No. 17

oh well.

2012-02-03T10:30:00.000-08:00

(Me doing my best at saying, "oh well")

***

Kensington woke up with a bloody eye, this morning.

We were told that can happen, time to time, with the stint.

It still bothered (bothers) me and when the little girl from across the street came over and said, "Is K's eye bleeding?" I almost started crying (still not sure why).

Her eye isn't getting better. It looks the same. It's not improving and if anything, it's a bit worse, at times.

Even the doctor is a bit upset with how it hasn't seemed to improve.

But here is the thing.

Life is all about "stuff" and if it's not happening to you, it's happening to your friend, family member, neighbor or uncle. Lame things happen to all of us, it's not going to stop and it's not fair.

But life isn't fair and we need to suck it up, get over it and truly just say "oh well".

I hate that it might sound like I'm making light of my daughters situation, but if I let it eat at me, I become someone who has been consumed with a rather minor set of circumstances.

Do I not have a home?

Do I not have food?

Do I not have amazing people in my life?

Am I not promised eternal salvation?

Well, then....."oh well" is the best I can do and I will choose to not dwell on a problem that I can't solve.

Her stint doesn't work, she'll probably have another surgery and that one might not work either. She might have to have another surgery after that and she might not.

That might happen.

And you know what else might happen, in the meantime?

A LOT of horrible, unfavorable and sad things.

And maybe a lot of meaningful, great and amazing things.

Because life has good and life has upsetting. But like I said....it's happening to everyone and my problem is just going to have to get an "oh well".

Because there is nothing I can do at all. And that's good. I can't solve it. But I can....

Pray and hope. Hand it over.

And pray for those that are walking through much greater things than I am.

And shrug my shoulders.

"Oh well!"

“The people who turn out best are those people who make the best out of the way things turn out.”
― John Wooden

my "open door" policy with God.

2012-02-02T14:00:00.000-08:00

God doesn't need my permission to close doors although there was a moment when I told Him, "I'm fine with you closing that door as long as you open another."

Of course He opened another but He didn't require me telling Him to do so, now did He?

Isn't that how I work, though? I assume that the closing of a door is a negative thing, rather than looking forward and seeing the hope and endurance for the next project. And what if there isn't a next project? Maybe it's just life and that is the open door and I look too hard to have an obvious and clear cut definition of what I'm to be doing. The Lord knows me and it never surprises Him.

The Lord closes doors on places and opens doors to new beginnings.

He closes doors on expectations and frees us up to move past silly ideas of how things should be.

God, in His wisdom, closes the door on things that seem so perfectly tailored and still has something better in store.

To come.

While He never needed my approval, God has taken every closed door, in the last year and slammed it shut.

But immediately after, he swung open possibility after possibility, covered in mercy and learning.

He never fails me and I fail Him all the time but I will not look back.

No, I will look forward, peer out the plentiful doors, in my life

the doors of

friendship

love

ministry

giving

learning

branching

doing

being

and thank Him who takes away and Him who opens.

A good friend sent me this verse, yesterday, and it is now engraved on the threshold of my mind.

"Forget the former things; do not dwell on the past. See, I am doing a new thing!"

Isaiah 43:18

New things are to come.

I can't wait to share.

And new things are to come for you. Don't resist the abruptly slammed, like I do.

Look forward.

help me. seriously.

2012-02-01T06:00:00.000-08:00

That is (no joke) the face I have, when I stare at the "homeschooling" and "parenting" Pinterest boards.

It's scary how creative some adults are.

I fancied myself cleaver, until I started making lesson plans and realized I'm not as visionary as I had once thought. I need help.

I've decided to homeschool and I'm ready for the challenge. Lost, but ready.

Danielle and I were chatting the other day and I said, "Girl, I'm feeling a little lost with this whole homeschooling thing." And she said, "Just put a bird on it!" No. Not really. But she did say that when it comes time for her, she's going to throw a blog post up there and see what her readers have to share.

And man, I love stealing a good idea.

So.

I need help from ALL of you. Not just "homeschoolers". I want input from kids who went to school their entire lives. Input from homeschooled adults. Parents who send their kids off to the public and private classroom each day, but read them to sleep at night.

I simply want to know.....

How do you teach your child?

Can you answer any of these questions for me? Pretty please?

Do you teach them in the morning?

If you teach through artistry, where do you find inspiration for your learning crafts?

What are some great websites/books for art and outdoor learning?

If you homeschool, what is the one piece of advice you would give a beginner?

What is the best book you read to your daughters/sons?

How do you create lesson plans?

What is the best book you use, to encourage your homeschooling desires?

Where does one start?

Are you involved in local homeschooling groups? If so-which ones and do you recommend them?

Do you have sewing patterns for long, denim skirts?

If you were a homeschooled child, what is the one thing you wish had been done differently?

Thank you, so much, for helping me out.

It's hard for me, at times, to reach out for assistance, but when I do....I am always better for it.

(It's a good thing I have friends who force me to face my inadequacies. Ahem.)

***

Oh and I love a fort. Who doesn't love forts?

I know my girls will, when they walk downstairs tomorrow and they see the one I made tonight.

Who knows. Maybe I'll go into fort-making and just send Kensington to school, after all the fuss.

Just kidding.

(Kinda.)

***

Also, five years ago, today, I found out I was pregnant with our first child.

It's been a weird week and I know that it will be difficult once it comes a bit closer to the date we lost that child, but I'm calm.

It's a good calm and one that I know is only from the Lord.

Peaceful, really.

And it never hurts that so many of you email me with your stories of hope, redemption and the Lord's goodness.

Praise Him for that. Praise Him for you.

***

Happy Wednesday.

Now, grab some coffee and get click-clacking and help this sister out.

a collection of life's everyday things.

2012-01-31T07:00:00.000-08:00

good morning, friends.

It's been all writing and sometimes I just need to post pictures.

Especially those fun, faded pictures that we are all going to look back on, one day, and question, "why did we use that weird filter, again?"

But still, a collection of the things that I would like to remember and for now, the muted colors are still something I enjoy.

***

I would love to stare at these, each day.

My answer to little time and less-than-clean hair is a bun, almost always.

Yes, I do have a 8 inch television that only plays VHS, in the office. Please don't throw away your old tapes. Send them to my loving home.

(note: Anne of Avonlea is playing)

Morning reading.

Garage sale with BC.

My daughters leaky eye, this morning.

No, it hasn't gone away.

Just like my anxiety over pending surgeries hasn't gone away.

***

That's my collection for the week.

Also, my favorite post of the week can be found HERE. Thanks, Mark.

(There may be a naughty word in it. But I didn't care that much. It was just too good.)

how deep the cut.

2012-01-30T12:30:00.000-08:00

If I stand stone-still and let the pain of five years ago come to the surface.

If I let it.

It rises and it floats.

Just long enough to steal my peace and stop my breath.

A thief that each year I claim, own and become captive to, again.

And it feels like someone is slicing me open anew and taking away my only idea of grace.

Watery, salty, warm and furious, the tears come over and over and roll quickly, so quickly I can't stop them or even want to.

Maybe the only time I am truly me is when the cut is so deep I can't pretend I understand.

That is when I am me.

And so what I thought would be heaven on earth was actually an opportunity to really know myself.

***

(This post wasn't written with the intent of being illusive. Rather, it was penned as I began to notice the onset of emotions I have during the months of February and March, each year. If you don't understand these feelings, I understand that. I thought I would share for those that can identify. You can read more about it here and here.)

sun up//sun down

2012-01-29T14:30:00.000-08:00

Aren't the seasons of our life a bit like the lingering days of a week?

The sun sets on a remembrance and we begin to breath faster at the thought of a finished moment. It hurts somewhat to accept the idea that something is coming to a close. Saying goodbye hurts much more than letting go of the moment itself.

And then it's dark.

And then it's quiet.

But day breaks and it's so very beautiful that you can hardly say the words to suit the colorful burst of possibility.

The streaks of love and the color of new.

And you are standing in a day of expiring moments.

Moments that are precious and full and many, before the sun sets again.

New is so good.

It's so very good.

It may be daily, but goodbye is the most beautiful preface to a welcome, new day.

story-telling gold.

2012-01-26T10:00:00.000-08:00

I wish you a wonderful weekend, filled with obscurity (in the best possible way).

If you have a spare moment (or two), I've collected four short stories, from our resident story-teller, Kensington.

Special appearances by Anastasia and Drizella, a woman named California and a very naughty little girl that is squished by oncoming traffic.

The best part of watching these is realizing that instead of taking care of my daughter forever, she will beat me to the punch and end up housing her father and I in the outdoor quarters of her 10,000 square foot mansion.

All because of her wildly successful, paranormal youth novel.

Happy Weekending and enjoy.

WoodSnap

2012-01-25T20:00:00.000-08:00

I like telling you about meaningful things that will make your life, living space and heart, happy.

It makes me happy to share.

Simple, wonderful things.

Let me tell you about WoodSnap.

When Mike (a friend from High School) contacted me about his company (he owns it with his friend, Ricky), I loved the concept. Beautiful images printed directly on wood canvas'. Something totally different.

WoodSnap creates beautifully printed pictures and art, on wood. In house. Simple. Sustainable. Eco-Friendly.

WoodSnap cares most about customer service (heck, I had my pictures delivered straight to my door) and I'm so excited to show you what they make.

Let's take a peek at what Mike and Ricky created, shall we?

This beautiful image was taken when we were in the hospital with Frankie. I'm sure it would be one of the last pictures that most people would choose, but I love it. I love that you can see Sean staring at Kensington. I love that my hair is in a headband after no sleep (or shower) for the past two days. I love that Francine has her little IV cast on.

I don't want to forget those days we were in the hospital. I learned quite a bit.

This print hangs in our master bedroom and it's the first things I see, when I walk through the door.

(please note how the print "floats" off the wall. AND (the feature I love the most about these prints) there are pre-cut lines on the back of each print for easy hanging. Score!

Isn't it perfect? I love it.

Walking down the hallway.....

This is my new office space. We recently moved the girls into one room and it left us with a room, upstairs, for the taking. I asked Sean if he wouldn't mind me splitting the office/homeschool room into two separate rooms and he loved the idea. He encouraged me to have one space where I write/sell vintage/blog and another to focus on teaching the kids in (I love him).

This was Kensington's old room and it's a great size.

For right now, there isn't much furniture and the walls are bare (and will stay that way, for the most part, until we save to buy paint) but I needed something to make it more like home.

Look at this print.

Again, it's the first thing I see when I walk through the doors and a constant reminder of why I do, what I do. I live, breath, blog, write, dream....with these other people in mind. They are my everything.

How appropriate to have them hanging, right above, where I get my work "on".

This particular print (and the other) are both 20 by 24 and I love the size. It takes up just enough property on the wall and the sepia color tone is my kind of thang. Very vintage-esque.

Truly, I'm so excited to have these pieces and know that you would love them too (well, I'm assuming you would print ones with your family on them, but hey...if you want one of the four of us, it can be arranged).

Because Mike and Ricky are so generous, they are offering 20% off to No.17 readers, on all of their products.

You won't be disappointed and their customer service, start to finish, is top-notch.

Go read about the company and grab a print.

Visit HERE to shop with WoodSnap and use the code 20off.

Simple.

Perfect.

Memories.

Love.

faded.

2012-01-25T06:30:00.000-08:00

Faded into lost, little pieces. Blurred to colorless.

Beige.

Where did you go, friend? Where did I lose you?

Exhausted, torn and slowly melting into unseens and unknowns.

Standing and watching the ripping and tearing with no fight but only silence.

Come back.

Don't lose to time and it's unrelenting hands but grasp.

Grasp out and hold tight and come back.

Where did I lose you?

For you are still you, no matter what you may have become.

Light and youth are still there and a heart beating.

Pick up the shards and piece them together and come back, come back.

You are still there.

teeth-torn grapes

2012-01-23T06:00:00.000-08:00

I'm sure she's never seen me tear grapes in two, with my teeth, but that's just what I do.

