my husband's lap and rushed him toward our changing area. I heard from behind me, "You're lucky he didn't poop!"
I finished undressing our son and lo and behold, found the diaper wrapped around his right leg like a shin guard.
Miracles do happen.
{No diapers were harmed in the making of this blog}
Friday, January 7, 2011
Magic Pill
So, I may not have my medication (yet), but I do have a magic pill! I just have to take it :) Or in this case hide it "in my heart." {Psalm 119:11}
{This is a compilation of verses that have either been "given" to me or that I have found on my own that I have found to be helpful especially at certain times.}
{When You Are Anxious}
"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and suppliation, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." {Philippians 4:6}
"And my God will supply all [my] needs accordin according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus." {Philippians 4:19}
{When You Wonder How to Live Your Life}
"Study and be eager and do [my] utmost to present [my]self to God approved (tested by trial), a workman who has no cause to be ashamed, correctly analyzing and accurately dividing [rightly handling and skillfully teaching] the Word of Truth." {2 Timothy 2:15}
"He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your fathers had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord." {Deuteronomy 8:3} {emphasis added}
{And my personal favorite right now...When You Feel Insane}
"For God has not given [me] a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." {2 Timothy 1:7} {emphasis added}
{This is a compilation of verses that have either been "given" to me or that I have found on my own that I have found to be helpful especially at certain times.}
{When You Are Anxious}
"Be anxious for nothing, but in everything by prayer and suppliation, with thanksgiving, let your requests be made known to God. And the peace of God, which transcends all understanding, will guard your hearts and your minds in Christ Jesus." {Philippians 4:6}
"And my God will supply all [my] needs accordin according to His riches in glory in Christ Jesus." {Philippians 4:19}
{When You Wonder How to Live Your Life}
"Study and be eager and do [my] utmost to present [my]self to God approved (tested by trial), a workman who has no cause to be ashamed, correctly analyzing and accurately dividing [rightly handling and skillfully teaching] the Word of Truth." {2 Timothy 2:15}
"He humbled you, causing you to hunger and then feeding you with manna, which neither you nor your fathers had known, to teach you that man does not live on bread alone but on every word that comes from the mouth of the Lord." {Deuteronomy 8:3} {emphasis added}
{And my personal favorite right now...When You Feel Insane}
"For God has not given [me] a spirit of fear, but of power and of love and of a sound mind." {2 Timothy 1:7} {emphasis added}
Thursday, January 6, 2011
Mental Health
{Inside the Confessional Booth}
I'm not taking care of myself. Not the way I should. My husband is constantly reminding me to take my pills. Sometimes I do think about taking them, but I don't go do it. I don't know why. When I take them for a few days in a row, I feel SO GREAT. But, when I start missing doses (which happens frequently), I feel AWFUL.
I was supposed to have an appointment with my doctor last week to follow-up and see how the medication was working. I missed it, though, because I was cleaning my house to get ready for a showing. Instead of calling right away or even the next day, I didn't call until this morning--once I realized I had taken my last pill...yesterday. Just my luck (and well-deserved), the doctor wasn't in. So, I'm operating without my magic pill today.
I've noticed (mainly from my husband pointing it out) that I go through stages when I skip doses. First, I get ADD. I completely lose my concentration. As my husband says, I "walk around in circles." After that, I get tired and my every action slows down; I sleep more. Finally, I become impatient, snippy, angry, and I cry. This is anything but fun. The medicine, however, levels out my hormones and makes me feel like ME. I gain back my energy, motivation, optimism, and creativity. But, as FlyLady says, "The trouble with a magic pill is that it doesn't work unless you take it." SO true.
I'll be calling the doctor again in the morning and I'm praying that he will call in a prescription, so I can get back on track with being me.
