It's just me. Again.

Reasonable Requests

2011-12-16T15:08:00.001-05:00

Should we go back in? She's calling.
Your blanket needs to be fixed?
I don't want her to be cold.
Night 1: Open door. Fix. Adjust. Kiss. She sleeps.
Night 2: Repeat. She sleeps.
Night 3. Repeat. She sleeps. Lament. This isn't working for me.
Night 3: "No! Fix them yourself!" * Weeping and gnashing of teeth * She sleeps.
Night 4: Anticipating the inevitable, we say lovely things. "I don't care if your blanket is across the room, I'm not coming in here to fix it." She sleeps.

Should we go back in? She's calling.
You need a glass of water?
I don't want you to get dehydrated. You've been a little sick lately.
Night 1: Bring in glass of water. Kiss. She sleeps.
Night 2: This time she comes out for a glass. Kiss. Tuck her back in. She sleeps.
Night 3: "I don't care if you're thirsty - GO TO SLEEP!"
Night 4: Anticipating the inevitable, we say lovely things. "Unless you're choking and about to die, I don't want to see you or hear you." She sleeps.

Now, we run down a list of threats before bed. "No water, no blankets, we're not turning up the music, we're not giving you one more hug. If we see you or hear you call us, no matter what the reason is ... we're taking away your music. Then we're taking away your night light. Do you understand?"

What seems like the worst parenting ever to you, feels like the worst parenting ever to us. No one likes to deny reasonable requests. Water. Blankets. Soft music. It's all reasonable.

But it's insanity. It's delayed sleep. It's one more reason to see my face and kiss it.

Oh! That is SUCH a reasonable reason! To be kissed and hugged ONE MORE TIME.

And so, for the sake of sanity... I remain the worst parent ever. No more water. No fixed blankies.

Good night, dear child.

Christmas: The Best Songs Ever

2011-12-09T12:14:00.000-05:00

Sentimental. Overwhelming. Fall on your knees ...

Childhood comforts replace adult anxieties. Our troubles will be out of sight ...

Every feeling of "family" swells. You can count on me ...

The electric guitar hugs me. The hopes and fears of all the years ...

Narrates my heart. The weary world rejoices ...

Drums beat. Beat. Beating. I have no gift to bring ...

This is every song ever to be sung about Christmas.

By keyboard or pen - just write

2011-12-07T15:08:00.000-05:00

Speed blogging.

2011-11-10T17:22:00.000-05:00

I know, I know ... it's like we're strangers. I haven't blogged, or videoed, or updated in far too long.
If speed dating gives you a glimpse of someone's life, a brief chance to get to know them, then I think this entry could aptly be considered "speed blogging". Five minutes to learn as much about me as possible.

Ready. Go!

I really miss painting. Once upon a time I had walls. With color. Dark and rich. I'm moving into my 3rd house since marriage and for the first time several rooms are paint-able. There's something quite comforting in a blank canvas, though, and I believe I'll let them be white for a while.

If you're trying to start a small business - you must be crazy. It's agreeing to do more work than you've ever done your entire life only to try and make it possible to work far less than you've ever worked in your entire life. This is a bad plan. And if you're crazy enough to try it, there are people who might call you crazy ... be ok with this.

We are still faithfully juicing our veggies every morning and to date I've lost 25+ lbs since July 15th. Life changes that happen slow and just become part of the norm are very ok with me. (I would never divulge this information to a stranger ... but I feel oddly at ease with you.)

Speaking of strangers, I find that I am the kindest and most forgiving to people I don't even know. While the ones I love the most are snapped at, held to a standard I don't even care for, and the grudges I carry take on the form of the Grinch; I take your stocking and tinsel so you, too, can be miserable. This needs to change.

I don't communicate when I don't know the answer. Or when I don't like the answer. People are getting married, having babies, performing on stage, struggling with illness. The question is "will you come?" and the answer is difficult to accept. I can't. I just can't. I don't want to admit this. Ever. But then I end up ignoring you because I don't want to deal with the hurt of not being able to be there. And that's worse.

I just checked my watch, 5 minutes are almost up. Not sure if I should shake your hand or hug you now ... I'll just smile awkwardly and go.

Call me?

Praying for your Enemies

2011-10-28T12:59:00.001-04:00

I'm sorry? Did you say you don't have any enemies?

I laugh. Sure you do!

If you're like me you first assume an "enemy" is someone who might literally spit in your face. Raise a hand against you. Butt heads in a family-feud and now you don't speak anymore.

But if you will let me - I'd like to suggest that you have many more enemies than that.
Without going to Webster, I would say that an enemy is someone who is against you and against the things important to you. Anyone hindering your goals. Not helping you in your endeavors. I dare say - if they're not for you ... they are indeed against you. Your enemy.
If you must have an official definition, this is for you: A person who is actively opposed or hostile to someone or something.

So. Let's tone down this "spit-in-your-face" mentality and bring the battle field a little closer to home.

Actively opposed. 1. To be in contention or conflict with.

By that definition, your enemy might look something like this:

My goal: Make dinner.
Who's in contention with me? An antsy, hungry 3 year old swirling at my feet, whining, jumping, laughing, "helping" every time I turn around.

Tell me that isn't the truth!

Do you know how many times a day she is actively opposed? How many times she could be considered "an enemy"? We're called to love those that oppose us. Love those that are in contention with us. Pray for them.

But what does my attitude look like when the enemy is a 3 year old?
Frustration. Anger. A snap "Get out of the kitchen!"

But Love says Pray for her.

So - what do I pray? (I know I'm being petty and specific here - but follow me. It ends well.)

I'm pretty sure "praying for enemies" is effective when we're praying FOR THEM. Not against them.

In addition, praying FOR seems different than praying ABOUT. No?

I don't need to pray about my daughter: God help her little size 11's march out of this room. Amen.

No. For her.
Thank you for her. You created her. To swirl and whine and jump and laugh. Thank you for HER goals. Her desires. Help her enjoy life. Teach her patience and love. Give her the desires of her heart. Bless her.

Focusing on her needs immediately turns the focus off my needs. If I let it, prayer will turn my attitude. Toward my enemy. Toward my opposition. Toward the person I am called to love.

And the need to pray for myself.

______________________________________

Grant me the serenity.

______________________________________

Can I get a little more specific?

You know that man you're attracted to? The guy that's married? The one you find yourself talking to on lunch breaks, text messages, and emails? Yeah. His wife is your enemy. If she knew about it, she'd be in direct opposition. And you're called to love her. To pray for her.

What would that prayer sound like? God, thank you for his wife. For her life and her care for this man. I pray that you would keep their family close. Help them grow together, not apart. Give her wisdom, grace, understanding. Giver her the desires of her heart. Bless her.

Praying for her, if you let it, will change your attitude. Toward her.
And the need to pray for yourself.

________________________________________________________________

To accept the things I cannot change.

________________________________________________________________

Praying for your enemy covers the whole shabang - from the idiot who was texting while driving and caused you to be late to work to the person who might literally be trying to steal your job or your spouse -

While this isn't a call to paranoia (enemies are everywhere!) it's a call to prayer. When you feel opposed. When your attitude is wrong. When someone is standing in your way.

I've found praying for my enemies an exercise in my own spiritual, emotional, and social health.

Whether it's a momentary "enemy" or a lifelong one, if you'll turn your thoughts and your heart toward prayer, I'm convinced you'll find it easier to love others and more difficult to hold onto the anger that consumes you.

________________________________________________________________

Courage to change the things I can.

________________________________________________________________

Signs of Aging

2011-10-12T14:10:00.002-04:00

Some days the signs of aging seem much more prominent than they actually are.

Some days I honestly think this is what you see when you look at me.

Know what I mean?

Motherless Children

2011-09-20T12:30:00.001-04:00

I hope you find a way to get through holidays. Anniversaries of life and death. Significant moments.

* Mother's day is a day of thankfulness otherwise I sufficate under the blankets of self-pity and loss. Write to the women who have shared their nurturing heart with you. Be a "mom" to someone else who needs to be held for a moment, someone who needs an unconditional hug. By finding the "mothers" that surround you and looking into your life for those you "mother" you'll find a vast array of women (even if coworkers!) who deserve to be celebrated.

* Christmas, a day to share life with the living. Embrace family and friends that laugh and love. Intentionally surround yourself with them. Make new traditions. Create new memories. Drink a little.

*I have had only two moments since her death that caught me off guard. Flooded with tears.
The first was 6 years after she passed. I realized mid-day that it was the anniversary of her death AND it was the same day of the week as the day she died. For some reason that significance caught me by surprise.

The second was 7 years after she passed. I had a question about office managing and reached for the phone. As if it were completely natural to just give her a call. That was the strangest feeling I'd ever had.

I have been silently counting the years. Looking at the horizon knowing the day would come.

The year I turned 34. I counted. "This is the year she discovered breast cancer."

Today. I counted. "This is the equinox."

image from http://groundshaking.blogspot.com/2010/05/on-turning-18-fear-and-trust.html

18 years with her, 18 years without. Up until now the days with her outnumbered the days without. From here on that changes. And now starts a new counting.

When I turn 43. "This is the year she died."
Every year after. "These are the years she didn't get to live."

You know I don't dwell on her much. But this counting - it's always on my mind. A way to remember. A way to acknowledge that she once lived.

When she died, I didn't have an email address. "Bottled water" was a laughable idea. These scrubbies weren't invented yet.

picture from http://www.thebeautyclutch.com/bath-scrubbie--.html

Stumbling upon some archives comforts me. See. She did live. Proof. (Thank you Altamont Enterprise!)

Whatever you do to get through your days, you're not alone. Count. Remember. Celebrate. Be thankful. Or flat-out cry. I'm with ya.