Why dirty a knife when teeth are just as sharp and the product is almost instantaneous?

But she is always busy and day dreaming and speaking of far-off lands and castles made from Oreos and sand.

She's never so much as given a sideways glance when I'm setting a handful of torn fruit on her sisters tray. She's tossing her head to and fro and singing a fairy-tale song that I'm sure was created just two minutes earlier. She never notices. She doesn't see it and never thinks twice about the grapes that I squish between my teeth. The fruit I give to her closest playmate. Which is probably good assuming she (and others?) would be squeamish at the thought. But she is making a tee-pee from a napkin and using a fork as a mythical flying horse and is too occupied to notice.

With little conversation, on the most gloomy of Sunday afternoons, we sit for a snack. Quietly she eats her plate of assorted fruit, staring into the street and watches car after car pass us by. Without looking away from the window she asks, "where do cars come from, mommy?". I too stared out the window and began my explanation. Just as I came to the conclusion of my explanation of the Industrial Revolution and the assembly line concept, I looked down.

Seven small, torn grapes sit in front of me. A small offering.

She is still staring out the window.

Turns out she has been watching all the while.

spared.

2012-01-20T13:00:00.000-08:00

I was already irritated and didn't have a good reason to be.

You see, I wanted to go out to lunch with someone but had to decline because my checkbook was thin. Slim from buying groceries and necessities and a present or two. Clearly I should be happy I can purchase these things at all, but I chose an attitude of resentment. How sad.

But, that isn't the reason I'm telling a story.

No, It just fits perfectly that I would be irritated and annoyed when my daughter spilled her macaroni and cheese all over the floor, knocking over her milk, as well. This was after I had told her two times not to play with the towel it was sitting under. I told her that if she played with it again and the food fell, there would be a consequence and she knew what that meant. Very cut and dry. Not really much wiggle room (which usually works for me but occasionally sends me spiraling into regret).

She played with her towel again, the macaroni went splat all over the floor and she looked at me, terrified (another reason to be filled with regret, but that's for another day).

I calmly told her,

"Kensington, go to your room now. I'll be there in a minute."

She ran up the stairs crying and not the type of crying where you know they are just sad that they screwed up but the type that echos true feelings of sadness. The cry that moms simultaneously want to hear and don't want to hear. Because you know your child just understood and it breaks your heart, slightly.

The minute my foot hit the wood floor and Kensington heard me walking towards her, her cry turned a bit desperate and she started crying,

"No! No! PLEASE DON'T SPANK ME MOMMY. Please don't do this! I don't want you to do this mommy. I'M SO SORRY!"

I looked at her and in a moment of (what some would say) weakness, I sat down on her bed and picked her up.

She thought she knew what was coming and she pleaded one more time,

"No, pleasepleaseplease mommy. I'm sorry mommy, I love you!"

Instead of spanking her, (which I have always struggled with as an appropriate consequence for children) I held her.

I drew her in so tightly and she just cried. And so did I.

In that moment I saw the Lord, holding me on his lap. How I need Him to hold me so close, sometimes.

Do you know how many times I plead with the Lord to spare me from consequence?

Do you know how many times A DAY I screw up and deserve so many things that are ugly and dark and regretful?

And yet, the Lord took my shame on Him and showed me grace. He shows me grace all the time. In the most beautiful moment of mercy, He died on the cross, holding all of my sin and let His perfect blood drip down. It flowed and was laced with the words

"Rachel. I died for Rachel, so she would always live."

Kensington should have had a consequence.

But I should also have a consequence and yet I am continually met with mercy. Beautiful, pure mercy that covers all of the anger, hatred, jealously, lust and foolishness.

We all should get what we deserve. But that's the beauty of Christ.

Today, I saw (and felt) that grace and mercy are much more powerful than punishment.

The No-Brainer Wardrobe (Hayley from The Tiny Twig).

2012-01-20T05:30:00.000-08:00

Have you met her? Hayley from The Tiny Twig? No?

What a shame.

Because you would really like her. I know I do.

You know what else you'll like?

You'll really like her new e-book, The No-Brainer Wardrobe and let me tell you why.

Hayley's ebook is all about simplicty. Initially when her and I were talking, she mentioned that she thought that her book and my blog would be a perfect match because of the new direction I'm really moving in. I'm trying, in all areas of my life, to be more simple. Think simple. Do simple and not get bogged down with a million different choices. Within the pages of her book, she helps YOU identify your personal style, what you like and what you are drawn to. She outlines tips for how you can spend less and still feel your best doing it.

Have you noticed that everyone is always talking about clothes and yet people don't seem happy with the way they look and what they are wearing? It seems that these days people focus too much on what they are putting on and less about how they feel about themselves and who God has made them.

Hayley guides you a bit to learn about your body and being confident in who YOU are and not who everyone else is. She gives excellent ideas to streamline and simplify the items in your closet to create fun and comfortable combinations that will keep you feeling like you, but also snazzy, without all the fuss (and without spending tons of dollars which it seems like all the fashion bloggers are doing, these days).

What a great lesson to learn, right?

Take a moment and learn about Hayley on her blog. She's simply delightful and I'm sure you'll like her as much as I do.

AND.

Just because she is great, she is offering 50% off of her e-book, The No-Brainer Wardrobe, for the first five people to purchase it! It's normally $7.99 (Already a great deal) and five of you will get it for $4.00.

That's pretty fantastic, if you ask me.

GO HERE to buy the book!

Use code "NO17" to see if you are one of the first 5!

And enjoy!

Untitled from hayley morgan on Vimeo.

thirty-one chances.

2012-01-18T10:30:00.000-08:00

January is quiet and good.

Rest comes if you move over and it squeaks in.

Frightening at first but lovely at last.

Quiet and good and peaceful.

In the dark of evening.

In the almost-born flower bud.

In the emerging green and static streets.

In the shiny dew and the silent fog that lingers longer.

In the glance out the sunshine-filled window.

And then, when all is calm it comes to you.

Life washes over you and you stop.

Stop and live.

Pause.

But living.

Life is happening and peace and quiet is near.

Spring and Summer will soon have their day but January is quiet and good and thirty-one chances for peace.

I can't stand the Fresh Beat Band....

2012-01-17T19:00:00.000-08:00

....or the idea of doing anything like a "rockstar"....

but my kids dance to this like nothing else.

Plus, if you let them dance to it 15 times, they take AWESOME naps.

burrowed.

2012-01-17T06:00:00.000-08:00

Life is a long, colorful tunnel.

I see a vague image of what the end will be like but getting there can be so fuzzy and overwhelming. Glorious and beautiful. Convoluted and raw. Refining.

Lord, clear it all up for me.

Or just continue to teach me peace in the process.

sweet//sad leftovers.

2012-01-16T07:00:00.001-08:00

You see, I've seen it all. That is, I've seen almost anything a person could have accumulated, in their (often short) lifespan. I visit between four and six estates, a week. I've been in more homes than most realtors.

People hang on to (and get rid of) the most bizarre, horrifying and amazing items.

Anything can wear a price-tag.

And each week, I'm surprised at how emotional estate sales make me. It's a mix of elation when finding a rare piece that holds quite a story and utter disappointment when looking through a carelessly discarded family photo album.

But through all of my many trips down the hallways (literally) of someone's private life, one item has the ability to move me more than any other.

You'll think it's funny.

Crocheted hanger covers.

Have you seen them? I'm sure that you have and you didn't even know what you were looking at. You were five and in a sweet cotton, pin-tucked romper, hiding in your grandmothers closet. Certainly that's one of the only places you'll unearth those treasures, anymore.

Whenever I see these brightly colored, handmade jewels, I snag them. Usually I don't need to snag them, seeing as their virtually unwanted and usually discarded. I still grab them with fervor.

I imagine their creator, sitting in her floral, moss-green recliner, needle in hand. She picks out her colors of yarn carefully and casts on. She listens to her husband snore in his Lazy-Boy and she day-dreams about boarding a jet plane to Venice.

Each time I see a hanger cover, I wonder why people don't take time to make them anymore. More than likely because people think they are pointless.

Which makes me somewhat sad.

Just like estate sales.

days to come // the weekend.

2012-01-13T10:00:00.000-08:00

The days to come include the weekend and for that, I am grateful.

What will you be doing? I will be spending much of my time here, which I'm also grateful for because it's one of my very most favorite places, on the planet. I'm not sure I was convinced I would ever love this house as much as our last. When we moved in I was heart sick for the memories that our old home held, but this slab and concrete foundation has wiggled its way into my heart.

This weekend I will be inside, watching a movie or two and maybe making some muddy buddy mix because baking doesn't have to stop in December, right?

And this weekend I will see people I love.

And this weekend I will read and maybe garden.

And most certainly I will create.

And this weekend will be good.

The kind of good that makes life work for you.

(a rather fragmented post, but I like it still).

Jesus > Religion

2012-01-12T08:00:00.000-08:00

Yes 100 times.

Take away my religiosity, Lord.

Replace it was grace.

Replace it with love, acceptance and humility.

Replace it with You.

(also a REALLY good rebuttal post HERE)

death.

2012-01-11T08:00:00.000-08:00

Turn your eyes upon Jesus.

Look full in His wonderful face.

And the things of earth, will grow strangely dim.

In the light of His glory and grace.

***

The term "live like it's your last day" often surround situations where people want to go sky-diving or travel to a distant land. It's always in good fun and meant to spur people on to squeeze every last drop out of life.

But let's take that in another direction and go to the place where we really try to avoid. We really go to great lengths to dodge questions about faith and belief. We hold tight (sometimes) to what we consider true and allow others to do the same and when it comes time to talk about it, we clam up and move on because "to each his own".

But let's get really real. Let's talk about death and the fact that each of us is headed in that direction.

***

On December 11th, a family friend died.

She was 33 years old.

She had a husband and a sweet seven-month old son, Milo.

***

When I sat at her funeral, It was like the entire world was completely frozen and I was left with myself and my filing system of memories.

These were the pews I grew up sitting in, from childhood on.

I stared at the podium where I (and she) sang in Christmas pageants and attended middle school chapel.

I looked up at the stage where Sean and I stood and exchanged vows.

The people who were at my wedding were sitting there, in black.

I sat between my husband and my sister-in-law. Tears rolling down our faces as we all were staring at mortaility. Eyes locked on the family that sat in the front row.

The tiny baby that has no mother to hold him, stared at the crowd.

We all sat frozen.

I still sit frozen.

***

Life is short and life is over and you have no control. I have no control.

Amy had no control.

What Amy had control of was how she lived her life. When we heard stories from friends and family, it was evident that she lived wholly for Christ. Not in that way that is so disingenuous that it can completely scare people away but in the authentic way.

She lived like she was dying.

In the best possible way.

***

And what if we each did that?

Replaced all of the meaningless concerns of doubt, regret and comparison with thoughts on eternal life?

What if we replaced our temporal hobbies and fascinations with time spent on eternal perspective?

What a mind shift.

To live like we are dying.

But we must.

Because we are.

And in the end, only one thing matters.

Only One.

a little take-away from the dentist

2012-01-10T06:00:00.000-08:00

This afternoon, when taking Kensington to her first dentist appointment, we sat next to a 86 year-old woman, in the waiting room.

Her name was Isabella.

Kensington and I occupied the two seats on her right side and on the other, a mom and her middle-school aged daughter. Both had their heads pointed downwards, focusing on some electronic device. The mother, a Kindle and the daughter, an iPad.

Kensington carried on a twenty-minute conversation with the elderly lady, learning her name, favorite color and where she was born. They exchanged birthdays and talked about flowers (because Isabella had rose earrings on). Right before her name was called to go back for her teeth cleaning, Isabella dropped her pen on the floor, in front of the mother that was sitting to her left.

Without skipping a beat, the mother looked at the pen, and then to Isabella. By the time the other mother deemed it appropriate to part from her reading material, Kensington had already retrieved the pen and Isabella had it in her hand.