{Special thanks to Body Clutter by Marla Cilley and Leanne Fly from which I took the above quote.}
I'm not taking care of myself. Not the way I should. My husband is constantly reminding me to take my pills. Sometimes I do think about taking them, but I don't go do it. I don't know why. When I take them for a few days in a row, I feel SO GREAT. But, when I start missing doses (which happens frequently), I feel AWFUL.
I was supposed to have an appointment with my doctor last week to follow-up and see how the medication was working. I missed it, though, because I was cleaning my house to get ready for a showing. Instead of calling right away or even the next day, I didn't call until this morning--once I realized I had taken my last pill...yesterday. Just my luck (and well-deserved), the doctor wasn't in. So, I'm operating without my magic pill today.
I've noticed (mainly from my husband pointing it out) that I go through stages when I skip doses. First, I get ADD. I completely lose my concentration. As my husband says, I "walk around in circles." After that, I get tired and my every action slows down; I sleep more. Finally, I become impatient, snippy, angry, and I cry. This is anything but fun. The medicine, however, levels out my hormones and makes me feel like ME. I gain back my energy, motivation, optimism, and creativity. But, as FlyLady says, "The trouble with a magic pill is that it doesn't work unless you take it." SO true.
I'll be calling the doctor again in the morning and I'm praying that he will call in a prescription, so I can get back on track with being me.
{Special thanks to Body Clutter by Marla Cilley and Leanne Fly from which I took the above quote.}
Organization 201
...or 102...or 202...whatever comes after 101!
The other night, my mother-in-law came over to drop off a few things. Well, of course, we started talking and I had to show her my new, pretty organizational supplies. I was telling her how I couldn't wait to get my desk moved out of our "storage room" (our extra bedroom) and all set up with my new things, but that it would be awhile because I had to forge a path to the desk (which was against the far wall), put down a new floor in the kitchen, and move the refrigerator before I could move the desk in. Right then and there, she offered to help me move it. So together, we cleared out enough space to get the desk out. We were going to put it in a temporary location, but then we decided to move the fridge and put it where I wanted it, even though we didn't have our new floor down. To make a long story short(er), it was quite a process, but we got it all moved in.
I spent all the next morning setting up my beautiful trays, bins, and boxes. Then I got a brilliant idea to re-cover my desk chair. I asked my mother-in-law if it was possible and after she said yes, she again offered to come over and help me. So, I went to the fabric store, picked out a beautiful green on white damask, and we spent that evening reupholtering my chair.
I am normally terrible at anything involving fabric, but it turned out FANTASTIC! And my new "office" space looks great! I learned a lot during this process, too. First of all, there are a few tools you should have in your house (that I did not...): an iron, a glue gun (don't forget the glue sticks!), and a (loaded) staple gun. These last two in particular are a woman's duck tape. I also learned that it's not hard to reupholster a desk chair; and you can save about $75. It cost me $17 (for the batting and fabric) + the cost of a glue gun and glue sticks (approximately $10), and I borrowed a staple gun and staples. I spent a total of $27 and the cost of a similar chair, new, would have been $100+. And I don't think I would have liked a new one nearly as much as I like this one. That's the great thing about upholstering furniture yourself: it's unique!
It's no shiny sink, but still, every time I see my desk and/or my chair, it makes me smile.
Check it out:
And that's it for now! I have a few more ideas to make this area absolutely perfect, but after my crazed office supply shopping spree, I should probably save up the money first. ;)
Wednesday, January 5, 2011
To Clutter or Not to Clutter
Every time I return to my house after being gone for a couple of days or even a couple of hours, I brace myself. I dread the sight I'm destined to see when I open the door: clutter.
We spent a few days with my family this past weekend and on the way home, I asked my husband, "Was our house clean when we left?" I thought it was, but that couldn't be possible, could it? He affirmed my memory, but still I dreaded opening that front door.