Slow down

2011-09-14T12:13:00.000-04:00

I push play and close my eyes.

To hear every string, every key.

Your voice is just how I remember.

Music flows to the empty spaces.

Fills the gaps of my thirsty soul.

I am full and undone.

Slowing down.

Aware.

Today, the earth smells like a new book.

Listening to music here: Spotify

Coffee: Falsely accused

2011-09-13T11:04:00.001-04:00

I'm amazed (and shouldn't be!) at the connection between food and the condition of my body.

Don't laugh. I'm naive. I know it.

I'm pretty sure you've heard my story. At the slightest hint that anyone is willing to listen I don't hesitate to tell you about my year from hell and how traditional medicine was killing me.

Let me refresh you:

Stressed to an all-time high, sicker than I'd ever been before, I was back in the dr's office for a 5th antibiotic in a 6 month span. 2003 was a rough year. Constant post nasal drip, an ear infection, chest congestion, sinus junk ... you get the idea. I'd been to the doctor 4 times already and this time he didn't even look at my ears, nose, or throat before writing me another script.

Did you catch that? He DIDN'T EVEN LOOK AT ME. Just got out his handy dandy notebook & pen.

I was done with it. With antibiotics. With him. The whole thing.

Walking into the health food store I was already at the end of my rope and tears were on deck. At the ready. I explained how completely maxed out my emotions were, how I was sporting an infection in every possible location, and how the doctor dismissed me as just another antibiotic prescription.

She gave me advice. *Sound advice. And one week later every symptom I had was gone.

Did you catch that? ONE WEEK LATER.

I had been sick, really sick for 6 months. SIX MONTHS. The doctor had no cure, no reason, no clue what to do for me. Stumped.

..................

Skip forward to the birth of my daughter 4 years later.

Hormones and coffee. I blamed them. A really bad case of B.O. led me to quit coffee for a season, thinking it was an acidic reaction and a blend of whatever new hormones that either increased or decreased since Julia was born. I was taking an internet-educated guess and hoping for the best. The lack of coffee helped a little, but honestly, I just didn't want to give it up forever.

Recently, we decided to start juicing after watching *Fat, Sick, and Nearly Dead. I had nothing but fruits and veggies for 2 weeks straight. I dropped 15 lbs. Thank you, Joe Cross!

Then we watched *Forks over Knives and I decided I was done with meat and dairy altogether. It's not because of love and sympathy for the animals, although I'm aware of the horrific conditions some of those poor guys endure and definitely don't condone it or want to support it. But ultimately I've been convinced that I don't NEED meat and dairy to sustain my life.

And now, almost two weeks without it I am experiencing the joy of a meat and dairy free body. I've lost another 3 lbs and (drum roll please!) I don't stink! I have had insufferable stench for 3 years. Ask my husband. After one week of cutting out meat and dairy I don't even need deodorant. I haven't used it in 5 days!

I sound like a freaking commercial. But this is why I tell you I'm amazed.

Cutting out dairy also has me avoiding cereal. I know I could use almond milk or soy - but I'm pretty sure the processed sugars, flours, and chemicals weren't helping my cause either.

What feels good is that this isn't just a diet. It's not for a few weeks. This is it.

And one more thing - you might want to sit down for this one - I jogged yesterday.

I KNOW!!! RIGHT!!!????

*For info on the candida diet click here.
*Fat, Sick, & Nearly Dead
*Forks Over Knives
We watched both documentaries on Netflix.

One step behind

2011-08-24T14:02:00.000-04:00

1. I don't like to ask for help.
2. Learning interests me.
3. Doing it myself interests me more.

I've taken up basic graphic design lessons. Free, online. Basic. For the sake of my own website. For the sake of other small businesses with a small marketing budget (if any!).

I can make shapes and words. But I don't know the first thing about design. Techniques. Industry standards. Graphic designers seem to have somthing in their genes. Either you have design sense or you don't. I'm not sure it's anything that can be learned.

Music, fashion, art ... I have no idea who's "in" or what's "hot". I'm not at the top of any list. Any field. Any category. I've always been a little behind the times. Behind the leaders. I've spent my life in the middle. Older brother. Me. Younger brother.

I wasn't concerned with being second when it came to passing out cookies. I knew I'd get mine. "Second" wasn't a cause for tears as long as we all received the same amount. And being one step behind never really bothered me either. Not when it comes to crossing a river or facing danger. I'll watch the steps you take and I'll place my foot on the same rock if it's dependable. I'd rather not be first at all.

While on vacation I watched people surfing. It's an impressive sport. Anticipating the wave. Positioning for it's arrival. Riding ahead of it. I admired them from shore. Watching the ocean swell and surfers rush to be in front.

I've never managed to be in front of any wave. No, I'm rushing just to keep a step behind.

I follow, I watch, I absorb, and then I act. Never because I had the idea first. Success is more certain when following someone who's already been successful.

And when it comes to graphic design, The Organic Bird is successful. Funny, though. She, too, wrote about being picked. Not first. Not last. Somewhere in the middle.

My I can relate to this antenna was at full tilt. I love how things I'm feeling are the same things you're feeling ... only different.

Most things I do are simple. Basic. In the middle. Honestly, I'm ok with that. I'm ok with being me. And I'm ok with trying to be more. Learn more. Do more.

Even if I wasn't "first".

My random attempts at graphic design:

Brothers

2011-08-15T10:23:00.001-04:00

I miss brothers.

Biological or fast friends, always the adventurous boys.

Risking their lives to go faster.

So certain of right now that tomorrow isn't even a care or thought.

Willing to get a little closer to danger.

To be first.

Finding a way across the face of the falls just to be there, in the midst of it.
Jumping to the next rock without knowing if it will move.
Pushing their bodies, and their vehicles beyond limits to near breaking.
Pulling me out of my safe, comfortable securities.
Asking for more. Asking me to follow.
Steady hand out-stretched to bring me along.

I can't remember the last time I feared for my life.
Or my heart beat faster than the river's flow.

I miss brothers.

Reminding me of childhood adventures: Curls & Crayfish

90 minutes

2011-07-10T15:40:00.000-04:00

It's not enough. Not nearly enough.

With sunblock still scenting my fingers, I type wildly just to have a moment of my own thoughts. They've left for the pool and a recent back injury keeps me home.

Thankfully. Home.

What do you do with 90 minutes when it's all you might have for another month?
And I only have ONE child. I stand to salute you, mothers of many. I don't know how you do it. Honestly have no idea how you manage!

And as it goes, I may only get 20 minutes. There is no guarantee of solitude when you're a mom. If I've said this before, please just listen again. It's something I've been chewing on;

Jesus was interrupted.

That makes me pause and take a deep breath.
I'm certainly not Jesus - but I'd like to be like him. And if being interrupted is what makes up a day, a life ... then I'd like to do it with more grace. Ya know?

And the phone just rang. Pool is closed.
My 90 minutes just turned into 8 and I've gotta run.
I have a toddler to console.

I'm a mom. It's complicated.

2011-05-20T14:46:00.000-04:00

There are moments I think, will this ever end?

Do you have a toddler too?

In the same draining sigh there are shadows of it already has.

The toys, the books, the loads of laundry still unfolded in wicker baskets: her room only stays organized while she sleeps.

Questions are repeated hourly.
Why did you just pull that off the shelf?
Where are your pants?
Didn't you just eat 3 snacks?

But her laughter. Oh, the laughter.
And she pushes until she gets mine.

I am confused.

Stop being 3 for a minute! Don't ever stop being 3.

This child brings life. Brings me out of my own darkness.
I am forced to look at mess differently.

The shoes, her spaghetti stained cheeks, fresh marker on table legs. Please STOP being 3!

Then I hold her. Legs dangling near my knees. Not much longer, I think. She'll be standing and we will meet eye to eye.

Don't EVER stop being 3!

I am a walking contradiction. And I think she knows.

I purchased this attitude a while ago ... it doesn't fit me anymore.

2011-05-06T16:13:00.001-04:00

I spent the first 30 years of my life trying to claim my independence.

Now I want to give it back.

Perhaps if I were still single, childless, I'd still be trying to make a statement with my "hear me roar!" mentality.

Now I'm just hoping you'll hear me whimper. And come running.

Did this happen to you? Unfortunately I missed out on a lot of great relationships with people during my 20's because I was so busy living life on my own. For my own.

Much like the boy who cried wolf, I cried "Let me do it myself!" and now that I actually need a multitude of people (a "village" if you will!) they're all busy and I have to do this on my own.

But wait! What's that you say?
I'm not alone? You feel the same way?
You're in your house cleaning laundry and dishes and floors just like me?

Well, thank God for Skype, then ... we can be together while we're shouldering this thing called mom and wife and employee and ... human. Yes. I almost forgot. Somewhere in here is a ME!

And somewhere in there is a YOU.

Maybe you don't have time for coffee or a phone call. But I love you just the same.

Let's Skype sometime, eh? I'll try not to be too needy.

Happy endings

2011-04-10T16:27:00.006-04:00

I find myself drifting into mindless puzzles when my brain needs to rest. Or when I simply want to shut it down.

Too many hours are wasted on my hand-held devices playing solitaire and tetris-like games where bubbles or jewels line up and disappear. I escape in a sea of colors and popping sounds as strategically placed diamonds are lined up and cleared.

My husband looks over in the middle of our Saturday night movie and declares that I have a problem. I nod in agreement; I can't beat my high score from yesterday. His comment prompts me to focus on the movie and leave my phone alone.

We don't watch many movies lately. This one is particularly chick-flickish and cute. My eyes well up with tears at the predictable happy ending.