Isbella's name was called and she left and we were left sitting in the seats, Kensingtons feet dangling.

It made me wonder.

How often to I keep my head buried in something that doesn't really matter, only to miss what is going on, right in front of my face?

My hope is less and less.

oh, the weekend.

2012-01-09T06:00:00.000-08:00

Thank you so much for all of your encouragement and advice, regarding the previous post. We seem to be coming to a conclusion with Kensington and it has resulted in two nights of sleep, for all of us! It looks like she does, indeed, have allergies and not nighttime asthma, as the doctor had thought. I suspected this, but wasn't quite sure and glad that we did some investigation and pushing, when it came to seeing a new doctor, this weekend.

THANK YOU for all your input. I love learning from people that know more than I do and have had experiences that I haven't.

(Last night she did have an episode but it ended shortly and we all went back to sleep!)

***

I love the weekend. I just love it so much.

Sean's home and everything seems lighter and more cohesive. The weekdays are certainly nice as well and I very much enjoy Mondays as they kick start an entirely new set of adventures...but oh the weekend.

The lovely, lovely weekend.

The picture above is what our Saturday mornings always look like. It's the one day a week when Kensington and Frankie are allowed to watch a show at the table, during their pancake breakfast. I found a wonderful, online Christian station, called JELLY TELLY. I've had a really hard time lately with most programming that's on television (for adults and children). I don't feel like there's much quality out there and so it remains off, most of the time.

But on the weekend, it's time for a treat.

***

Lots and lots of playing, happens on the weekend. Actually, this happens most days, all day.

***

We had a movie night, on Sunday evening. We started it at 6:15pm and Kensington got popcorn and M&M's. We started telling her about it around 11am and so by the evening, I think she was so worn out from all the excitement surrounding it, she was passed out within 45 minutes.

***

I don't have a picture of Friday night (for shame!), but I had a much-needed evening with my friends and was able to come home with a rested mind and heart, after talking with the ladies. Sharing and caring is always free medicine.

I also have no photo documentation of Saturday evening, but my parents offered to watch the girls so we could get out of the house, as a couple. It was perfectly timed as we were both feeling the need to recharge. We sat at dinner and enjoyed delicious food (at a new restaurant that we instantly fell in love with and plan to re-visit) and talked politics (can you guess who is getting our vote?), homeschooling, church and our upcoming anniversary. It was a great opportunity to be with Sean and just talk.

***

Also not pictured (because who would want a picture of what I'm about to mention...?) is that I had a really hard weekend "parenting". I realized that Kensington and I are very much alike and especially so when it comes to our reactions to discipline. My responses towards her misbehavior directly effect the rest of the day and how she chooses to obey the "next time". I have really been working on being kind and gracious when correcting her. I don't let her get away with things but I'm trying to explain things to her more often (which she now understands) and be less snippy, with my correction. She, like me, wants to understand the logic behind behavior and not just be told she is "wrong". It's working and I'm so happy about it. I can actually see her softening when I talk her through her the situation and explain why she has a consequence, rather than just reacting.

That being said...I have a long way to go. I pray about it often because it's not my first inclination. My first tendency is to say, "Um. No. You sinned. Go to your room and think about it and don't speak. Bye."

The Lord is showing me the error of my ways and how best to reach the precious and innocent heart of my daughter. It's certainly refining and my true desire it to be an example of grace, love and gentleness towards all my children.

I'm actually really glad that the Lord is teaching me to work harder in this area. I need it.

***

We visited the local Farmers Market, with my mother-in-law, on Sunday.

I'm so hooked on that place. The produce is so wonderful and the price is right. When I stepped out of the car and the wind was blowing through my hair (and the palm trees above me) and the sun shining on my face, I thought, "There are some wonderfully beautiful parts of living in Southern California".

I have such a great time there and my mother-in-law knows many of the vendors, too. It's great to go with her because she's knowledgable about things I'm not and she can help me select some of the better produce when I'm not educated about it.

I'm really finding a sweet spot for all of this healthy eating and cooking. I feel a bit more present in real life. A bit more alive.

Sure, I sometimes miss RITZ crackers, but a juicy Fuji apple will do just fine.

***

We did a lot of gardening this weekend, too.

After buying two homes with no landscaping to speak of, Sean and I have learned quite a bit about tending to a garden and building things from the ground up.

One of the biggest lessons we have learned about gardening is that you can't give up on it, in Winter. A lovely garden in Spring is a product of caring for it, in the Winter months.

It doesn't hurt that it feels a bit like Summer, lately.

But the rain and cold will come and you will still find us outside pruning, weeding and feeding our plants.

It's all worth it when you walk outside, in March, and everything is in bloom.

***

I hope that your weekend was lovely.

I also hope your week is off to a perfect start and you remember all of the many blessings that the Lord has given.

I hope I continue to do the same and don't get sidetracked with any list or activity.

(And here are some uplifting posts to encourage your heart. At least they did mine. Grab a cup of coffee and visit HERE and HERE.)

Off to wash windows,

sickies//breakfast club//happy weekend

2012-01-06T10:00:00.000-08:00

Well, last night was rough, Kensington coughing most of the night and Sean and I deliberating (at 3am) on what to do for her. We have tried several different homeopathic remedies and I stray away from putting her on a long term medication until we really know what is wrong. One nurse seemed to think that the problem may go away once her stint is removed and another thinks she has bad allergies. She doesn't cough during the day though, so I have no idea.

What I do know is that I was up at 12:16am, staring at the clock and started the ugly cry. Which led Sean to ask, "What's wrong?" and I snapped back, "What do you THINK is wrong?" and then he said, "I knew that was the wrong way to ask that" and then we started laughing (partially out of delirium). Then he scratched my back because I started to feel nauseous and swore that I was coming down with the stomach flu (I'm a bit of a drama queen at midnight).

But, it's a new day!

Frankie's antibiotics are kicking in and she was like her old self at breakfast, which was so lovely.

It's a new day and God is good!

You are good and I thank you for writing and asking how the girls are doing, sending thoughts and solutions and calling me.

What lovely friends you all are.

(K on her breathing treatment and Frankie pre-antibiotics)

Speaking of friends, I love friends. I love good people. Don't you?

They lift your spirits, allow you to be real and induce those laugh-fits that cause you to have a belly ache. We should all be so grateful for the people that the Lord puts in our life.

We named our little friend-group.

We're the Breakfast Club.

Not because we are angst-filled teens but simply because we love breakfast for dinner.

The movie (while I'm so glad my parents didn't let me watch it in my youth) is pretty catchy and is a favorite of some of our members.

(Breakfast Club on NYE 2011, sans one of our couples)

So, the name fits like a glove.

Much like a good relationship.

Thank the Lord today for the people who are there for you, deliver food to you, cry with you and make you a little (or a lot) better.

And then thank them.

And pass along the goodness to others.

Happy Weekend, everyone.

We are headed out to the garage to SIMPLIFY and get ready for a joint garage sale, in a few weeks.

And then.

AND THEN.

I'm headed out with the ladies, tonight.

Is it me or are few things better than sitting at a restaurant, sipping coffee and chatting?

(with a side of cheescake).

life.

2012-01-05T14:00:00.000-08:00

With simplicity as a goal this year, I'm learning that sharing doesn't have to be contrived and if I don't have a wonderfully written devotional, that is fine because that is authentic and real.

Simplicity is taking what I have and sharing it and not trying to produce something that isn't there, simply because I feel I must.

A blog post about what my family is experiencing is just fine and it will do. That is what this blog began as and in the end, when I pass along my blog book to my kids, that is what they will care more about. Truthfully, it's what my heart cares most about, as well.

Memories (both good and difficult) remembered.

In that spirit, I'll share a little about what is going on in our household.

***

Christmas was wonderful (maybe I'll write a little about that soon) and New Years was pretty great too. Truly, I'm having a really hard time with the holidays being over and I realize how silly some people must think that is. Sean was home for 10 days and it was so darn lovely that when he finally went back to work on Tuesday, I hit a little bit of a lull. We tore down the tree right after Christmas was over and I always love getting the house back in order but I was left missing the spirit of Christmas and have daily reminded myself that I keep it in my heart, each day. That's up to me.

Even with that said, there's a certain smell in the air, at Christmas, that is evaporating. The lights are slowly being taken down, in our neighborhood and people are starting to post about Valentines Day. Time moves on and even when I try to slow it down, I can't.

It's hard for me.

I wonder why that is so, after-all, Christmas comes around every year and Spring is on it's way! Not to mention, each day is to be enjoyed, right?

Still, it is.

***

Kensington went to the doctor on Tuesday and was diagnosed with night-induced asthma. They think it's intensified by the stint that was placed, but can't be sure. Frankie has been sick from the 19th of December with a 4 day break (I journal, therefore I know) and I finally decided to take her in to the pediatrician today. It looks like my effort to be a relaxed mom and not rush her on to antibiotics backfired, as we left with a diagnosis of double ear infections and bronchitis. When I stopped being irritated that I spent half of my grocery budget for the week on co-pays, I realized that my brain might be a little overwhelmed with all of the health issues that have been experienced in the last year. I'm getting to the point where I call Sean and we just laugh, but truly, I'm ready for it to be done.

I believe my words this morning, to my friend Mary where, "shoot me now".

I cry uncle.

***

Even in their sickest moments, my kids are pretty happy. Kensington has been really interested in building machines, robots and "stores" lately. I love watching her create, really, because I realize that she is much more creative then I am. Watching her also makes me feel unqualified and nervous to homeschool her and Francine (and any other children we are blessed with). The idea of homeschooling gets dicey when you realize that not only will you never have moments to yourself (please don't judge me for being scared by this) but that you have a monumental task of educating your child. I'm totally up for the challenge and know that it is the only option for our children right now, but it scares the living daylights out of me.

Plus, I've read about 97 books about it and still am slightly frozen on where to begin.

***

I'm finally committing to a picture wall-downstairs-and I'm enjoying it. There are only six pictures right now, but someday I hope the entire wall is covered. Filled with so many memories of our family, together. Laugh all you want, but I have a idea cloud that floats above my head, that contains all of us sitting downstairs and watching a movie. My old kids and some new ones and Sean and I are a little pudgy and sharing a popcorn bowl.

I look around and see my kids. I see the pictures on the wall of when my eldest were just one and four and then survey the new members of our team. I am filled with joy.

My idea cloud also includes absolutely no sickness, FYI.

***

I am enjoying cooking more and it's becoming such a fun learning experience. I do glance at Williams Sonoma (amongst other websites) now and again and am so in love with cooking products. Many of the things I admire are unnecessary, but I would love to someday buy this, this and this.

What's your favorite cooking tool?

***

That's about it for now. The kids are napping and I rearranged my kitchen furniture (I'm quite convinced that rearranging furniture will always be my vice) and need to mop the floor where the bookcase once stood.

But I will reward myself with a carmel Starbucks VIA (Sean put them in my stocking and I hugged him, when I opened them, I was so excited)!

Happy Thursday, everyone.

wait....I think I just heard Frankie....

you've come a long way, baby.

2012-01-04T09:00:00.000-08:00

While I was cleaning up my computer the other day, I came across a album of "before" pictures, from when we moved into this home, in September of 2010. I hadn't looked at the pictures in about six months, so I was pleasently surprised with all of the progress Sean and I have made, in a little less than a year and a half. I guess that's what happens when you don't continually look back at what you've done. You forget your progress.

Sean and I bought this house and were aware that it was a undertaking. Several people advised against it and a few (I could just tell) were thinking, "What did they do?" when they got the initial walk-through. It had bees in the walls, was owned by a chain smoker(s) for 50+ years and the carpet had obscene stains. The walls were coated in nicotine. Nothing had been cleaned in years.

The price was right and so we jumped. We didn't look back.