True to my routine, I braced myself as I entered the house. I looked left into the living room: no clutter. I looked right into the dining room: also clutter-free. I peeked into the kitchen: a couple of dishes in the sink, but the counters were clean, and I remembered that the dishwasher was full...of clean dishes. I stared into the bathroom: absolutely no clutter and clean. I glanced into my son's room: while his shelves and closet do need work, everything else was orderly. Surely this final room would be a wreck. I stood dumbfounded in the doorway of our bedroom suite. The toys were picked up, the surfaces were clean and uncluttered, even the couch was lacking of its usual piles. Okay, so the bed wasn't made, but all in all, even our bedroom was neat and tidy. As I looked around at our home, I realized something profound: I could breathe. There were no longer massive amounts of clutter to suffocate me.
Now, granted, we have one bedroom that we use for storage, so this room still needs to be attacked as well as our closets and a few bookshelves. But, things have come a LONG way.
FlyLady, I can't wait to take my first babystep: shine my sink! I know you will help me keep my house looking like a peaceful home.
Bless your home and breathe easy, my friends.
{This peaceful, clutter-free home would not have been made possible without my wonderful husband who jump-started the whole process by giving me a great gift the day before Christmas--two loads of dishes washed and three loads of laundry washed, dried, and put away--or our awesome God who keeps me filled with His love, joy, and peace and has blessed me with Cymbalta and coffee.}
We spent a few days with my family this past weekend and on the way home, I asked my husband, "Was our house clean when we left?" I thought it was, but that couldn't be possible, could it? He affirmed my memory, but still I dreaded opening that front door.
True to my routine, I braced myself as I entered the house. I looked left into the living room: no clutter. I looked right into the dining room: also clutter-free. I peeked into the kitchen: a couple of dishes in the sink, but the counters were clean, and I remembered that the dishwasher was full...of clean dishes. I stared into the bathroom: absolutely no clutter and clean. I glanced into my son's room: while his shelves and closet do need work, everything else was orderly. Surely this final room would be a wreck. I stood dumbfounded in the doorway of our bedroom suite. The toys were picked up, the surfaces were clean and uncluttered, even the couch was lacking of its usual piles. Okay, so the bed wasn't made, but all in all, even our bedroom was neat and tidy. As I looked around at our home, I realized something profound: I could breathe. There were no longer massive amounts of clutter to suffocate me.
Now, granted, we have one bedroom that we use for storage, so this room still needs to be attacked as well as our closets and a few bookshelves. But, things have come a LONG way.
FlyLady, I can't wait to take my first babystep: shine my sink! I know you will help me keep my house looking like a peaceful home.
Bless your home and breathe easy, my friends.
{This peaceful, clutter-free home would not have been made possible without my wonderful husband who jump-started the whole process by giving me a great gift the day before Christmas--two loads of dishes washed and three loads of laundry washed, dried, and put away--or our awesome God who keeps me filled with His love, joy, and peace and has blessed me with Cymbalta and coffee.}
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Organization 101
I LOVE to organize and plan. I especially love to go to office supply stores. Every fall, I looked forward to buying school supplies. This year, I finally decided I was far enough removed from college that I should start referring to "school supplies" as "office supplies."
This afternoon, my dad asked if anyone would like to go to an office supply store with him. I practically jumped up and down, waving my arms, saying "I DO! I DO!!!"
He had no idea what he'd signed up for. As my dad recounted the events to our family later, he said, "You know, I should have realized how much trouble I was in when she said she had to go back for a cart."
See, it all started with planners. I ADORE planners. And my dad needed a new planner. So, to the calendar aisle we went. I dutifully helped him to pick out the perfect pocket planner. Then, I found a planner for myself. This little green goblin started it all:
After the planner, I spotted THE MOST chic desk organization boxes. I went...a little crazy. I piled turquoise, black, white, and green file folders, picture boxes, document boxes, and desk organizers into my quickly-filling cart along with pink rubberbands, push pins, paper clips, and binder clips.