I love happy endings; neatly packaged and wrapped in bubble gum and lollipops. I wish it all ended that way. I don't know anyone who wishes otherwise. But the "otherwise" is where I find most of our stories; narratives we never planned or expected. Yet, here we are - telling the details of a day, week, decade gone wrong and the miraculous outcome that left us survivors.

I survived.

Deep personal loss. Painful tragedy. Misunderstandings that altered the blissful course of my life.

Course. Ha. As if I'm steering.

Last night's happy tears gave way to painful sobs this afternoon as I put down my phone in exchange for recommended reading. I might not have picked it up if I knew the book started with a painful retelling of childhood tragedy. The base of my thumb served as the nearest tissue to rub away the tears and mascara - and this was only the second page.

I can barely handle my own tragedies ... I wasn't ready for yours. Death rips apart the foundation of the soul whether you're four or twenty. The sadness is so basic and common it immediately connects each of us who have felt it's sting yet it is so terribly individual and specific that no one could ever understand our loss.

Perhaps this is why I only watch cheesy movies with predictable endings; life has enough hardship and pain. I don't need 90 minutes of make-believe to rehash the lingering shadows of tragedy in my life.

And I'm hoping pages 3-221 take a quick and drastic turn toward gumdrops and lollipops.

Otherwise it's back to cards and jewels for me.

(I've just begun reading One Thousand Gifts. Have you read it yet?)

I'm online.

2011-04-07T11:32:00.003-04:00

I’ve blogged about my life for the greater part of 8 years and I’ve been stalking you for longer.

If you’ve recently texted me that you have a new boyfriend, you better believe I’ve googled the hell out of his name, hometown, and work place.

Good news: he’s legit.

I feel more socially connected to friends that live 750 miles away than I do my own neighbors.

I use the internet for about 90% of all the information I receive in a day; weather, local events (if you consider a city 50 miles east of me “local”), world news, entertainment, research, education, and celebrity “happenings”.

My friendships are maintained through facebook, twitter, foursquare, and text messages. Rarely do I spend more than an hour a week talking on the phone with my closest friends or family. I might actually see a friend in real life twice a month. Maybe.

I have a Droid cell phone, a Droid tablet, a Windows laptop, a Windows desktop, DirecTV, and a wii. With the exception of sleeping, showering, and eating dinner with my family, I would say that one of those devices is in my control at all times of the day. If I don’t have my phone or tablet in my hand, I’m holding a remote control, the gaming gun, or a mouse.

My poor husband.

All this to say, when I research your company and can’t find information about what you sell, the hours you’re open, or the correct “dot” on the map to find you … I’m bewildered.

It is FREE people. FREE.

Getting your business’ information on the internet is absolutely, 100% free.

And when I walk into your business, after researching your company, to offer you my 8 years of stalking expertise and suggest that you make yourself more widely known and you say, “No, we don’t want to be on the internet. Our business is more of a hobby.” Then you, my unwebbed friend, have just successfully blown my mind.

When I reiterate that I want to offer this service for free, no strings attached, and you say “I’m just not ready for that yet. I’m a new business and I don’t think I could handle the publicity.” You have just won the award for the most asinine thing I’ve ever heard.

I’ve set out to help people find you. Choose you.

And you say no?

I'm obviously missing something.

Back to the drawing board.

Here's where I'm business blogging ...
http://www.shelbyknown.com/

Update: Messy Kids

2011-03-28T11:07:00.001-04:00

Update: I found a post from July 2009 of similar content: http://4jacqs.blogspot.com/2009_07_01_archive.html ... reminding myself again to let her be messy!

Original post:
I stumbled upon this while searching for proof that a messy child makes a happy home.
Messy Kids: Remote Control Art#links

Love it!

I received a text from my husband this morning regarding certain crayola markers used by a certain toddler for random body art.

He threw them out.

While disobedience was most likely the issue, there's something I want to impart about art ... a mess is best!

In my opinion.

Currently, I'm on a mission to reform his thinking .... any thoughts or ideas to help my "we don't use them for that" husband?

(Not) Giving blood

2011-03-01T21:44:00.000-05:00

I want to be good. My childhood days were plagued with the pursuit of being good. Praise and adoration were high on my "things to get" list. Christmas presents? Nah. Just tell me how great I am. Smile and pat my head even. Thanks.

However, you can't be "good" all the time. Trust me. I know. The problem with trying is you get caught in a cycle. Making one person happy leads to making more people happy. I end up being a proverbial affirmation-whore; you don't care who it comes from and you want it all the time. Days are spent in a fury of activity to solicit positive attention. Because of this my 7th grade year was a nightmare. If you have ever read You Are Special I should tell you - Max Lucado wrote it about me.

Now let's fast forward 23 years (I can't believe I just admitted that) to this past Friday when I agreed, out of a genuine desire to see an old friend, to attend a blood drive she organized.

I'm sorry, I forgot to tell you. I don't like needles. Blood I don't mind. But needles? Searching for my vein? Not so much. But I was willing to endure the pinch, the sting, and the prodding for several reasons:

1. See my friend
2. Help her out
3. Do "good"
4. Get a pat on the head

Funny thing about intentions though; unless you actually ACT on them they stay forever immortalized as intentions.

After arriving at the blood drive I quickly discovered that you weren't getting in the door without signing your ~~life~~ blood away. Forced to put my name on the waiting list, I was given a number like a shopper at the deli counter. 48. I looked over to see 34 impatiently tapping her toes. Unfortunately I only had a 20 minute window of time. I didn't realize blood drives would be so popular!

So I did what anyone would have done ... pretended to wait. I mingled, chatted with a few people (including my friend), ate a cookie, munched on some popcorn, drank some juice, and quietly walked out the back door when no one was looking.

That's right. I'm a blood-drive crasher.

In summary:
1. I saw my friend
2. Helped myself out
3. Did "bad"
4. Got a few horns on my head

Is this what I've become? Incapable of carving out time? Unwilling to give a few drops of blood?

Apparently.

And this theme is familiar these last few weeks. Deep in the midst of a project, the slightest interruption sends me reeling in frustration. Snapping at the person who dare speak to me! Those moments don't slip by unnoticed. Not by me and I'm sure not by him (sorry hubby). And certainly not by the One who created me to be in relationship with people, neighbors, co-workers, FAMILY.

I was reminded tonight that Jesus was interrupted. A lot.

So I'm praying for patience. For the ability to hold my sharp glances and short temper and acknowledge that YOU are more important than paperwork, plans, and projects. I'd like the "good" I do to please God. Everyone else can go to

the blood drive.

My words are ...

2011-02-15T12:12:00.000-05:00

Imitated: My daughter's language has progressed from sounds to single syllable words, from words to comments, and lately her comments have turned into conversations. I can tell she understands a bit more of our adult life as she desperately tries to have lengthy conversations with me. Unfortunately she runs out of things to say before she stops speaking so the last few minutes is made-up jibberish while she imitates hands motions, facial expression, and a "this is important" tone.

And it has me wondering... do I do that too?

Unnecessary: I'm sure I speak more than I need to ... more than I should. I get reminders from my 3 year old when my tone changes during a heated discussion with Thom. "Be careful, Mom!" she yells from the other room. "Be gentle with each other!" she warns. I'm thankful for her innocent interjections.

Precise: The benefit of Twitter is that it really makes you minimalize your thoughts and pinpoint what you want to communicate. I often think about taming my tongue ... tweeting has taught me that it is possible to say less more clearly. Now to apply that to my tongue and not just the keyboard. It really starts with taming my thoughts. I want to speak truth and life into my family and others but saying more isn't better. I need to listen more ... inside my head is a soft voice that says, "Be careful, Jacqui, be gentle with others."

Lights out: In defense of Christina

2011-02-06T23:34:00.001-05:00

By the light of my cell phone I bring you a small glimpse of a mid-thirties crisis. This is the 7th video in a series titled "Lights Out" featuring a sleepy, mascara-smeared, greasy-haired, pajama-wearing me during the last awake moments of my day.

To start at the beginning, visit my YouTube channel: justjacqs

Immobilizing Anxiety

2011-02-01T04:19:00.000-05:00

"I need to talk to you later."

I'm amazed that words can paralyze me, produce fear that seeps out of my heart uncontrollably, and render me useless. It doesn't happen often. But each time it does I'm thoroughly stunned and tend to react like a trapped animal; first I play dead then I freak out.

So there I was on Sunday ... paralyzed. As I worked through my mid-morning mummified state I did what I always do and over-analyzed every detail as obsessively as possible. I quickly ruled out the words themselves as the culprit. They were just seven words ... in and of themselves they were not at all damaging.

No, those words didn't pierce my heart. It was the brief arm touch, quick exchange, and lack of smile on the sayers face that did most of the damage. Expression and tone are crucial. If there was a smile associated with those words I wouldn't even be here discussing this with you. Unfortunately the expression and tone used were on my "do not fly" list and I immediately went into crisis mode. You know that feeling ... heart beats as fast and as loud as a jet engine, tongue swells instantly causing you to resort to grunting instead of speaking ... I began asking myself all the emergency-related questions ... where is the nearest exit?

The next 45 minutes were a complete blur. It took all my energy to stay in my seat. I frantically tried to find a happy place. The pen and paper in hand became my immediate focus (thankfully it seemed appropriate to be "taking notes") and I quickly made a list of all the situations in my life that led me to feel trapped by those few words. As I furiously penned my thoughts I fought to suppress the nausea and tears. "I need to talk to you later" released the Wounds of my Past like hounds out of hell ... and they were coming back to make me pay restitution for all the time they'd spent in Repression.