We have done all of the work ourselves. We only paid someone to install the carpet/flooring and that was in the interest of time. The rest of the house has been a continual work in progress. Many weekends have been spent on landscaping, painting and cleaning, piece by piece. Tons of time spent and so much help from wonderful and giving friends and family. It's been a labor of love.

(dining room before and after)

(kitchen before and after)

It got me thinking.

In the past year (especially because of Blog Sugar), I had the wonderful oppurtunity to talk to dozens of small business owners and bloggers. I have been able to listen to their hopes and dreams of growing their business, their influence and their brand. It's been inspiring.

One disapriging thing I have noticed however, is this.
When talking to these woman (and a few gentlemen) I'm always surprised by how everyone is always projecting and sharing about where they want to be, in the future. They are always grasping for what they think they want and not settling until they get it. They share about how they will be so relieved/happy/fulfilled when they get the next gig, sell a certain amount of inventory or reach a particular statistical milestone, on their analytic page.

Each time someone shares this, it makes me a little sad.

(master bedroom)

Why are we always looking to the future, to fulfill us? What about us can't look backward and be content with the amazing progress we have made? Think about the journey you are on and how it has gotten you to where you are standing right now. There have been twists and turns and unconventional mishaps. But it got you here. You are standing upright, in the place God has you, because of your past choices and progress.

I'm all for dreams and goals (hello, I thrive off of them), but I think it is equally important to look over your shoulder and realize all of your progress, hard work and moments of learning.

(master bathroom before and after)

The moments made you who you are and are determined experiences that the Lord let you walk through FOR this moment.

Don't miss the forest for the trees. Most of who you are is what you have done and what it has made you. Good, bad and difficult. Allow the reminder of where you have come from, empower where you are going. Don't let your stringent focus on what you think you want, allow you to forget all you've done.

Look back and remember. And enjoy where you stand.

simple pleasures (and a prayer request).

2012-01-03T13:00:00.000-08:00

. I so love our neighborhood and walking in it is just lovely .

. A perfect gift given from our wonderful babysitter, Lauren . A smile to prove it .

. Glass bottles and lunch for three, all for $1.69 .

. Stopping to smell .

On a side note.....

I know that I have shared some of the trials we have had with Kensington's eye here, here and here. As of right now, the stint hasn't taken and it isn't working properly (as you can see from the picture above). Last week, she had blood in her tears and it concerned the doctor. They are monitoring it, but it looks like the stint didn't do the job they were hoping it would. This means that there will be the surgery in February to remove the stint and then Sean and I will have a big decision to make. Whether we go forward with a more invasive surgery, which entails the surgeon building her a completely new tear duct.

I would love your prayers. The thought of it makes my stomach turn.

proper fuel.

2012-01-02T16:00:00.000-08:00

(For some comic relief and to understand my previous mindset, please do yourself a favor and watch this and this).

and THIS was just sent to me from reader Dani. THANK YOU. Hilarity.

***

"If you're going to do it, you may as well do it properly."

-Jamie Oliver

I have always loved Jamie Oliver. Not because he's popular but because he's easy to listen to, watch and follow. His science isn't overwhelming and he is simply speaking truth, as it comes to food. He really doesn't operate off of opinion, but rather, fact.

I've been using his recipes (not as often as I should) for years; I think I received my first cookbook from his collection, our first year of marriage, in 2002.

I love Jamie.

For about the past 8 months, I've been thinking a lot about what I eat. In the past 8 years or so, I have been on my fair share of diets and "plans", but I always know that those are just a holding pattern until I confess that the only way to health is it BE healthy. I'm not sure what is causing the change in my heart towards food, but it could be as easy as I can no longer eat a box of Cheezits without paying the price on the scale (although I try). Or it could be that I am wise enough to know that what I put in my body directly influences my outward reactions. It could be either. It could be both.

Truthfully, I have oscillated in my weight for about 6 years. Not a huge pendulum, but enough to where I can notice in photos (a good freshman fifteen, or so). What I find funny about it is that I truly have no issue with "food" in that I don't eat in emotional times more than I eat in non-emotional times. I don't diet because I hate myself when I'm "fat", I diet because I don't like the way extra weight makes me feel, physically. I don't look at food as a comfort, I look at it as delicious and so I eat it. In the past when I would gain 10 pounds, I would hear from a friend or family member, "She must be going through a hard time....she's putting on weight", which I never really understood. If I look back on the hardest parts of my life, there wasn't a huge weight gain pattern that followed. Usually I gained weight when I was out with a injury that held me from exercise or during a time of busyness and I couldn't get my Tae-Bo on. Or during pregnancy. It never really had to do with my depression or my personal heartache.

I don't have food issues as they are normally diagnosed. I don't overeat. I don't binge. I don't purge.

I just love to eat and have no limits on what I allow myself to indulge in, within a specific day/week/month. I don't think much about moderation and I don't think much about eating until my eyes fall out. I just eat what I want, when I want. The issue of health arises because I have, for the most part, surrounded myself with less than healthful options.

What I DO have is a food issue with WHAT I eat.

I'm the first to admit that I represent middle America. The middle where we eat McDonalds, twinkies and gulp Diet Coke. It's good (or so I've trained my pallet).

I'm not as bad as some and I'm smart enough to know that its stupid for me to have knowledge and not use it, but oh well. I do it anyway and I'm lazy.

I suppose it's one of the only areas of my life that I allow myself to be lazy in and boy have I grown accustomed to it. I live within the realms of self control in so many areas of my life that I think I have enjoyed having no "rules" as it comes to eating (so I suppose I do have a food issue, now that I type that and read it out loud...?)

I think the most ironic and sad part about it is I totally enjoy healthy, clean food, also. I have eaten at expensive, organic and high-falooten restaurants and sure you can taste the difference. They aren't using ingredients that you can't pronounce. It's REAL food and I love it. Some of my favorite foods are delightfully basic.

What I don't love about healthy food and the main reasons I choose the low quality alternative is because it's harder to get (not really) and much more expensive (also not really if you cut out all the crud and eat simply).

In short, I know that I should eat well and I don't.

Out of "convenience".

I'm trading my health (and my future health) because I want a quick solution to meals.

It even astonishes me the stupidity of that, as I write it.

I wrote this post several months ago and I have certainly gotten better about making healthier choices for myself. It's kinda hard to NOT eat better when I'm feeding my children steamed fish and organic yogurt (because I care about their health, but not my own) but I still have a long way to go. I'm still lazy (which I touched on in that previous post). I still get annoyed with people who give me a hard time for chugging a Diet Coke. I still go out for a 5 mile run and then come home and eat a baked potato with sour cream and butter.

I guess it takes a long time to change a mind-set.

My children are making it happen faster than I would, however, and I'm grateful.

From the beginning, I was giving them sushi, vegetables, fruits and fish. Lean meats, grains and nuts. They love that stuff. (Of course they also eat cheese-balls because it's American, dangit!)

I started working out with my brother a few months ago (and of course was sidelined by a ankle injury) but the first thing he told me was this, "Rachel, If you want to lose weight and be healthy, you need to stop eating crap (pardon his French). You can work out all you want but if you're eating that stuff, you aren't going to lose weight. You put that coffeemate creamer in your coffee and you may as well have 2 cups of sugar with dinner. It's not real food. Don't do it."

Slowly I'm making changes, but it's still hard. It's still a mind change for me because I'm all about my liberties and if I want to eat some pie and some Oreos and then a large sandwich with slimy deli meat, I should be able to, right?

And I am able to.

But I'm beginning to ask myself, "Do you really want to"?

Take away the weight aspect because the older I get, the less the number matters to me. Let's talk about toxins, health and the horrible chemicals that are in our food. We all know it's there but for some reason, America has a resistance towards knowledge about food. It's changing but something about the previous generation wants to pretend that the treatment of animals and the facilities that are spitting out our processed snacks aren't contributing to the levels of obesity and the rate at which Americans are getting cancer diagnosis'.

If we are what we eat, America is a perfect poster-child.

I'm compelled to know what I am putting in my mouth, more so than ever.

Back to my main man, Jamie.

I'm finding that what I like most about his recipes is that they don't use ingredients that can only be found at specialty stores and they only use several ingrediants. They are clean recipes that are simple and highlight the flavor of food and spices, while not overwhelming you with a combination of 14 different things.

It's basic, delicious cooking.

Plus, he's funny and British (I mean, hello, Mary Poppins would totally use his book, too).

Yes, I still have a hard time purchasing a organic chicken for almost $17.00 (but it truly looks and tastes better).

It still makes me wince that I threw down $27.00 on sea scallops yesterday at Whole Foods.

However, I know where my food comes from. Shoot, I could call the farmer and actually speak to him, more than likely. It's real food with no chemicals, pesticides and flavor.

Tonight I am making Pan-Roasted Chicken with Sweet and Sour Sauce from here and it will be lovely. Simple and lovely.

That's worth the extra dimes and time that I spent, outlining each meal for the week. It's worth the time I spent laboring over recipes that will leave my family happy and healthier.

Of course there is a moment where I want to coat the chicken with cornflakes and perhaps throw it in a casserole with Cream of Mushroom soup, but not really.

Bad tendencies don't need to be pacified.

They simply need to be acknowledged and then put to rest.

One recipe at a time.

you say goodbye and I say hello. hello, hello.

2011-12-31T09:00:00.000-08:00

This year I wore a kelly-green sweater and sat close to the outdoor heater (practically on top of it, since it was 55 degrees outside and clearly that means that it's freezing). Sean and I had phoned a babysitter and found ourselves at our yearly destination, for 'Resolution Dinner'.

Yes, we go to dinner and dine while we (read: I) scribble down our goals, for the upcoming year. Sean pretends to not be embarrassed as I plop a chunky moleskin notebook and fountain pen, on the dinner table.

It doesn't bother me and he is a good sport, so the tradition lives on.

Sean shared his goals (he is always practical and almost always mentions needing a routine visit to the dentist).

When it was my turn I casually mentioned that I would really like to hone in on my culinary skills. I enjoy cooking and baking and am expanding my rolodex of recipes. (I have it in my mind to be able to cook an entire goose, without flinching.)

Yes, cooking is on my list.

Really though, the most important goal I had (have) was encapsulated in one word. A word that's overused all the time and spoken with such ease that you would think our society would have mastered its use and function, but we miss the margin by so much, it's comical and certainly ironic.

I said that my goal for 2012, in all areas of my life, was simplicity.

(Not the simplicity that you can find in the pages of a woman's magazine, encouraging you to reorganize your linen drawer or set up a gift wrapping station, in your home, in efforts to give you more "time" (when in actuality you save time only to fill it up with other things to do). No, I am on a search for the true meaning of simplicity in my life. I'm finding it in small spaces and corners I have left unturned, but it turns out that being "simple" and living a "simple life" are so much easier to talk about and a lot more difficult to do.)

As soon as I got home, I went downstairs and flipped through the pages of my dusty dictionary, searching for crystal clear clarity. I knew what I wanted, I just wasn't sure how to say it. Or what it meant.

I found this.

Simplicity:

*The state, quality or instance of being simple.

*Freedom from complexity, intricacy or division into parts.

*Absence of luxury, pretentiousness, ornament etc.; plainness.....

and so on.

Of all the interpretations, the one that shouted at me was "freedom from....the division into parts"

I'll spare you all of the sorted details of my last 31 years, but I've found that I am able to separate myself into so many parts that, at times, I no longer resemble myself. Grant it, in the last year I have become considerably better at reclaiming my life, my family's time and my personal time...but that doesn't stop my tendencies.

I can see the wonderful and the good that needs to be done. That should be done. Small things and big things and in-between things that are valuable and happy and joy-filled and purposeful. Those things are all around me (and you) and it all does need to get done.

It just doesn't have to all get done by me. In fact, most things don't have to be done by me.

I don't want a division of parts, in my life. I want to be a whole person that purposefully picks what she does and has the knowledge and wisdom to choose wisely. To see the conveyor-belt of life's choices pass me by and know exactly what to pick up and take on. To know what to leave.