Over an hour later, when I finally wheeled my cart up to the front, it was chock full of {beautiful} organization pieces and office supplies. The poor cashier stuffed one plastic bag after another. I told him I hoped he was getting a break soon. {I think} he replied that he wasn't taking a lunch break today. By the time he finally gave me my *gulp* total, he told his manager that he was taking his lunch break in 2 minutes. I have a feeling he was going to ice his sore muscles. Hopefully he got some kind of bonus from my addiction.
My dad and I piled the bags into the passenger side of the cab. Finally, we decided it would be safest to close the door and start stuffing from the driver's side. Surprisingly, all of my new acquisitions fit as did both of us.
On the way home, I told my dad that I was gonna have to change the name of my blog to {Confessions of a Shopaholic}, but he told me that I don't have this problem with all kinds of shopping. So, I decided the new name would have to be {Confessions of an Office Supply Junkie}.
Should you think this story is simply an example of creative license and witty hyperbole, I have decided to include the embarrassing proof:
Yes, that's right, it took not one but TWO strapping young men to haul my cargo. After my husband recovered from the shock of the evidence of my addiction, he informed me that I am not allowed to buy anymore school supplies until Kendrick goes off to college.
{Dear Mrs. Local Family-Owned Business--you know who you are ;)--I may need at least a part-time job to pay off my office supply debts...}
Saturday, January 1, 2011
Best. New Year. EVER!
I can't say that I'm sad to bid 2010 adieu. It's been a rough year. But it's certainly had its blessings too.
Here's what I'm thankful for from 2010:
*My HEALTHY, handsome son.
*My husband coming home and spending the rest of the year with us.
*My house and all the provisions we have.
*My journey through post-partum depression.
*The light that God has brought me. It's so good to "be back." :)
So, good-bye 2010! You've been hard, but I'm thankful for the many blessings and lessons learned. I wouldn't be where I am today without them. And I am MOST thankful to be where I am today. 100% HAPPY. Filled with God's joy and peace.
Hello, 2011! You are off to an AMAZING start! My husband and I rang in the New Year with my brother and his girlfriend. We got two days to be just the two of us thanks to Grammy, Mimi, and PaPa taking care of our son. Thank you all SO much! Our time together was GREAT.
This first day of the New Year starts off my resolutions which I have labeled "New Year, New Me, NO EXCUSES"; my husband has shortened it to "NYNMNE," pronounced "nuh-nih-mah-nee"...like "anemone" without the first "uh" lol. So far, so good. I'm not going to be legalistic about my resolutions; I just want to stay within the spirit of them. And that is certainly how today has been. It has not gone according to plan exactly, but no complaints here whatsoever. Our house is CLEAN, our son is home, and it is a BEAUTIFUL day.
Here's what I'm thankful for from 2010:
*My HEALTHY, handsome son.
*My husband coming home and spending the rest of the year with us.
*My house and all the provisions we have.
*My journey through post-partum depression.
*The light that God has brought me. It's so good to "be back." :)
So, good-bye 2010! You've been hard, but I'm thankful for the many blessings and lessons learned. I wouldn't be where I am today without them. And I am MOST thankful to be where I am today. 100% HAPPY. Filled with God's joy and peace.
Hello, 2011! You are off to an AMAZING start! My husband and I rang in the New Year with my brother and his girlfriend. We got two days to be just the two of us thanks to Grammy, Mimi, and PaPa taking care of our son. Thank you all SO much! Our time together was GREAT.
This first day of the New Year starts off my resolutions which I have labeled "New Year, New Me, NO EXCUSES"; my husband has shortened it to "NYNMNE," pronounced "nuh-nih-mah-nee"...like "anemone" without the first "uh" lol. So far, so good. I'm not going to be legalistic about my resolutions; I just want to stay within the spirit of them. And that is certainly how today has been. It has not gone according to plan exactly, but no complaints here whatsoever. Our house is CLEAN, our son is home, and it is a BEAUTIFUL day.
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