My well-thought-out, detailed list looked something like this:

The person who said that thing and completely offended me
The individual who accused me of doing that and not doing this and it was all just a big misunderstanding

(end of list)

Uh, yup. That was it. Two things.

Certainly there were more ... no? No. Strange.

I quickly jotted down all the times I was summoned to a conversation where the outcome was positive. It was a much longer list. Yet two negative events somehow overshadowed a dozen positive situations where concern, advice, and constructive criticism were displayed with love.

As the crippling fear slowly departed I decided that "I need to talk to you later." probably wasn't meant to destroy me. With the evidence in my notebook, I took several deep breaths and gave myself a detailed pep talk and rehearsed all the ways I could respond should this future conversation turn sour. It was quite motivating.

Turns out ... he just wanted to know if I'd be part of a new church committee.

I said "sure".

I hate when that happens.

Mid 30's Crisis

2011-01-19T23:27:00.004-05:00

I've spent my entire life living by rules set by someone other than me. I've decided it's my turn to make the rules. And in honor of such a bold step on my part I begin with throwing out the rules.

I have begun a video series titled "Lights Out" featuring a sleepy, mascara smeared, greasy haired, pajama wearing me. I'm praying to God this goes well.

Tonight's episode of "Lights Out" is in 2 parts. An introduction: part 1 and An explanation: part 2

So let's begin ... shall we?

Scattered

2011-01-07T08:49:00.002-05:00

There are a gazillion pieces. Here. There. Under the couch cushion. And just as I start to gather them, I trip over one and the chosen few that were neatly tucked in my arms are now strewn about the room again.

Of course, I'm refering to my thoughts. Well... maybe I'm refering to my plans. Then again - it's quite literally all the toddler toys we've acquired since Dec. 25th. And in the most figurative sense it's my brain in general.

And there you have it. Scattered figuratively, literally, and even in being scattered, I'm scattered.

If this doesn't make much sense to you - I say, "PRECISELY!"

There are many things I'm lacking right now. Patience is a given. Focus is next on the list. Followed by wisdom.

I firmly believe that wisdom is something God-given, acquired, retained, and exercised. And if wisdom is exercised then I'm certain I've lost my membership to that gym since I haven't been there in quite some time.

Or any gym for that matter.

I appreciated this blog entry by a dear friend about how resolutions are stupid without God. (Except she says that much more eloquently!) I could resolve to fix all the things I criticize myself for; not playing the guitar enough, not playing with my family enough, not serving others enough ... but I, Jacqui, can only do so much. Of this I'm certain: this year won't look, feel, or act like any other. I can't compare years past with the year coming because this is not the past. This is a new day. With new solutions. New steps. New outcomes.

I'm praying for wisdom and focus and patience. With myself as much as with others. And right now, with all these scattered pieces, I don't know where to begin let alone move forward.

You know what it feels like? Like trying to row a sailboat against the wind. That's exactly what it feels like. I've been doing this for 7 months. You'd think I would have tucked the oars in by now.

*deep breath*

Officially sailing with the wind. No more rowing. Not even going to put my toes in the water.

So there's a resolution for you. I'm not going to row.

(Until the next time I feel like the ship is heading in the "wrong direction" and I determine to steer it elsewhere. How quickly we forget life's lessons, eh?)

Silent

2010-12-30T22:16:00.002-05:00

I got nothin.

There were several things I wanted to share, but now that the mic is in my hand I've lost the nerve. I'm pretty sure I'm looking out at a group of people that already know, have already heard, or don't really care. In any case ... silence seems like the best option. What's the saying? Better to keep my mouth shut and be considered a fool than to open it and remove all doubt. .... yeah ... something like that.

35 months old

2010-12-10T15:35:00.004-05:00

Julia sings "True Colors" at the top of her lungs. And she's actually starting to be in tune on most notes. This is music to her musical momma's ears. I was worried she'd never get it.

And she dances! I tried to share a video of her shaking it to the popcorn song (Thom's favorite) but apparently it was fringing on the owner's rights so I deleted it from youtube .... but last night we put "True Colors" on repeat while Thom was shopping. She twirled and chopped and kicked in true Elaine style for an entire hour!

We're (constantly) in a growing season ... she's currently in the 95th percentile for height and weight. She wakes with leg pains (we still debate whether they're real or not), she eats everything in sight (and there are only healthy foods in sight) and she towers over children her age at the playground.

She's a bit aggressive as well. I guess being my daughter and all ..... Poor Carson. He's the little boy at playgroup that keeps her attention. He has to ask Thom to tell her to stop chasing him. Yup. She's my daughter.

I've figured out a good hair routine and we've been without shampoo for over a year now. We're very pleased with the results.

Her interest in tv shows is way too high and I try to curb her appetite for them every chance I get. Tonight I'm setting up the sewing machine in her room to encourage her to play while I keep my hands and eyes busy on Christmas presents.

We love our little Ju-la-la.

Some day

2010-12-03T12:23:00.001-05:00

I love this girl.

2010-11-26T17:28:00.002-05:00

My almost-3-year-old talks and looks bigger than she is.

She says things like,"How was your day Mom?" and "Of course you can!" So many things that I want to remember and retell her. So many things I don't write down and wish I did.

We went out to a few shops this afternoon and she was so busy watching other people she ran into a brick wall. Her forehead has the mark to show it!

"The sunshine is Lento, Mom" She says this at 6:15am as she opens the door to our bedroom. She pushes me over and continues "The sunshine is slow."

Yes, dear. It's slow. Why her internal clock is set to wake before 6:30am is beyond me. I tried to convince her to stay in bed until the sun has ACTUALLY risen. That lasted about 15 minutes. She bounced into bed with me proclaiming "The sun is up! Wake up everyone!"

She is quite the ray of sunshine herself. Always dancing, singing, laughing, smiling. Well. That, and she's always asking for a snack.

I just wanted to get a few things jotted down. And these adorable pictures. She's just too irresistible!

Troubles melt like lemon drops ...

2010-11-24T10:39:00.001-05:00

Writing my way through ...

2010-11-23T11:06:00.013-05:00

If twitter can use 140 characters, I certainly can get my thoughts down in an 8.5 x 11 space.

Here's my challenge to you: within the confines of a sheet of paper (8.5 x 11) write down your thoughts. It's that simple. Leave your keyboard for a moment, pick up the closest pen or pencil and actually write down all that swirling confusion/joy/pain/excitement. Nothing perfect is expected. Crossed out words are welcome. It's all about the flow from your brain through your fingers in all it's curves and quotes ... you'll feel better. I know I do.

Listen here to the NPR broadcast called Doodle Your Way Out of Writer's Block. (FYI: They get into handwriting more than doodling around 13 minutes in.)

Fruit overhaul: The lemon saga. Part I

2010-10-30T22:23:00.006-04:00

We enjoy fresh food and occasionally buy more produce than we can actually eat in a week. Bananas are never on that list, however. No matter how many we buy we always seem to need more. It happens like this: I'm walking in the produce section with the wobbly cart that keeps veering left ... I've got my list, I'm checking it twice when I see the big sign that says "these are yummy and you should buy two!". So I do (because who wants to fight the sign?) and before we know it a week has gone by and we haven't even touched the yummy two-fers.

Sadly, we've thrown away more produce than I'd like to list. You'd think we had a slew of pigs out back and were insistent they eat organic and what's "in season". Inevitably something goes bad before we get around to preparing/using it in a meal or for whatever it was intended. I guess this is where meal planning would come in handy.

This morning when I realized the bag of lemons we bought well over a week ago was still loitering on the kitchen table I decided to tackle the job of making lemonade. Because, you know ... when life gives you lemons ....

Not only did I have a large amount of juice and pulp, I now had a dozen bright yellow lemon peels with which to tease Martha Stewart. I was certain I would find a gazillion recipes and craft projects on the newest, coolest Martha thing to do with the zesty rinds ... but no! Just some candied treats and the smallest measuring spoon added to your baking. I was in need of a serious lemon solution.

"Why?" You ask. "Because you can't just throw them away! I'm sure they can be used for something!" the hoarder replies.

Yup. I totally get that show. Every single thing CAN be used for something. But ... uh ... I'm in recovery. So ...

So I went off the grid. Running my own show. Crafting like nobody has flickred/blogged/how-to'd before! I'm hoping these last til Christmas but from the research I've done I'm guessing Thanksgiving and then they'll be ready for the swines.

And I'm selling them, too. It's my million dollar idea. Seriously. I was thinking of just hanging them in the doorway but you can hang them on your curtain rod. Only I'd need to make the sign that says "They're yummy. You should buy two."

Hit me up if you'd like to order some for the ~~pigs~~ Holidays.

On your mark, get set ....

2010-10-04T12:33:00.004-04:00

Frantic.

This feeling is linked to just about every season of my life. The questions that tumble, the path I think I should be walking on, the choices that I wish I hadn't made, and the hurried beat of my heart as I race through the should-haves, what-ifs, and the I-just-wish-I-knew's.

I'm ready to do this differently.

There's this feeling that I don't really belong here. In this space. And I humbly walk around with my head down as if I'm borrowing your spot for a minute and will be out of your way as quick as possible.

But it also resides with this feeling that if I were truly myself.... like ... REALLY myself ... I would be so loud and obnoxious that all my friends would disappear.

But what's funny is while I'm terrified to have fun and be the Crazy I know I am, I absolutely LOVE being around the Crazy I know you are. One of my best friends recently did a "birthday dance" for me ... just this silly little 3 second jig ... and it was probably the best gift I got that day.

I'm starting to see the Frantic and it's begun a journey that I hope will last a lifetime. Because I'd like to do a birthday dance for you someday and not give a shit about what anyone thinks.