During my time away from blogging, I found myself saying to Sean, "This computer break is nice". Sure, I would check out an occasional blog and comment or return emails (I'm not a luddite, you know) but on the whole, I wasn't online. You know what? It was nice and it was simple.

I realized something! It can be similar to this, all the time, if I choose. This nice vacation from craziness can be permanent, if I choose to give some things up. It's totally up to me. Why hadn't I understood this before? And no- this simplifying isn't about saying no to just the computer, because I won't be. I fully intend on continuing my blog, writing here. I love it.

The computer simply served as a reminder that I have a choice. I choose. I pick. I make things stressful or simple. In all areas of my life.

The past few months have been filled with simple moments and days and times with friends, family and doing things that matter to me. All because I'm learning to not divide the parts of my life into sections, but rather, travel as a whole. Traveling to the things that are good and right and chosen for me. Not things I force, because I think I must do them. Or because I think someone wants me to. Or maybe because it's what everyone else is doing.

Before this time I felt like I must have been doing o.k because I had eliminated several things from my plate but even when I did that, I still hadn't eliminated enough. I hadn't been honest with myself that too much of a good thing can be detrimental. I was looking around at people who were doing everything and thinking, "I do so much less then them, so I must be doing just enough". When really, I needed to cut out even more.

It's almost never going to help my cause to look at those around me and watch what they are doing. If I did that, I would see ladies who have booming business', homeschool their children, organize their church's woman's events and somehow maintain a wonderful and serene home life. Oh and they are published and they organize confrences and run a personal blog with paid advertising and also a side business through their house and also sponsor 5 children in Africa and take missions trips to Venezuela. And their nails are painted.

We all know that it simply isn't possible. It's not. At least I can't do it. No amount of pretty posts can make me believe that a woman can do all that (or should). I believe it's one of the biggest lies our society spoon feeds us. We gladly chew it up too (I have). There is no such thing as superwoman and I don't think there should be, really.

There is no such thing because we aren't meant to be society's version of superwoman. It's not feasible. It's the opposite of simple. We aren't able to be in four places at once, we only have 24 hours in a day, two hands and one heart. To constantly challenge ourselves to add more and more and more to our plates, calendars and brain is unfair and in the end....our families and ourselves will suffer at the hands of the things that perhaps didn't need to be done RIGHT THEN.

I'm working to learn a new version of simple. A new version of who the Lord wants me to be. Focused, intentional and purposeful. With a few important things to put my all into.

Recently, I realized that I and others look at being an "all or nothing" person as a quality that needs to be fixed. I'm learning I don't think that character quality is in need of change. I think that being "all or nothing" is beneficial when you are concentrating on the things that the Lord puts in your lap. It's dangerous when you are trying to be all or nothing with 19 different things, at once (shocking).

I'm working on being simple by choosing the best of the good.

There is so much good. Do you ever get overwhelmed with all the good you can chose from?

I do.

I do all the time.

There are clubs and groups and tailor-made gatherings for my every whim. There are activities for my children that could keep them occupied dawn to dusk. There are blog tutorials and websites for any hobby I can imagine. There are ideas swirling around in my head that I don't want to let go of. There are notebooks filled with thoughts and events that I would love to produce into actual things. But oh my word, I must slow down.

I only really want a few things. Honestly, I can only really do a few things and do them well. The more I heap on my plate, the more my family takes a hit. The more my mind and body suffer.

The less good I do, overall.

.....

Back to 'Resolution dinner'.

I told Sean how badly I desire to live a simple life and he plainly said, "You can. You just need to be willing to let go of things."

He was right and I didn't brush off his advice. It echoed and I kept racking my brain about what gets the proverbial "ax". The Lord wasn't being clear with me (in the way I wanted Him to, that is) and I was getting irritated. The more days that went by the more frustrated I became. So, I let go of the idea of needing something spelled out for me. I let go of needing a clear answer. I just let it go.

I let it go.

I took a break from writing.

I baked a pie.

I stopped thinking about it.

Wouldn't you know, when I stopped trying to solve the puzzle, it became clear? One night, while cleaning the living room, it was clear. Clear as crystal and I started the journey of saying goodbye.

I reluctantly said goodbye here (one of the hardest choices I have ever made, but the right one).

I said goodbye to this.

I wrote and thanked all my lovely sponsors for the last two years of sponsoring No. 17, but told them that writing feature posts and handling invoicing was a large stress on me. I would no longer be offering advertising on my blog.

I said goodbye to my other three personal blogs.

I said goodbye to a group I'm involved in.

I said goodbye to a new idea I had that I thought I was supposed to bring to fruition.

Some of these were easy for me to say goodbye to and others were very difficult. It's hard to listen to the Lord when something you worked hard for and think could grow into a large ministry, needs to be released. It's hard to say goodbye to income. It's hard to let go of something you're good at. It's hard to let go of dreams. It's hard and I cried.

Really hard.

In the end, I can't trade sanity, time with my family, presence of mind and simplicty for "good".

I need to chose the best of the good and not worry about the rest. It was hard to choose and hard to simplify. Which seems counterintuative. Somehow I had it in my head that it might be easy, but it's not that simple (pun intended).

But hello to even more time spent with my children. Hello to evenings not spent laboring over my next piece of work and hello to focusing on close friends and family and writing letters and reading books and cleaning the floor without stress. Hello to not checking my phone when someone is talking to me and looking someone in the eye. Hello to having an open calendar for when someone calls me to sit and chat. Hello to revisiting old traditions and antiquities and enjoying the learning.

Hello to a fresh start to a blog. A fresh start to writing when I desire, having no timelines or requirements.

Hello to no longer worrying about keeping current with social media trends.

Hello to no more competition for sponsors, conference attendees or possible agents to publish me.

Hello to one of my first loves....selling vintage.

Hello to a even more relaxed life that isn't dictated by a calendar filled with clients, important emails, production dates or a million mandatory extracurricular activities for myself or children.

Hello to a simple and beautiful project with her that will encourage lives, all with a purposeful vision.

Hello is almost always better than goodbye.

And simple is always better than a division of parts.

So, hello.

Some say goodbye and I say hello.

Hello New Year.

Hello Simplifying.

Hello, Hello.

thankful.

2011-11-23T06:30:00.000-08:00

(thank you to all Thankful on Paper participants. there will be no link up, today)

(photographing compliments of MRB)

I am so very thankful for so many things.

So much so that I can't even list them all because I'm sure I would leave things out and never satisfy my need to be grateful in totality. I will pen my list in my mind and heart and keep it sacred, full and whole.

This year has been overwhelming in the best possible way and I am bursting with thankfulness at the idea of what the next year will represent. Thank you for being a reader and following along, through all of the journey. I appreciate you, your comments, emails and encouragement. You have grown so endearing, to me.

I can't wait to share some most lovely, special and exciting things with you, but all in due time.

Until then, please enjoy and revel in your Thanksgiving moments, the season of Christmas and the farwell of this special year.

I will see you in 2012! I look forward to it.

(on publication)

2011-11-22T08:00:00.000-08:00

(source)

I have been writing in journals, on spare pieces of paper and in notebooks for as long as I can remember. I still have black binders full of awkward stories with no actual plot or reason for being written. Most of the time they were put on paper because I had a interesting name pop into my head and I thought it would fit perfectly with a made up character, that was living in my mind (like Vivi, who was a 11 year old Bavarian girl with tight black pin-curls and a penchant for collecting birch tree branches to make bird-houses).

I've been writing for a long time. Years and years and years.

Much before It was ever intentional.

Much of it is rubbish.

Most of it is, in fact.

Then I went and started a blog and it since has changed my outlook on writing.

What once was done for simple pleasure, distraction or emotional release, evolved into a habit that now has expectation tied to it. Mostly expectation that I had placed on myself.

Expectations that are completely misplaced and irrelevant to where God had placed me on my personal journey.

At times (especially in the last year) It seems like personal publication is at an all time high. E-Books have revolutionized the way people can become published and there are moments when I think to myself, "Who's next? Which of my friends will write a book next?"

Even as I write that, I'm afraid it could sound like sour grapes and that is not the intention. In fact, quite the opposite. Friends are publishing books and I am thrilled for them. Flattered that they send me their books and happy to read their exceptional work. I am proud of them and my feelings on the matter are no reflection on their accomplishments.

This is not about them, it's really all about me learning more about myself and saving my mind from undo feelings of anxiety.

Plainly stated, there are days where I go online and think, "Why don't I have a book deal? I think I'd do great at a book signing!"

When I step back and really think about it, I realize this:

I don't want to publish a book.

And I mean that.

Not in the "I really want to publish a book more than anything in the entire world but I'm going to lie to myself and say I don't want to so I can protect my fragile feelings when no one is interested in signing me."

But truly, from the bottom of my heart, I really don't want to be published.

Not now. Not as I am.

When I look at the publishing world and the availability for young writers (of which I am) it seems too simple and it would be very easy for me to make something happen for myself, but that is not nor should it EVER be a reason to reach for the goal.

I have such a respect for literature, for books and for quality writing that I would be remised if I took that leap to prove that I could. It, to my way of thinking, would be shameful, rushed and disingenuous.

For ME.

Not you.

And if you are a published writer, this has no bearing on what you have done.

I simply had to take into account the fact that I have no desire to, at this time in my life, be published because I don't have a body of work WORTHY of publication.

The Lord hasn't given me something to write about that needs to be in print. It's just not for me.

It's not what He has for me and I have learned that my writing is for my sheer enjoyment and for the encouragement of others.

That is what my writing is for.

Sure, it began as a fun idea for me to throw words on a screen (4.5 years ago!), but it has changed into something quite different. While it can be so easy to see what others are doing and cling on to their dream and assume it should be ours, it's much more difficult to pass the plate and say, "not now" and be patient.

A publisher could come up to me and offer me a book deal today, (I like to think that someone will notice me in Trader Joes and strike up conversation, only to tell me that they would like to pay me to take a year to write a book) and I would turn them down.

I'm not ready and I'm somewhat confident that I'll never be and that is alright.

Publishing never was and shouldn't be my end goal.

My goal in writing is turning back to what it once was.

Writing to write.

Because it makes me more clear. It makes me more introspective.

Simply put, writing makes me more ME.

I'm not sure if seeing my name on a book spine would give me the same fulfillment.

Perhaps it might someday, but only if the Lord ordains it. Until then, my mind is set on where He has me.

I have to wonder if you struggle with this same concept? Let this be a comfort to you, my friend....just because God has someone else in a specific place does not mean he has you there or wants you anywhere near it.

just enough.

2011-11-21T13:30:00.000-08:00

"Enough is as good as a feast."

-Mary Poppins

I'm not quite sure what the purpose of this post is, but that's ok, isn't it? For it not to have a definite purpose? I hope so because I'm pretty certain it has no beginning and really no end.

I think I left my home two times this weekend and those were forced exits, out of complete necessity. While I don't mind heading out, there is something quite comforting about staying in and in my case, desirable. I'm a homebody and enjoy being so.

When the rain comes, the winds blow harshly through the trees and clouds cover any glimpse of sun, I begin to prepare like there's a twista (Kansas accent), but in a excited fashion. I get the blankets out, start up the heater and ready the casserole dishes because it's my summer. Summer has never been my idea of relaxation. Sweating makes me anxious, so I much prefer cardigans and lounging on a couch. That's my type of unwinding.

This weekend we were warmed and not just from the furnace but by the people who surrounded us, the food we consumed and the assurance of knowing that God is good to give us just enough, all the time.

Isn't it odd that we (as intrinsically selfish creatures) can fascinate ourselves on a false sense of what we need, be it in possession or circumstance and then, when sitting around a table eating and conversing with our dearest, we realize we want for nothing?

Oh, to bottle that contentment and carry it with us, during this holiday season.

Hmm. I guess the post had a purpose after all. Not intended, but lovely at any rate.

When i see these faces....

2011-11-19T11:30:00.000-08:00

...my faith grows.

the subjectivity of "better".

2011-11-17T10:30:00.000-08:00

A few weeks ago I sat around a table, having tea with three girfriends. I found myself sharing sentiments that I was happy 2011 was drawing to a close.

Again the other evening, I was on the phone with a confidant and echoed the same feeling.
"I'm happy for 2012. I'm really hoping next year is better."

Better.

As I have continued to shared this same feeling, with those closest to me, It's caused me pause and forced me to really think about what I am saying and if I really mean it. What am I even saying? When I actually stop my mouth from speaking and force my brain to process the words first, I come to a much different conclusion.

Allow me....

2011 has been hard for me and I have ceased to apologize for sharing that. I no longer feel bad (chalk that up to classic first child syndrome where "everything is perfect even when life is in the toilet") for saying that this past year was a struggle for me. So much has happened. We moved into a new neighborhood, had a baby, left our home church and found a new place of worship, watched the changing landscape of relationships, ushered our oldest into the hospital doors for two surgeries, hospitalized our baby, celebrated the 4th anniversary of our miscarriage and the the list continues.

2011 has passed through like a lion and it's not quite over yet but I already find myself using the same under-processed verbiage, that everyone uses after a rough and tumble calendar year.

"I hope next year is better".

The more I think about it (and think and think and think), I truly, honestly and assuredly do NOT want 2012 to be "better".

For when I say that I want it to be "better", all I really mean is that I want there to be less struggle, less change, more comfortability and more of the same.

When really, that isn't what I want at all.

Life is going to happen and it's never a matter of IF, it's a matter of WHEN.

God promises the Christian a life abundant, not a life perfect and I have found that in 2011.

More than any other year in my life, I have learned heaps and heaps. I could write volumes that fill a shelf about revelations and conclusions I have come to, about myself. About life. About my life and how I am faltered, fallen, coming up void and disastrous. I've learned how I am joyful, loving, compassionate and idealistic. How I am a mere shadow of who I was in 2010. I'm not what I was and I am not who I am going to be, but oh 2011 has shaped and formed me and made me a step closer.

When I say I want next year to be 'better', that is simply foolish because all of the circumstances that occurred in 2011 made me better. They refined me. They allowed me to see myself (and others) for what we all are. Good and bad.

When will we understand that "better" is not always the happiest, most desirable and most affluent of circumstances? "Better" is merely a subjective word that allows us to describe the what we think we want. We think we want so many things and really, we don't know what we need until life is thrown at us and we are forced to reckon with who we have become and what we truly desire to be.

In 2011 I learned the most about myself, who I stand as and where I am willing to go.

I don't want everyone else's subjective idea of "better".

I want the type of "better" that truly brings me closer to where I am supposed to be.

That's what I'll be looking for in 2012.

Thankful on Paper-Week Three

2011-11-16T16:00:00.000-08:00

There has been no shortage of thank you notes, making their way into my mailbox. This month has been filled with stationary, fountain pens and a multitude of stamps. I wrote HERE last week about the subject of learning to accept "help" and I am still tackling the long list of people that I want to thank. People who give and give and expect nothing in return. I love those types of people and I strive daily to be that for someone else.

This weeks letter is a special note that I am choosing to keep private but I am so very thankful. This person challenges me to think bigger than I normally would. Challenges me to think outside of myself, my circumstances and my life and look farther into the lives of others. And make a impact.

I look forward to seeing who you are thankful for.

the new thing.

2011-11-16T07:00:00.000-08:00

mangia! mangia!

2011-11-14T06:00:00.000-08:00

(source)

Of all the things I enjoy about Fall and Winter, staying indoors is at the top of the list.

Do you love it too?

How could you not love being inside, waltzing around in slippers (although a new pair might be necessary, soon) and cooking, baking and reading?

In the past few months, I have tried a few new recipes to include in our weekly meal 'rotation' and some have really been great. Some, I must be truthful, left much to be desired. I've even tried two gluten-free dinner recipes that were completely vegetarian and completely vegan (I know!) and they were delightful.

As wonderful as new recipes are, sometimes you need to defer to an 'old faithful' and I have about ten of those. The types of meals that never ever disappoint and make you feel warm and comforted, in a way. Why does food offer that emotion, I wonder? I mean, once you eat it, it's over and never to be seen again (well....), so why do we care so much about it? Labor over meals and then regret eating that second (or third) piece of chocolate cake?

Whatever the reason is, it's nice to know that you can make something with your own hands and people gather to enjoy it. Almost daily. It's one of those ritualistic tasks that usually recieves fanfare (of some sort). I mean, I don't have someone applaud me when I vaccuum or give me an award for folding three basket-fulls of laundry.

Each night, however, someone comments on the dinner I've created. It's nice! It makes me smile and in some small and somewhat insignifigant way, it makes me feel so very accomplished. I did something that fulfilled multiple purposes! It nourished someone's body but also nourished their heart.

My children don't know it yet, but they'll love these meals someday. One day, they will enter a resturaunt, while traveling abroad in their freshman year of college.

They'll walk in that tiny bistro and a earthy, savory scent will waft from the kitchen and catch them by surprise. Perhaps the chef is preparing a light tomato bisque, but what they'll think of is the smell that travelled from our kitchen downstairs to the play room, when they were building Lego's, all those many years ago.

What they'll remember is sitting around the kitchen table and laughing while they quietly tried to avoid eating the broccoli, that I mixed in the mashed potatoes.

They'll be 3000 miles away but be right in the middle of our kitchen, at the same time.

They'll be home.

Because cooking, preparing and eating food is a happy thing. A joyful thing.

A family thing.

So, why don't you cook this wonderful recipe tonight? It's one of my stand-by's and I love it. I've cooked it for a few years now and it is always a delight. People devour it. My 'foodie' friends and non-foodie friends alike, all sing it's praises.

I'll be preparing it today and then serving it to family that is visiting, this evening.

Won't you do the same?

Let me know how it turns out (some French Bread, on the side, wouldn't hurt either!)

MANGIA!

the value of small (as provoked by Kathleen Kelly).

2011-11-12T10:00:00.000-08:00

Few dwellings are as enchanting as Kathleen Kelly's brownstone, in You've Got Mail.

In fact, I can't think of one.

It makes me want to cover myself up in her quilted duvet and talk with her for hours (because it's normal to think of fictional movie characters as our friends, correct?).

If you haven't seen the movie (shame on you), you really should. The original is simply captivating too (don't you love Jimmy Stewart?). Truly, the movie should be a Fall staple. It's simply warm and delightful. Please do watch.

In fact, I'm watching right now. Snuggled on my couch and then the quote that hits me every time struck again.

K.K: "Sometimes I wonder about my life. I lead a small life-well, valuable, but small- and sometimes I wonder, do I do it because I like it, or because I haven't been brave? So much of what I see reminds me of something I read in a book, when shouldn't it be the other way around? I don't really want an answer. I just want to send this cosmic question out out into the void. So good night, dear void."

Don't you feel like that, sometimes?

Small, I mean. Small in your house, small in your comings and going's. Small in your details. Maybe small in your business.

Just small.

I do. I certainly do.

Kathleen Kelly did.

And then I think about it more and realize that small is good. In fact, small is better (to my way of thinking).

Small is valuable.

Small is me and I love that so many of us are small and special and tending to our own little 'bookstore'. You can concentrate on the small details that make you, you. That make your life unique and lovely and purposeful and colorful and filled with light.

Small is indeed valuable and precious.

So, go watch Kathleen Kelly today. It will warm your heart just a little (and it would be even better with a little hot chocolate and marshmallows).

Happy Weekend, lovely readers.

I hope it is delightful (and maybe rainy because don't you just love that?).

an obscure love story containing bryan adams.

2011-11-11T15:00:00.000-08:00

So, let's get happy.

I'll tell you why I'm happy....

My husband came home early, we snagged lunch at Islands with my mother in law and watched a fountain spurt water, for about 20 minutes. Simple pleasures are so much more simple when you watch them with children.

Tonight, Kensington is spending some time with my parents (my mom bought me a jacket from Kohl's today and I love it!) while Sean and I have some time to relax with friends, eat dinner, get inked and have chips and salsa. Perfect!

Take a look at this face. Isn't it the cutest?

And this lamp? My sister in law gave it to me and I adore how non-proportional it is to the tiny table it is on. Totally out of place and perfect!
This is my daughters favorite movie EVER. My heart is breaking a little because HELLO WE ALL KNOW WHAT IS THE BEST MOVIE, but she loves this one. She has watched it 7 times.

Don't let her fool you. She's a ham. Loves the camera. What a silly girl. Silly and funny and smart and sweet and told me today that she wanted to pack her Bible in her backpack for Grandma's because she, "didn't want to forget about God." Precious.
*****

So, this story has nothing to with anything. There is absolutely no rhyme or reason behind me telling you this except I thought of it today (out of the blue) and it's one of those stories that doesn't parallel anything in my life, but it's too good not to share. Well, maybe it's not even that good, but it certainly is funny. To me, at least.

When I was in 6th grade, I was a complete loner. I had one friend and her name was Bailey. She had long hair and was sooo pretty. I remember that her older sister was an amateur photographer and would pose her as a super model and let her hold wine glasses/cigarettes, which I thought was SUPER cool at the time but now am TOTALLY scared by (and understand why my mom never let me visit her house). At any rate, she was my only friend. We ate lunch together.

Other than her, I was a loner and an unpopular one. I had come to a public school straight from private and was a bit of a fish out of water. The kids were rougher, faster and more mature than I was and I was, to be quite honest, a little scared.

I had no friends.

I enrolled in choir.

Because that's the BEST THING you can do if you are a nerd at a school where no one knows you.

On Friday's, our choir leader would let us pick out popular songs on the karaoke machine and have our try at them. I chickened out MANY times. Never did it.

Until I met Christian. Christian Materazzi was a tall (probably 5 foot 2) sixth grader who had all the right moves. He was smooth with the ladies and he wore white hi-top sneakers and a VERY COOL Hyper-Color shirt, with light denim.

Oh yeah.

One Friday something came over me. I'm not sure why and I'm not sure what prompted it, but I swiped that microphone off the piano. I told the teacher (who was weird to let us sing KISS FM's Top 40, in the first place) that I wanted to sing a love song and sing it hard.

And I did.

I stood in front of the entire class and sang Bryan Adams, "Everything I Do (I do it for you)".

I stared straight into the eyes of Christian Materazzi and gave him my best vibrato. I belted it.

"THERE'S NO LOVE (Christian), LIKE YOUR LOVE (Christian!)

AND NO OTHER, COULD GIVE MORE LOVE!

THERE'S NOWHERE, UNLESS YOU'RE THERE!

ALL THE TIIIIIME. ALL THE WAAAAYYY, YEAAAAHHHH."

I sang like I never sang before. I had so much love in my heart for Christian and he needed to know it! Couldn't he see me, standing in my sea-foam green Contempo Casual jeans and baring my soul, for all to see?

Too bad (for me) that he was flirting with a red-head that sat next to him.

I went back to private school, the next year.

Got my friends back. Got my lunch on, with the cool kids.

But I never forgot about Christian and my lost love ballad.

*****

keeping Christmas (in defense of constant celebration).

2011-11-11T06:30:00.000-08:00

source

My brother and I are taking my mother to see A CHRISTMAS CAROL at the South Coast Repetory, for her Christmas present (don't worry: she doesn't read my blog, lest the surprise be spoiled).

I love Charles Dickens (though my book club didn't) and I especially love the character Ebenezer. Mainly because everyone looks at him with some contempt but we are all more like him then we'd like to believe.

My mom forced us to watch A Christmas Carol each and every year, growing up. It was a unavoidable Christmastime tradition. While most children were gleefully watching Home Alone and Christmas Vacation, my brother and I were arguing the differences between the Alastair Sims version and the George C. Scott adaptation of 1984 (which I prefer). Much resentment was withheld for the loss of our 'childhood', but as an adult, I appreciate her siting us down to watch these movies. I really do.