I see the marathon in my mind - athletes at the starting line, paused, waiting for the gun shot. I feel like I'm a few yards behind just starting to stretch.

I'm getting ready to live my life. Just give me a few minutes.

I need a reminder!

2010-09-18T15:03:00.005-04:00

I have several email addresses including a work account that sends me daily emails regarding the tasks on my calendar. As I've gotten older and added "mom" to the list of hats I wear, I've found that if I don't write things down I won't remember. Sadly, if I do write it down I'll most likely forget. Thank God for email reminders that are sent for each task I save in my google calendar. Otherwise I probably wouldn't remember the baby shower, the lunch meeting, or the monthly report at work. Oddly enough, I just received an email reminder from my work calendar. It simply stated this:

Reminder: Vacation.

I thought for a brief second about signing in to delete the reminder .... what a nuisance to be reminded daily of the obvious ... but then again .... being reminded every day to BE on vacation might actually be helpful.

You see, we're not going anywhere. Sleeping in. Sipping coffee until it's lunch time. Wearing my comfy clothes that I wouldn't dare leave the house in. BLISS. We have many plans. Lots of thoughts. I want to take advantage of every moment ... be it productivity or intentional laziness ... I will take advantage of EVERY moment.

What do you do when YOU "staycation"?

What I didn't learn from my mother

2010-09-15T13:01:00.002-04:00

I am learning.

I am striving.

To be more like Him.

I am desperate to be more like Him. The alternative? Be more like my mother.

I was asked to share a story or two about her on Mother's day many years ago. The request caught me off guard and left me speechless. It wasn't the 300 member congregation that deterred me. It was that fact that I couldn't think of a SINGLE good thing to say. Nothing honoring to utter. We had good times and I certainly had good memories but for many years all I could feel and focus on were the negative, harsh, and hurtful things. So I did what I always do when I have something heavy to work through: I sat down with a trusty pen and blank sheet of paper. I was determined to write something positive.

I sat for a while thinking about the things I hated. I was angry and determined to not be like her. And I realized: The things I didn't learn FROM her, I learned BECAUSE of her.

There were plenty of things I learned by her good example. From her I learned to problem-solve, organize, and manage an office. From her I learned to sing and worship and play the guitar. From her I learned to be hospitable and to serve. These are things she was and the things she did. If you knew her you probably just nodded as you read the list. She was good at them.

But the woman who had cancer for half my life wasn't always so pleasant, full of song or service. And so because of her I am learning to be self-controlled and slow to anger. Because of her I am learning to be kind to my family. Because of her I am learning to love unconditionally. These are the things she was not and did not. And I pray that I can honor her in this learning too.

Next Monday marks the anniversary of life without her. And next year will be a significant equinox in my life. 18 years with her, 18 years without.

I'm thankful for both. Lord knows I needed a momma. But my journal entry on January 1, 1993 was about what I wanted out of that year. I was heartfelt and sincere when I wrote "I want to be more like God and less like my mother." I had no idea that just 9 months later He would remove her from my life.

"In the year [my mother] died, I saw the Lord." Isaiah 6:1

I pray for my own daughter. That she'll learn FROM me and BECAUSE of me. I'm not so naive to think that just because I'm "better than my mother" that I'm any better than my mother. I am still learning, still trying to become more like Jesus, and still stumbling. Just like she did. And I pray that my daughter will one day "see the Lord" and find herself writing about all the things she didn't learn from me with a trusty pen and blank sheet of paper.

Tears in my taters.

2010-07-21T10:11:00.005-04:00

Eating dinner for our family is always a sit-down-at-the-table affair. Julia stands on her tip-toes to reach the silverware drawer and spreads the utensils around to our respective spots, we all share a cup of water (mostly out of laziness - one cup is easier to pour than three!), and dinner is devoured. Dishes are left on the counter, half scraped and forgotten until the next day.

A few Saturdays ago we spent the day at home instead of traveling to nearby cities, parks, or doing our usual thrift store shopping. Things had gone so smoothly at home that we actually sat down to eat at a decent hour. We even used napkins. Nothing out of the ordinary graced our plates when my fork lifted the creamy mashed potatoes to my mouth but it was suddenly met by tears streaming down my face.

"Are you crying?" He asked. *sniff* As soon as I start to cry my nose gives it away. It's a tell-tale sign that I'm about to lose it.

"What's wrong?" He persisted. And the answer was Nothing! Nothing is wrong - for the first time in a long time I felt at peace. "Today was just so easy," I whimpered.

But admitting that was to admit the opposite - the other days had been so hard.

Quite honestly, I didn't even realize how hard it was - but - it really wasn't. It isn't. Some days just feel more difficult. Like walking through peanut butter. Too much energy required to get from here to there. And I was experiencing several "peanut butter" days all bunched together. More than several - many.

So here was this oasis of a day - like a glass of milk washing the pasty ground peanuts out of my mouth - it was refreshing! I didn't have any worries, there was no bickering, obedience and kindness were abundant in my toddler - and it was just SO nice to have a good day sneak up on me and say "boo!"

So that's why there were tears in my taters.

And you'll be happy to hear - we're drinking more milk these days. (More on that soon.)

Anyone have an oreo??

Refreshing in more ways than one

2010-03-24T11:41:00.008-04:00

So I have a pit problem. You know the kind that you're SURE everyone else is aware of, except, they're probably not. Because on any given day if you stand a little closer, you'll probably notice. And back away. Nobody likes stinky pits. Well - except for our cat. She's weird. But on a normal day with normal deodorant wear, I tend to have stinky pits. Stinkier than most.

So then there's today. Normal getting-ready activity at home, normal leaving-for-work-goodbye's, and normal doing-my-job things when suddenly I get a wiff of something rotten. Ew. Must be this new shirt, I think. But a few minutes later it seems stronger and out of curiosity I stick my hand under my shirt and give my left armpit a white glove test expecting to feel fresh creamy deodorant but it's dry as a bone. And it's only 11am - I'm in big trouble.

I search my purse for my usual back-up stash of deodorant only to remember that I changed purses. I have every other necessity; Band aide. Tide-to-go pen. Gum. No Degree. No Dove. No Secret. No Sure.

I'm screwed.

I quickly look around the office to see what might possibly help me and grab the salt shaker and head back to the bathroom. Salt kills bacteria, doesn't it? Kind of? So I wet a paper towel, dash a generous portion of salt on it and wipe. I give the paper towel a sniff and nearly pass out. Phew. I don't think this will work. I search the break room and consider the things I find: yogurt? Probably not. Might make it worse. Soda? Eh, too sticky. Tea bags? Hmm. Might just work!

Eyeing two bags of Peppermint Herb Tea I notice the tag line, "refreshing blend with the cool taste of peppermint". Yes. This is what I need! The cool SMELL of peppermint. I open the first bag and place it in the center of my armpit and wrap the string around my bra strap so it won't accidentally fall to the ground while I'm handing papers to my boss. Ah! After securing the second tea bag I notice I am feeling the "refreshing blend". My armpits are now cool and tingly - never before has a deodorant done THIS for me! All natural. Herbal. No chemicals. Cool. Pepperminty. Tingly. I love it!!!

I may have just started a new trend!

Who new Bigelow was more than just a tea?

En era of learning

2010-02-28T15:47:00.004-05:00

~"No thank you", she says as I offer my assistance in pouring a bowl of cereal. Today she has decided she can do it herself. I don't balk when it dumps out of the bag to the immediate left of her bowl. I chuckle and say "that's ok" while lowering the bowl to the table and scooping the cereal in. She is earnestly trying to accomplish big tasks and I am very aware of the danger involved if I intervene at every turn. The "danger" is this child may never learn to be an adult if mommy always comes to the rescue, or comes to do it "right". These childhood problems are ones I want her to solve. It sets her up for bigger things as she grows.

~ I am in the kitchen when I hear a thunk followed by a clunk. Tilting my head toward the living room I see two shoes on the window sill and magazine rack. From my quick assessment I deduct that she has thrown them at Girlfriend, our cat. "Oh, NO!" I say. "Girlfriend is part of our family, Julia! We take care of our family. We don't throw shoes at her!" She cries because she knows the consequence and my intolerance for bullying the cat! I laughed a little when it was all over - chucking shoes at the cat. New one!

~ She has an increasing appetite for things other than the food I offer. When I drive past Chick-Fil-A she points and says "Let's go this way!" When it's snack time she suggests, "How 'bout some candy?" We passed by Wendy's and she rattled off a list of items she would order. "Fries, chicken, samich, fries, chicken" she says.

~ I opted not to buy the cute little converse shoes that tie. Her footwear has been maintenance free and I enjoy sending her to put them on. She's successful without my help since all her shoes are slip ons and velcros. I imagine her confidence it built as tasks get added to her list of things she can accomplish.

~She doesn't like when I vacuum so I offer her an out by suggesting "book time" in her crib. I feel the same way about dinner, guests, and any activity that we're doing that she is choosing not to be a part of, or feels nervous about. She is welcome to go to her room and take some time to herself. She cheerfully chooses book time over a dinner guest that she's uncomfortable with. Today I thought she would enjoy playing in her room while I vacuum and not just with books in her crib. As soon I said goodbye and shut her door she began to cry, "Book time! Book time!" It proved to me that routine is so important and her crib represents a safe, quiet space for her. I was a little shocked that she wouldn't want to have the entire room to herself but happy to learn that my girl needs me to continue to provide the safety and consistency of every day tasks.

~ She NEEDS rest. She REQUIRES consistency. She FLOURISHES with boundaries. I am confident of this.

And we're both learning a lot about her world.