Instead of identifying Christmas with a bratty kid that gets left in the attic of his house (but seriously, WHO forgets their kid?!), I was memorizing lines from a classic. One particular collection of words has become part of my catalog of phrases, that reappears almost weekly, in my mind:

"I will honour Christmas in my heart and try to keep it all the year. I will live in the Past, the Present and the Future. The Spirits of all three shall strive within me. I will not shut out the lessons they teach. Oh, tell me I may sponge away the writing on this stone!"

-A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens

This passage guards my sensibilities. It guards me, especially when the inevitable rolls in.

Every year the voices change but the message is resoundingly the same....people are so flustered that I become anticipatory for the holidays, once Fall emerges. In years past I have laughed off others cynicism and furry when I want to listen to Christmas music in October. I would brush off their rude comments that I am "ignoring Thanksgiving for Christmas" and yadayada (I stop listening).

But this year, I have heard a sentiment more than one time and it really got to me. On more than one occasion, people have challenged that by looking 'forward' to Christmas and the impending holiday, that I am missing the "now". I'm missing the forest for the trees and singing carols along the way. I'm rushing time and not appreciating what is happening in this moment right here. I'm sacrificing the enjoyment of a thankful season for the excitement of a pending pine-tree purchase.

To that sentiment, I would like to respectfully disagree and say that I think they are missing the entire point.

I don't want to wish away Thanksgiving. I love Thanksgiving. I love the Fall leaves and the apple cider. I love one day a year when I concentrate wholly on everything I have to be grateful for. Intentionally I tell myself that I wish to have the spirit of thankfulness, year round (and make that a goal). I find joy in sitting around, with my family and friends and glancing at each one. Reminding myself that it isn't by coincidence that these people are in my life. They've been placed and I am grateful. I am thankful. I never replace Thanksgiving with Christmas. I wholeheartedly celebrate both.

I do believe, however, that the spirit of Christmas lives in my heart all year. It never disappears. The Christmas lights get packed away and the tree is picked up by the recycling truck (far too late, might I add. Who needs a Christmas tree in the middle of January?!) but my heart is immersed in a state of Christmas all year long. I'm not talking about the Christmas you see in the aisles of Wal-Mart or the Christmas you feel when you hear Andy Williams sing, "It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year (although my brother loves that song).

No.

I'm talking about the overwhelming joy that Christmas can bring, should you choose to let it.

The realization that your entire salvation and purpose on this earth can be inextricably knit to a small child, laying in a manger.

The realization that this whole world isn't about you or the presents under the tree but about being kind to one another.

The realization that you are blessed beyond belief and so your job now is to go out and be a blessing.

That is the Christmas I hold in my heart. The joy and kindness that I want to feel each and every day, even in the middle of July.

So, when people tell me I'm missing the point of Thanksgiving and living in the moment and I'm pushing time along too fast and not enjoying the present...

Well, I simply nod, smile and know in my heart that I am purely keeping Christmas.

And it's ok if they don't understand.

Thankful on Paper 2011- Week Two

2011-11-09T19:00:00.000-08:00

Thankful on Paper is a cinch, this week. This week I have too many people to write (good problem). While my daughter was in the hospital, we received countless displays of love, support and encouragement. We had people bringing us lunch, dinner and breakfast, each day. People sent flowers, wrote cards, called, texted and emailed.

We were blown away by the caring souls which surround us.

I really can't say 'thank you' enough, but I will try.

So, this week, instead of writing just one thank you note, I'll be writing them by the dozens. Literally.

And stamps aren't cheap, so I'll be taking out a loan, to pay for the postage.

But nothing makes me happier.

What about you?

(go here to see Week One)

confessions from a leather couch (and a reminder or two)

2011-11-09T14:00:00.000-08:00

*I wrote this quite awhile ago, HERE, but thought it might be needed. After a long conversation with a friend, I feel like someone should rip the band-aid off of the whole, "let's not talk about seeing a shrink" ordeal. Because it's not an ordeal.

It's ok.

You're ok. I'm ok. Wait....wasn't that a book?

Read on.

***

THERAPY.

And I’m not talking about the physical kind.

I’m talking about bare your soul, get down and dirty, sort through and fold your nasty laundry….

THERAPY.

What is it about therapy that makes us religious folk run to the hills? Fold their arms in front of them? Tense up and distance themselves from the very thought that they may need it?

It’s pride.

Much like an ugly cry, there is an ugly pride and it is rampant amongst those in the church. Therapy is wonderful for people who have suffered a divorce, miscarriage, loss of a spouse or an abusive childhood.

I’ll tell you who it’s NOT for.

It’s not for me. Your run of the mill, Judeo-Christian believing, blonde haired, high school cheerleading, never-done-drugs-before-in-my-life-out-of-fear-of-getting-caught-30 year old. No. It’s certainly not for me or any of my friends because we have our stuff together. Ducks in a row, pregnancies planned, 401K’s in tact and pretty little houses, lining Wisteria Lane.

Until the bottom falls out and you are left, holding on to the prefect poloroid of what you thought was normal.

Life happens and you realize that you are actually more screwed up then you want to admit. Somehow dirt, filth and dysfunction {that you swore you would avoid} creep into the cracks in your mind and soul and the result is an imperfect person, trying to act settled.

But you aren’t.

I’m not.

And it took years of watching other people go to see a shrink and feeling sorry for them {how sad to have so many problems that you have to pay someone to listen!} for me to realize that I might just be the saddest case of all.

The person that lives the perfect life. Has no reason to be unhappy. Has everything together, for everyone else. And is dying on the inside.

So, sign me up.

I’ll pay by the hour.

Heck, give me a punch-card up and I’ll fill that sucker up. If therapy is for the dogs, I’ll win BEST IN SHOW because I’m one sick puppy.

Shiny, pretty and well groomed but oh so depraved and in need of a couch.

***

(also)

*THANK YOU for all of your interest in 3 by 7 accountability! We have over 40 people signed up! I'm really hoping to get an email out to all of you this weekend so be on the look out for that. I went out for a run last night and it was great. I thought of you while I was out there, sweating! We have a official Twitter hashtag: #3by7

*Don't forget to write your Thankful on Paper letter today and link up tomorrow! I'm loving all of the involvement so far!

(VLOG) Stove Top, Running, Chex Mix and Accountability

2011-11-07T16:00:00.000-08:00

first steps

2011-11-05T19:30:00.000-07:00

We are home.

But I can't shake our hospital trip.
I'm not sure what I should be reflecting on, but somehow I can't just forget it happened and move on.
No.
It's the first steps of something.

And so is what you are going through.
The first steps.

***

"At times the world can seem an unfriendly and sinister place, but believe us when we say that there is much more good in it than bad. All you have to do is look hard enough. And what might seem to be a series of unfortunate events may, in fact, be the first steps of a journey."

-Lemony Snicket and a Series of Unfortunate Events

one after the next.

2011-11-04T16:30:00.000-07:00

It seems like it's just been one thing after the next, this past year.

I'm not sure what God is showing me through Frankie's hospitalization, but I'm waiting.

Because I have to believe that each and every thing happens for a reason and never by chance.

I'm waiting.

Waiting, watching and listening.

Rejoicing in Him always (although it is more difficult at 2:14am, when I'm exhausted and the stupid hospital equipment won't stop beeping).

Beautiful images provided by my lovely sister in law.

Frank n' Beans moves in to Room 222.

2011-11-03T15:00:00.000-07:00

Sooooooooooo.

Frankie is in the hospital.

We decided it was the safest and most effective way to get rid of this darned (would rather use other language) bug.

Who knows why we are here, but we will be residents of room 222B for the next few days.

God has a reason.

For the time being, Frankie is keeping herself occupied with the iv tubes and surgical tape.

And I have a 12-pack of Diet Coke, so I'll be good for at least the next 6 hours.

Thanks for praying friends.

You are close to my heart, especially in times like this.

Thankful on Paper 2011- Week One

2011-11-02T19:35:00.000-07:00

Today is the first week of Thankful on Paper 2011. We had so many people respond last year and tell me how wonderful it was to send out a letter of thanks. It struck a chord with not only the recipient, but the sender. If you want to learn more about this project, please visit HERE and join us!

For Week One, I wrote a letter to a person that is faithful, loyal and always timely on reaching out. This person has been standing next to me for years and challenges me in so many ways. In the end, I am so thankful for not only our friendship, but how she consistently loves me and works hard at reaching out, making time and searching for new ways we can grow closer, as friends. Plus, she makes me laugh. Oh yes. I'm so thankful for her.

And for you? A surprise! What could be lovelier than sending out a letter of thanks on the prettiest of papers? Go here for a download. Made possible by the ever-lovely, Heather.

How about you? Who did you write to (or if you would like to keep it private, write and tell us a reason why you love the person!) this week?

Don't forget to send out your letter today!

Link up and share!

throwin' up the bat signal.

2011-11-01T17:00:00.000-07:00

Update to the Update: The doctor said that it wasn't ready to pop/drain. He said that he didn't think the antibiotics we started her on yesterday worked, so we got a new RX. They recommended we keep her in a warm bath and warm compress a majority of the time and if it looks ready, to pop it. If it still isn't ready to pop tomorrow morning (we have a 9:30am appt) and the doc's can't lance it, they will admit her to the hospital for a surgeon to drain it. We are hoping (obviously) that it doesn't come to that.

Thank you so much for your prayers and if you left a prayer request last night it is being prayed for!

Update: We were unsuccessful at draining the abscess and it has become mighty swollen and painful. Off to the doctor we go, for a 9:30 am appointment. Please pray that they are able to get the abscess with minimum pain (yeah right).
Thank you EVERYONE for your prayers, email and calls.
Love you!

***

(Typing with one hand, so go easy on the "spell-checker" tendancies).

I took Frankie to the doctor tomorrow, after discovering a hard, purple-ish blemish on her

"diaper area" (how to post anatomically correct body parts in a blog post?).

It has been there a few days, but I assumed it was a baby zit.

Turns out she has an abscess and it's going to need to be popped, drained and compressed for the next two days. I looked at the doctor and said, "How the heck did she get that there?!"

She said that, more than likely, Sean or I picked up something at the hospital last week, brought it home and transfered it to her, while changing her diaper. (Apparently babies have tiny cuts on their bodies that can't be seen easily, or at all. They are caused from diaper changes.). She said that it is a 75% chance it's MRSA, but they won't know for sure until they swab the liquid (awesome).

Thanks hospital visit! Thanks leaky eye!

At any rate, she has a high fever and wont be set down anywhere. I don't blame her. It just looks painful and if I go near it, I might as well be poking her with a lit match.

I feel horrible (for her).

Would you please pray?

I appreciate it.

Like always, please leave how I can pray for you.

I'm going to have lots of down time as she won't let me set her down, so I'm sitting a whole lot. I would love to pray for whatever you are dealing with....

Thanks readers!

***

Ps-Write your first letter for THANKFUL ON PAPER, tomorrow!

celebrating gratefulness (3)

2011-10-31T20:30:00.000-07:00

There is so much to be grateful for. So very much.

***

Gross and slimy that turns into a crispy, salty treat:

Kids!:

A sweet, little pumpkin:

Family:

Friends who are family:

Trying new things (like pulling out pumpkin guts):

Being giddy:

Costume creativity:

Pink Hair!:

Friendship:

God has blessed us with so much.

Celebrate gratefulness today.

a look in the mirror.

2011-10-31T08:30:00.000-07:00

Matthew 11:28

"Come to me, all you who are weary and burdened and I will give you rest."

***

I woke up exhausted this morning and not just because I (against my better judgement) over-booked my day yesterday.

I woke up tired because I have allowed myself to become exhausted by EVERYTHING.

I took a look at myself in the mirror this morning and realized I am just one of a million mothers/woman, all over the universe that are allowing ourselves to be run over, by our "obligations".

I'm a victim when I have always stood in such opposition to a busy and cluttered lifestyle.

I looked at my reflection and saw age. I'm o.k. with getting older (not like I have a choice) but I'm not o.k. with looking downtrodden and sucked dry. I looked like that this morning. I look like that and it made me sad. Not because I'm looking to impress the other mommies with my ageless beauty but because I know I have more to offer.

The last 9 months I have been sucked dry. The funniest thing is that I didn't realize until I looked in the mirror this morning. It's like I hopped off a treadmill and it dawned on me that I'd been running a race for the better part of the year that I had NO CLUE I was running in. It's shameful how we can completely deceive ourselves.

I've been made exhausted by letting too much into my mind. Caring too much about circumstantial situations that I have no control over. By spreading myself across too many plains of involvement.

All important but so am I. So is my family. So is my mind and peacefulness and when I choose to do too much (EVEN IF it doesn't seem like too much to someone else), I loose pieces of me and eventually....

I will have nothing.

How can I expect to do anything worthwhile or completely, while exhausted?

We aren't made to feel this way.

YOU aren't made to feel this way.

I've decided that no mom/woman/person should feel obligated to feel exhausted. We shouldn't blame exhaustion on a "stage" in life. It doesn't have to be so. It's wrong.

And I have let it happen.

No more.

Something's gotta give and I'm driving down the freeway of life and chuckin' things out the window.

Sometimes....even though it's hard to decide and let things go, we must.

I must.

To save my heart, mind and sanity.

happy weekend. (What I'll be ignoring)

2011-10-29T09:00:00.000-07:00

This weekend, I'm going to ignore the fact that we accidentally washed my cell phone in a load of jeans.I'm going to ignore the fact that my poor baby has a fever and isn't feeling good and hence, she won't sleep. I'm going to ignore the fact that that means I won't sleep and enjoy rocking her, instead. I'm going to ignore the fact that my daughters eye is still pretty gooey. I'm going to ignore my headache and I'm going to ignore the nagging things in my mind that allow me to resist being fully in the moment.

Fully in the moment with friends and family.

Fully in the moment selling vintage and meeting new people.

Fully in the moment, loving my husband.

Fully in the moment with these two amazing creatures:

Happy Weekend, everyone.

Ignore the nonsense and be in the moment.

the great pop-tart dilemma

2011-10-28T14:00:00.000-07:00

005theevercontoversialpoptart by cazmo

Lately, I have felt (and heard it echoed in conversation with others) that sometimes we aren't exactly sure of what we "want". I'm sure the benefit of age is that you have seen everything and you are more sure about your life choices, but in the stage I am in (and many of you, as well), it's like we are consistently confronted with daily reminders of what we are NOT doing. What things we are NOT a part of. How we are a big, fat failure because we are NOT doing the things that other people are doing.

I have the internet to thank for that (well, and my own distorted perception of what I should be like and my self-created idea of what others are).

And hear me when I say that I love the internet, blogging and social media. You all know this.

I feel, however, like we all fall victim to the POP-TART dilemma.

Basically, we don't know what we really want.

We don't know what we really want because we are receiving input from about 900 different portals, daily. We have the web, FaceBook updates about people's fantastic lives, tweets that tell us about amazing friendships/business growth/how many followers someone has, posts about someone's latest book deal/job promotion/business venture.

Not to mention conversations with friends, the news, group gatherings, play-dates, school functions, church commitments and so on and so on and so on.

It never really stops.

Each of these portals can be just another invitation to think, "I love POP TARTS! I want that persons flavor of POP TARTS! I want their newly designed POP TART business! Why don't I have POP TARTS to enjoy all the time?!! I WANT A MILLION POP-TARTS and I want a POPTART assistant to do all of my work for me!"

Do we ever stop and say, "Wait. Do I even like POP TARTS?"

Think about it.

If you didn't have the constant noise of a million viewpoints, ideas, opinions, posts, pieces of advice or thoughts, wouldn't you really have a more realistic and authentic grasp on what you need to be doing?

I think we get lost in the flurry of urgency. We think that we need to make up our minds to do this and that and "post this" and "jump on board" with that. We need to make choices and be places and do, do, do and maybe....

Maybe we don't.

Maybe if we stopped listening to everything coming in, from every angle, we would really discover that we don't even like POP TARTS.

Imagine the freedom to be the non-POP TART-loving person, that God created you to be.

have ya heard? (LB Vintage)

2011-10-28T08:00:00.000-07:00

I'll be at the Long Beach Flea Market, again this month!

This coming Sunday (the 30th), I'll be perched at my booth, with my friend Amanda, selling our vintage.

Come by, say hello and bring me a diet coke.

Or just come on by and say hello.

You know I would love to meet you!

Even if it had been different. (post-op)

2011-10-27T13:30:00.000-07:00

As I stood over Kensington in post-op and waited for her to wake up, I wondered,

"What if this had all gone wrong?"

It didn't, fortunately, but what if it had?

What if a freak accident had occurred and our daughter had lost her vision? Or worse, what if we had lost our daughter?

I kept questioning and then an answer came.

It came so quietly and simply, that I almost missed it.

Rejoice in the Lord always. Again I will say, rejoice. (Phil 4:4)

No matter what may have happened, what could have gone wrong or what we may have lost...

I will rejoice. And may that always be my hearts calling. To rejoice in the tragic and the beautiful because the tragic can someday turn into the triumphant. For the Lord uses it all. ALL. For His glory.

Today I rejoice that Kensington is happily taking a nap but may I still rejoice, down the road, when something not-so-beautiful occurs.

May I choose to always rejoice in the Lord.

Always, everyday and with everything.

I'm scared; not going to lie. (Surgery, Part Two)

2011-10-27T06:00:00.000-07:00

Kensington heads into surgery, this morning, at 8:30am.

Can you pray for the surgeons, her little heart and our nerves?

I know you will and for that, I love you.

Thankful on Paper 2011

2011-10-26T05:30:00.000-07:00

Last year I introduced Thankful on Paper.

It was created out of a feeling that I can do much more to share my thankfulness, with those around me.

Each year, the holiday season would pass and I would wonder, "Did I tell those around me that I loved them and am grateful for them, enough?"

I realized that there is always a time to share your thankfulness with those around you and what better way to do it than to sit down, grab a fountain pen and write out your true sentiments? And think of the lives it will touch? Few things feel as wonderful as hearing that you are important and treasured by someone else.

I heard from so many of you who participated and you shared that it not only touched other people, but also you. Each story made me so happy.

Here is what I did last year (examples of my weekly posts are here, here, here and here) and intend on doing this year, beginning next week!

*The 4 Wednesdays (beginning on Nov 2nd), leading up to Thanksgiving, I'm going to write one person and tell them I am thankful for them and why. I will send it to them them that day (or drop it off at their house) and hopefully express to them how much I care for them and how grateful I am that they are in my life. I would love you to do the same.

*The 4 Thursdays (beginning on Nov 3rd), leading up to Thanksgiving, I will write a simple blog post about who I wrote to and why. On those Thursdays, I would love for you to join me, write a post on your personal blog and then come link up on each Thursday, here, at No. 17. If the person is someone you would like to keep private, that is also fine. You can opt out that week or write a general post keeping it private, but sharing some sentiment of Thankfulness.

*It's as easy as that!

Please feel free to steal the button that appears on the sidebar (or from above) and add it to your blog, so others can learn about it.

I would love for you to join me.

Will you?

swimming in a sea of many.

2011-10-25T15:00:00.000-07:00

While I was working out, last night, I stopped on a nearby freeway overpass.

In the 3 minutes I stood there, I must have seen several hundred cars drive by. Maybe several thousand.

I was quickly reminded that I am simply a small fish in a very large, very crowded, pond.

That's a good thing.

I have a tendency to look at my problems and focus on the fact that they are out of my control, they scare me, they overwhelm me. I look for answers, I seek truth, I fall prey to worry and I cry.

I become consumed with both the tragic and the terrific moments in my life.

It's my life, after all.

It's worth being consumed with, right?

But when you stand and stare out at the cars passing by, it's very clear that this world isn't about us.

Sure, we are involved, moving pieces and important to those we are surrounded by. Our lives matter to our families and friends but just think....

If we believe what we say we believe, we are here for a flash in the pan, yet we become so consumed with the small details of that blip and we sometimes miss the bigger picture.

We are here to set aside our own lives and serve others. Serve the Lord.

Of course our personal dealings should never go neglected as we have been given a supreme responsibility to care for our families and loved ones.

But as I watched the cars zipping by, I thought, "So little of life is about ME. My needs, wants and desires. In the end, none of those things matter, truthfully."

What matters is that we are aware of the zipping cars around us.

The people that are hurting who surround our homes.

The tragedies that make my hospital visit look, quite honestly, like a party at Disneyland.

The person that is seeking.

The family member that doesn't believe.

The friend that is aching for truth.

Those are the problems worth being consumed with.

Because life is, after all, just a blip on the radar.

And then it's over.

Suddenly those cars have a lot more meaning.

there are those moments.

2011-10-24T06:30:00.000-07:00

I think the hardest part about writing and sharing online is that, inevitably, there will be moments when you just feel "stuck in a moment and you can't get out of it" (thanks Bono).

What is almost as hard, (and also somewhat frightening) is that the recipient of your words might think you are just negative or don't have just cause for feeling that way. You spit out words, hit publish and have no clue how the person on the other end will perceive you.

Once you get over the fear of incorrect perception (and if you're going to get into this blogging thing, you need to get used to it rather quickly) it would seem simple.

However, as accustomed as I have become to people dissecting my words, I'm still not quite used to picking up the computer when I feel "off". I share so much and I write when I'm scared, nervous, happy. It's simple (for me) to throw out a post when there is a "reason" to feel that way, but when there is no concrete situation behind my emotions, when I'm just there and can't move from it.....those are the hardest moments to hit publish.

They make for horrible posts.

There's no end point.

There's no pretty package at the end and no real takeaway from it.

Simply because I have no answer.

I woke up yesterday and then again this morning......sad.

I wish I had a real reason for my uneasiness, but I don't.

I want to blame my melancholy on Kensingtons surgery on Thursday or the fact that Frankie decided to stop breast-feeding (I get that some of you might think this is amazing, but it made my cry). I think I could blame it on changing relationships in my life or maybe a lack of sleep.

But, when I sit on the couch, I shrug my shoulders and just think, "No.....It's not just one of those times. It's all of those things. It's the sum total."

Sometimes the sad sneaks in and I used to shut it down.

Now I let the sad roll over me and to an extent, I let it consume me. I absorb it.

I absorbed it while I sat at dinner last night and almost started crying into my soup. I glanced at my daughter who is turning four in 3 short months and then my eyes scanned to my husband. We met when we were 15 and now he has grey sprinkled through his hair. I became overwhelmed.

I don't know why.

I let it absorb me while I was organizing my 10-month-olds chest of drawers and held her tiny little pants. Going through and separating out all of the 3-6 month outfits was heartbreaking. Heartbreaking to me that she is growing.

Heartbreaking because I miss my other baby.

Heartbreaking, for I know there are so many woman that wish to have children.....and can't.

I let the fear of Kensington's surgery absorb me. I don't want to go to the pediatrician today. I don't want to take her to the hospital and I don't really want to think about "what if this surgery doesn't work, either?"

I let the sadness of getting older and learning about harsh realities, wash over me.

Sadness certainly doesn't own me, but for a time, it has been my nearest companion.

Instead of being who I once was and shutting it off, I let it come in, take up residence and spend some time.

In any case and for what it's worth, I felt I should write it out because there is a chance that one of you might be crying into your babies onesies, too.

We all know it happens, it's just hard to admit.

And it does have an endpoint.

Maybe even when I take my first sip of coffee, this morning.

That's always happy thing.

Winning is fun. (Erin Condren).

2011-10-24T06:00:00.001-07:00

It's YOU, girlfriend.

#32

Congrats!

(and for those of you who didn't win, I hear that Plum District has a GREAT deal today. Hurry!)