Color coordinating and problem solving

2010-01-18T09:03:00.004-05:00

I was reading over at Simple Mom about her goal to be "paperless" and thought I'd share a part of my "paperless kitchen" with you. Mind you, my house isn't paper-none. Just paper-less.

When Julia was born we tried to use the conventional burp cloths and bibs we received but I quickly found that our drawer was full of cloth that looked pretty but sucked at actually doing it's job. Most of the cute cloth we had was polyester based. Why did they even manufacture it in the first place? The purpose of the small towel on my shoulder seemed to be for show. Slightly curdled milk chunks just ran down the towel like rain on a window. It didn't stop until it hit the floor. I was totally irritated!

On our next trip to Stuff*Mart I picked up a mulit-colored pack of cheap wash cloths and immediately separated them into categories. NOTHING soaks up spit like cotton!

The white and yellow ones were for the kitchen, wiping faces, cleaning food off tables, etc.
The pink and purple ones went straight to the diaper changing table and were to be used as drying towels for Julia's bottom. I never liked putting a diaper on a freshly wet-wiped butt without drying her little cheeks off first.
The blue and green ones went to the bathroom for typical wash cloth use there.

And it has been wonderful! Over the past two years the white and yellow ones have become stained and dingy so the old white & yellows are now under the sink with our cleaning supplies. I replaced them with a full pack of white ones and we go through them so quickly in a day! They're obviously new with their fluffiness and brightness so it's easy to keep them separated from the old ones.

Don't be afraid to problem solve in your house. Not just with wash cloths ... look around. What isn't working? Can it be fixed some other way? Don't think of the things that are MARKETED to us ... think of the things that could actually be helpful!

Dust You Are. Gen 3:19

2010-01-05T10:22:00.005-05:00

I watched the wind pick up a mound of dirt and carry it across a field just now. The dirt didn't have plans of moving, I'm sure. The wind just came and moved it. Wherever it settles it will still have the same properties, same abilities ... to be a nurturing place for life. Isn't that what dirt does? I think this is what I want to be said of me ... that wherever I am, I nurture life.

Except if it blows in your eye ... that's not very nurturing.

I don't feel particularly nurturing myself. Except in ways I must be with a child. A dropped pacifier, a missing bunny ... I patiently look under beds and cushions until it is found. I've found a way to be loving in many situations but there are still SO many times that I am not.

Having a family is like buying a spotlight and shining it on your heart. All the good and all the bad is revealed. My husband sees and experiences ALL of me. My daughter is an innocent bystander. I owe them deep apologies for the rest of their lives! :-P

This isn't necessarily related but ... one of my quirks that they must deal with ... is my need for an I.C.E. plan.

In Case of an Emergency ....

FIRE! I don't want Julia to ignore the sound of the smoke alarm. I want her (at 2 years old!) to know what to do if she hears that sound. She isn't able to judge for herself if there is truly an emergency so we pretend that each situation is one. Every time the burnt toast or overflowing oatmeal makes the smoke detector shreak we immediately leave the house until daddy says it's all clear. Thom rolls his eyes and prefers to leave the battery out altogether.

CHOKING! I don't know if she knows what "choking" is, but 2 things I've done to help her ...
1. We have a money jar with a narrow neck so she can put pennies in but can't get any out. Since she was old enough to pick one up I've showed her what we do with money ... drop it in the jar. While it hasn't stopped her from putting a few nickels in her mouth, she at least has the knowledge of where they DO belong.
2. When she swallows wrong and coughs I tell her "if you're choking you need to come find me and I can help you." The other day she was eating crackers and started coughing. With teary eyes and red cheaks she ran over to me ... so thankful! When she chokes for real I won't be able to hear her and it terrifies me.

I know I can't protect her from everything. I can't shield her from all of life's woes. But at least I can make things a little safer at home.

I want to be good soil for her to grow in. Someday my "pot" will be too small for her stretching limbs and she'll be replanted somewhere else.

Psalm 1 (with Julia specific changes!)
How blessed is the girl who does not walk in the counsel of the wicked, nor stand in the path of sinners, nor sit in the seat of scoffers! But her delight is in the law of the Lord, and in His law she meditates day and night. She will be like a tree firmly planted by streams of water, which yields its fruit in its season and its leaf does not wither; and in whatever she does, she prospers.

Enjoying a few things ....

2009-12-02T20:51:00.003-05:00

We love the park that sits a 1/4 mile away. Julia has given up the stroller and heads straight for the playground whenever we go for a walk. Thankfully we're the only ones who seem to visit here ... she insists on sitting in each of the three swings. I fear her reaction if the other swings were occupied when she was ready to switch!

We enjoyed a brief visit from Julia's favorite people. Somehow I didn't take many pictures ... we'll just have to plan a trip to Missouri soon to make up for it!

What I'm reading.

2009-10-03T15:12:00.001-04:00

I keep several magazines within reach. My nightstand overflows with books I want to read, magazines I can't get enough of, and devotional books that lead me to Peace.

Craft is one of my favorites as of late. We talk often about a hand-made Christmas. Candles, soap, felt ornaments, gingerbread mobiles, and festive decorations without all the hub-bub ... cozy nights spent at home creating and re-purposing. I peruse the aisles at book stores for ideas about how we can put our hands and time to use this fall.

Mother Earth News. We recently picked up a copy of this with a gift card I received and found an easy, yummy bread recipe we love. Thom was the initiator and baker ... I'm so blessed!

I've never been much of a reader. I don't know why exactly but at some point in 5th grade I gave up reading. I faked my way through book reports and shrugged at reading assignments. Even in college I dreaded the hours my eyes were assigned to read each night. Sure I was passing my courses but I wasn't really learning. I decided I wasting my time and money by continuing. I even told a WHOPPER of a lie in Bible College in order to pass a class. It was a yes or no question on our final and I really didn't want to fail.

The shame!

Is it a short attention span? Perhaps I can find a scientific study to defend my inability to sit through an entire book. Or is it merely a defiant attention span? Regardless, it is the same reason I never play Monopoly ... it just takes too long!

Surprisingly there are a lot of books I've started reading over the years and actually finished. And while my college years would say otherwise, I do like to learn. Apparently I have a problem with being TOLD to learn.

Matter of fact, I don't like being told anything.

Pride. Competitive spirit. Perfectionism. These characteristics don't bode well with "humble servant". The Book that intertwines all the threads in my life cautions me against such things. So I've been praying lately for change. My personality, my reactions, my base line .... I am in need of an overhaul!

In fact, so is my house! I am desperate for COLOR on my walls and a magic eraser for the clutter. We plan to move in the spring but I don't know if I can wait that long. The fake wood paneling is caving in and I spin in and out of depression depending on the number of piles that accumulate on every surface!

.... oh, how did I get here? I meant to talk about Christmas crafts and now I'm spilling my guts about my character flaws. This is why a box of tissues sits on top of the books and magazines on my nightstand.... As my brother once said, "You have more issues than the National Geographic!"

I always liked those magazines.

The handy-dandy stalker-net

2009-09-22T12:18:00.005-04:00

Thom says I'm a stalker. He can't remember giving me his email address and I admit, I don't think he did. A few years had passed since our dating days in '98 and I was curious where he was and what he was up to. So sometime in 1999 or 2000 I looked him up and sent him a brief email. "What's up? Remember me?" And then for the next 6 or 7 years we exchanged an annual email with simple details and quick hellos.

I can't help it if he fell in love with me in early 2007.

Ok, ok ... so he insists that I stalked him WELL before those emails. One random day in Schenectady, NY I stopped to fill up my tank on my way to work and exchanged a flirtatious hello with the man behind the counter. I was all smiles the rest of the day! And, well ... he worked in a public place so I stopped by ... a lot. I don't exactly call that stalking! Just ... admiring? If I had followed him home or found out the name of his cat - sure, you could say I was a stalker! But I hadn't. Nope. I simply waited for him to get out of work one night and attacked him in the parking lot. That's all.

We dated a few months, broke up mutually, emailed annually, reconnected for some coffee 9 years later and then got married .... isn't that how all relationships happen?

While I admit to my part in "stalking" him it seems a waste to have so much information at our fingertips and not use it! For instance (now that I'm not looking for a husband) if I post an ad to sell baby stuff and get a reply I'll google the stranger I'm about to meet. It just makes sense. And, honestly, do you REALIZE how easy it is to get information on someone!?

It's VERY easy! If they're plugged into the mainstream sites you can find just about anything! Here's what happened this morning:

I was innocently dreaming about owning a house so I took a look at a few places for sale on a website from our county newspaper. After finding a cute house neighboring some friends of ours I thought I'd get more details. Besides the newspaper, our county has property records online (most counties do ... check it out!). It tells me who owns what and how much it's worth. So I found the names of owners of this cute house and typed it into google and viola! A facebook page and a campaign website at my fingertips ... I now have a phone number, how many children he has, his birthday, his wife, what he's interested in based on his "pages" .... honestly it's scary! I didn't intend to find this much information ... but there it is.

If I was a con artist in addition to being a stalker ... wow! I'd have quite a career!

I guess I'm sharing all this to say - Be careful what you allow other people to see on your Facebook page. Change your settings people! There are a bunch of crazies out there and I'm apparently at the top of the list!

A new beginning

2009-09-14T10:34:00.005-04:00

I've always tried to be diligent with my money. Paying my bills, not using credit cards, and shopping at second-hand shops for most of our clothes, shoes, and household needs ... but I'm tired of how tight our budget is! When we got married it took Thom a few months to find a job. Money was tight. When we had Julia a few months later, money was tight. And now with Thom on layoff we are tightening our belts even more! But we're doing it! I'm proud of him and us!

Creditors aren't calling and banks aren't freezing our accounts ... I feel good about where we are. But I long to be in a better place. I'm very aware of the economic reality that there just aren't jobs. So I've been looking for ways to spend less and save money wherever we can. I recently started couponing and have been so thankful that others have invented the wheel in that department. But we need more! We had already begun talking about how to finance Christmas gifts this year because we know we won't have the cash.

On our "dates" (out and about beyond our city limits usually with Julia in tow) Thom and I go to the closest town with a large bookstore and spend an hour or two in separate corners perusing and reading random materials that seem interesting. On our last "date" I picked up a Dave Ramsey book, The Total Money Makeover, and skimmed through his step-by-step plan to financial freedom. Within 15 minutes I was on fire! Ready to sell everything we have in order to get us out of debt!

Compared to the "average" American we aren't doing too bad. But a car loan, a small personal loan, and our school loans still weigh us down. I could see the light at the end of the tunnel, but it's such a loooooong tunnel! Reading about Dave's plan and his virtual slap on my hand got me excited about leaving debt behind us for good. "Christmas is NOT an emergency." he wrote. "You need to budget for it." I was excited to have some hard truth jumping out of that book. And some real solutions for how to get out! I shared the excitement I had with Thom and suggested we start by selling his beloved 1968 VW Beetle ... he cringed ... perhaps not a smart way to pitch this life-changing course!

Just like our excess weight we keep saying "We need to do something!" Sitting in that big comfy chair in the middle of Books-a-Gazillion I found that something for our finances. I wanted to take the book home but we only had money for the trip out there and a coffee. So I jumped online as soon as I got home to get more details. Thom and I talked and he agreed that the Bug would have to go. It just makes sense. So he's in the process of getting it ready to sell and I'm mulling over the other things in our home that he might agree to get rid of. (Want to buy a wii? Maybe he won't notice!)

Fast forward a week from our date and we found ourselves in the local ReStore looking through various items when Thom pointed out a large sealed box full of Dave Ramsey materials. It didn't have a price on it but I put it in my cart immediately ... hoping ... praying ... it would be $10 or less. I already let Julia have a little toy and as I approached the cashier I held up the box and said, "Please tell me this is only $10!" She smiled and said, "That's exactly how much it is!" (Now I wish I had said $5) Regardless, I was thrilled! I just purchased a brand new (although dated) Financial Peace University Home Study Kit that would have cost me well over $200 brand new!! WOO HOO!!

So here's to the something that will change our lives, the HOPE of a better future, and the goal of being DEBT FREE! I plan to enjoy this ride! Join me??

www.daveramsey.com He's not the answer, but he points you to Truth and challenges you to rethink the way you've been living. I don't think you'll regret it!

Coupons and rebates and deals, OH MY!

2009-08-02T23:06:00.009-04:00

Have I told you how much I love spreadsheets? I loooooove spreadsheets. So much so that my husband recently reminded me that "sometimes God's plans don't fit in a spreadsheet." It was a good reminder since I tend to put my trust in numbers. I practically moved him down here with a spreadsheet. A formula here, a calculation there ... and voila! ... NY to NC in no time!

I keep track of all our bills with one handy dandy spreadsheet so when my husband was recently laid off I sat down with my "Money 2009" document to figure out where we could possibly cut back. We have income for everything we need and plenty of things that we don't. There are several things we prefer not to give up (internet, cable, cell phones) but have agreed that if necessary we will give up whatever we need to.

After a little research I decided the easiest & quickest solution for saving money is on groceries. Our family of 3 has been on a budget of $90/week for the past two years. Once a month we need to spend about $115 to cover things like t/p, cat litter, and detergent. But generally $90 takes care of all our snacks, meals, and occasional treats. We stopped eating out and have learned to appreciate home more than we used to. We grill and steam and bake and sear to our bellies content and if you've seen us recently, you know we are quite content! But now with Thom out of work we are challenged to spend less.

I felt assured that we could save money with coupons by reading blog after blog. Moneysavingmom.com couponmom.com and dealseekingmom.com for starters. But the more blogs I read the more stressed I became. While the whole notion of "couponing" has overwhelmed my brain I decided it was the only way we could save money. So I better get a grip!

The biggest challenge for me was tackling the CVS situation. If you google "cvs deals 8/2" you should find plenty of links to what I'm talking about. This all was mentioned to me a few years ago by my local barista during those moments of coffee-waiting chit chat but I didn't get it. It seemed like she was spending a lot of money on things she didn't want or need and called it "savings"! So here I am 3 years later reading about CVS for newbies and I finally see the light.

If you don't want the details ... quit reading now. The gist of the following lengthy explanation is that I essentially spent what I would have on diapers and batteries ($25) and got $20 in free stuff. Feel free to move along to your facebook now to find out who's picking their nose or on their way to bed.

Details for the newbie:

1. I had a goal in mind. Diapers. I knew I needed to spend money on diapers, so why not do it somewhere that would let me get a bunch of other stuff for "free".
2. I read a lot of blogs about CVS deals and found helpful information. Try here for starters.
3. I mulled it all over, followed blogs, and planned for 2 weeks.
4. I clipped coupons and organized coupons while mulling.
5. A week ago my husband said he needed razors. I checked and there was a deal so instead of buying them at W@lmart like we usually do, we paid the same amount of $ at CVS but got a coupon in return for $2 for a future trip. Technically this was our starting purchase.
6. I printed an online CVS coupon for "spend $15 and get $3 off". So now I had a total of $5 to start with at the store. I knew I'd be spending at least $15 on diapers.
7. I checked todays newspaper for deals and started a spreadsheet. (Of course!)
8. I made sure I had the right coupons for the items I was purchasing, wrote down my CVS 101 details on my envelope and headed to the store.

One of the things that stressed me out was the multiple transaction process. I didn't know if there was some CVS etiquette that should be followed. For instance, do people go in and purchase their first set of items, leave the store, go back in and purchase the second set? I was anxious about that and decided to just go ask the clerk.

I walked in, grabbed a cart and said to the first clerk I saw "I have a question! I'm new to this CVS extra bucks thing and was wondering if there is some type of etiquette I don't know about. To get the most out of the deals I read that people will make several separate transactions. Can you do that all at once by separating items and just paying for them separately?" And she confirmed that I didn't need to leave the store, put on a disguise and re-enter the store.

I had 20 minutes before the store closed so I made a quick trip through the aisles to get the things on my list. I'm sure I could have done better compared to the professional CVS moms, but I was thrilled with what I got. I made a few mistakes (forgot a coupon, wrote down the wrong price on my spreadsheet, etc.) and there were several items that were already sold out, but overall I think I did well. I spent exactly the same amount of money on diapers and batteries that I would have a month ago except now I got a bunch of stuff for free! And I still have $5 in extra bucks for next time.

Here's a link to my spreadsheet and a few pictures of my transactions. Total out of pocket expense was $24.87

Her first loss

2009-07-21T20:10:00.004-04:00

She repeats and nods her head, but I'm not sure how much she understands. How can she even comprehend that her daily companions have gone away? Tonight I held her a little longer and through my own tears tried to explain to her in terms I think she'll understand. "They took all their clothes ..." and with her little arms wrapped around me she said "clothes". "They took all their toys..." and I feel her jaw on my shoulder as she repeats "toys". "And they got in their car (car) and went to Missouri (Muri)"

It would be easy to ignore the subject all together except when she brings it up by asking for "Mah and Hal". But tonight her restlessness and tears left me to wonder if somewhere in her 19 mo old heart she is sad and feeling the loss in a way she can't communicate. So I do my best to communicate for her.

"When people I love move away I feel sad. And when I feel sad, I cry. I want all the people I love to be close to me. But sometimes they can't be. So we can send pictures and videos until we get to see them again."

Paranoid that I'll fail in regards to her emotional development I don't wait until she's in another room to cry. While I find myself grasping for the words to explain how I'm feeling, it seems important to at least try. Grief, loss, and disappointment weren't handled well in my family. I grew up with an understanding that tears were not an adult expression, anger was widely accepted, and grudges were meant to last for days. Instead of dealing with the real issue behind the anger and tears we were more often sent to our rooms. So with a certain ignorance to healthy emotional responses I felt completely unprepared for major loss and disappointment in my late teens and early twenties.

God has brought me much farther than I would have ever thought was possible. Tears are associated with sadness more than anger and forgiveness comes more freely than it used to. So now here I am with a daughter who needs to learn in her first 17 years what I've just learned in the last 17 of mine.

And that's where my current tears begin. Paige is SO extremely patient and loving; a much needed balance to my sometimes cold and tough love. She spent 20 or more hours a week with Julia while I worked and not only was a blessing to me but I'm convinced she has positively shaped Julia in ways I never could. "Gentle and nurturing" are challenging for me and come much easier and more genuine from Paige... so, yeah ... I miss her for me. But I miss her for Julia.

Who will love her as gently, as softly, as fully as Paige? It's hard to imagine living in this little town without her! I'm praying that God will help me love as much as she does. And I'm praying that He'll give me wisdom when it comes to Julia's own emotional development. I still have a long way to go in my own journey and hope to appropriately share whatever I can with my blooming toddler.

When it comes to dealing with our loss I know we'll share pictures, blog, and venture into a Skype, but I'm sure there will be sadness for weeks to come. So if I randomly burst into tears you'll know why. It's because she's too far away in "Muri".

Such a mess.

2009-07-17T21:55:00.006-04:00

My 18 mo. old daughter loves to make a mess. My 40 yr. old husband doesn't understand why I clean up after her 5... 6... 20 times a day. To my understanding, making a mess is what she DOES. It's learning, it's playing, it's figuring things out, it's exploring, it's creating, and a gazillion other toddler-appropriate things. If the toys get thrown around the living room and stay there, how is she suppose to do all those things? So I put them back in their place, arrange the books yet again, and sort the blocks out from the stacking cups for the umpteenth time. It's work .... but she is more interested in the toys when they're neatly on the shelves than strewn all over the floor. And I WANT her to be interested in the toys. If not, then it's up to me to be her entertainment and I just can't handle that every-waking-moment job!

Other things my daughter loves: Laurie Berkner videos Confession: These videos give me 20-30 minutes of PEACE. To prepare dinner, pee, make a phone call ... she's mezmerized by this woman (even though some of her songs grate on my nerves!)

After a brilliant discovery today, I was thinking about how my 18 mo old seems more like a 5 year old to me and I wondered if other parents were rushing childhood with their hopes and dreams for their genius like I was! So tonight after bedtime I did some googling. I stumbled across some interesting websites that encouraged me to let her be a child. More specifically, a toddler. Less videos and more mess.

Grass Stain Guru "Childhood was meant to be messy."

Sadly, when you google playtime activities for toddlers you end up with pages from unrealistic well-to-doers suggesting you spend money or engage in "simple" play things like this. But quite honestly, it's CRAP advice. I need real suggestions, people. Talk to me about how to handle the "my daughter is tearing apart the house, I just want to turn on the videos, but I feel guilty if I do!" Ah ... here it is! Something that's actually helpful! Thank you Rachel Lister!

And if you're like me and just want some fresh ideas ... check out these sites:

Free Range Kids
playborhood.com "Let your kids go outside and play"
activekidsclub.com

Favorites

2009-07-06T21:06:00.006-04:00

I have an adorable little girl who says "boobka" instead of book and "more mickey" when she wants to nurse. She loves boo bays (the little blue fruit!) and dah-dy. A true piece of work!

When meal time is over, her hands reach for her hair and whatever her fingers smashed and mushed ends up in her brown curls. She's learning the word "mess". My husband suggested a bib for her hair so I bolted to her room today to get a wide hair band and voila! she now has a hair bib!

Corn on the cob is a new favorite food and she eagerly gobbled up a pork sandwich (they call it "barbeque" down here) for dinner.

Wa-wa is her favorite drink,

crocs her favorite shoe.

Mah, Hal, Pay, and even Uncle Jaw are her favorite relatives in her tiny little world.

I look forward to her experience, understanding, and relationships to expand in the years to come! One day she'll ask for the car keys, a $20 bill and an extension on her curfew .... but until then ... I can't capture enough of her "mess".

"fatty, fatty, two by four, can't fit through the classroom door"

2009-05-28T09:49:00.003-04:00

I considered a post about my diet a few weeks ago but work and a blooming toddler quickly take my mind off of personal creativity. She wrote about her own situation and it encouraged me to jot my thoughts down before I type another report or change another diaper. It's amazing how quickly the brain fails after 30 a baby.

So here it is.

A few of my friends have commented about my weight. Of course these are the closest friends because no friend on the fringe would dare broach the subject. Fringe friends don't talk about issues unless it's the canceling of a beloved show or a new hair style hot on the market. Discussing anything deeper would only elicit sharp glances with piercing eyes.

"I don't get it!" He said. "You drink water all the time, you don't really eat that much .... I just don't get it!"

He's right. I do drink water all the time. And when it comes to normal food, normal meals, and regular portions in public ... I am oh so good about how much I eat. So in his eyes I should be a toothpick with legs!

However.

There are many reasons boiled down to one that keep me away from mirrors these days: I eat too much. I eat when I'm bored. I eat when I'm depressed. I eat because I love food. I eat because I think I'm hungry. I eat because I shouldn't waste all this food. After all there are starving children somewhere!

Sometime in the past few months I read one of those surveys people fill out when they're bored and think that everyone is dying to know more about them... What's your favorite drink, favorite pair of underwear, favorite holiday ... blah blah blah. But what caught my eye on this one was the answer to "What do you typically eat for lunch?"

She said salad and a yogurt.

Salad and a yogurt? WHAT? That's certainly not enough foo ...... Oooooh! (Cue the light bulb!)

I must have sat there for 10 minutes thinking about her answer. Salad and a yogurt. So THAT'S what skinny people eat! In-ter-esting!

I've had a few light bulb moments since then. And when you put several light bulbs together you're bound to either cut the breaker because it's too damn bright or finally get a clue.

Unfortunately I have run into another issue. I faithfully pack my lunch every morning. Yogurt. Salad. Almonds. Water. But the other day I ate my yogurt first (because I crave sugar) and after I finished my salad, almonds, and water I went berserk! I needed more sugar! In the back room we have a container of candy bars. Honestly, my issue wasn't if I should or not ... my issue was "Which one?" And I couldn't decide. So you know what I did?

I ate two.

TWO candy bars.

After salad and almonds and water.

So, yes, my dear friend. That explains it.

I decided to eat the yogurt last from now on because I crave sugar after every meal. I'm an addict.

No, really.

I looked it up.

On weddings and weeding

2009-05-20T22:51:00.005-04:00

My rings have temporarily been set aside. It was excruciating to take them off but necessary to keep working. During this season of gardening and weeding, a large blister formed just above the two bands on my right hand. I placed them in the jewelry box that my grandfather made and closed the small drawer with a bit of sadness in my heart. I enjoy wearing those rings. The first one is from 1940. It was my grandmother's wedding band.

I knew the age difference was significant between my grandparents but it wasn't until I was in my 20's that I heard the whole story. She eloped! He was the 40 year old neighbor and good friend to her father. She was the oldest girl of 6 children and only 19 when they fell in love. Her father was against them and after they married he didn't speak to her for 2 years. They wanted children of their own but couldn't conceive until 8 years later when they had my mother, an only child.

The second band was my mother's. She and my father met at a bar in upstate NY during her college years. He was home on leave from the military. My father asked her to dance 3 times before she agreed just to get him to go away. She forgot that she lied to him and it took my dad by surprise when he met her father for the first time. My dad thought he was meeting a man of the cloth. What he met was a cigarette smoking, tattooed, 4 lettered vocabulary man who wanted to know what the hell my dad was doing with his arm around my mother.

Those were the days!

My parents were married on a rainy day in August by a retired preacher who said, "awfully wedded life" instead of "lawfully wedded wife" and mispronounced my father's name. Somehow he turned Ronald into Roland.

No joke.

But enough about weddings .... this all started because I have an incessant need to weed.

Weeding is the perfect gardening activity for me. I put to use my problem solving skills! Assess the situation, create a plan of action, implement the tedious and detailed process, and the best part of all ... I see immediate results. It's fantastic!

Weeding allows me to be extremely critical and get to the heart of the problem without fluffy words or cautious tones. It's satisfying to be brutal once in a while! Even if it's just with the plants. Living in the south there aren't many opportunities to "tell it like it is" unless you include the phrase "bless her heart". Sometimes it's exhausting to be nice!

Stirring a little.

2009-05-10T23:10:00.003-04:00

Like a bottle of italian dressing some spices that settled to the bottom have been stirred up. Shaken. Makes for a better flavor but all that stuff at the bottom was calm and complacent. An easy way to exist.

But my italian dressing doesn't taste good right now:

:After saying to my husband, "Not in public!" he immediately replied that he doesn't like living two different lives and would rather just BE.

:A dear friend being honest and brave enough to tell me I've become too comfortable in solitude and distance from the people I love.

:Realizing I am much more like my mother than I would like. In weight, in reactions, in photos, in struggles.

:Concluding that if I don't want to be like my mother I should probably do things differently than she did. *Put down the donut, Jacqui!*

:Being very aware of how quickly I go from loving to bitchy.

:Acknowledging that my perfectionist tendencies stop me from working on projects.

:Deciding that the kitchen floor doesn't need to be mopped perfectly, it just needs to be mopped. Something is better than nothing.

Throw it away.

2009-03-07T20:26:00.002-05:00

We owned a very heavy cast iron skillet.

Owned.

Past tense.

It was rusting and I couldn't seem to care for it properly. The rust bothered me. I didn't want to eat a rusty omelet or orange-tinted hash browns. Even after finding a website for proper maintenance techniques I decided it was too much effort for one pan. My husband scowled when I suggested we never use it again. So I dropped the subject and decided to let him deal with it.

One evening he used the pan to make dinner. The hamburgers were great and I assumed everything was going well for him and the pan. But a few hours later as I was cleaning up the kitchen I saw a black handle sticking out of the garbage can. Huh. I guess he's done with it. I thought. So I pushed the skillet farther in, dumped some onion and lettuce scraps on top and closed the lid.

The next evening Thom took out the trash.

Quite honestly, I was thrilled to be rid of the rust bucket. One less pan to wash! But fast forward a few weeks with me ....

Thom walks into the living room and asks, "Have you seen the skillet?"

"Uh, you threw it away a few weeks ago ... remember?" I retorted.

To that, he throws his hands in the air, claims innocence, and blames me for throwing out the pan!

What???

Apparently the pan was in the garbage to drain the grease. Apparently he forgot about it and assumed I had taken it out. Apparently he didn't notice how heavy the bag was when he removed it from the can.

To this day we still laugh, point fingers at one another and completely disagree with who's to blame.

Of course ... he is.

wii are fat and wii need a change

2009-02-08T21:05:00.004-05:00

For Thom's 40th birthday/Christmas present we purchased a wii. I was reluctant but it was THE only thing he'd been asking for since June of '07. Whenever we received gift cards for our wedding he asked (begged!) for a wii. I politely denied his request and continued meandering through the housewares section. Since he was still asking for one a year and a half later, I figured he was serious about wanting the wii and this wasn't some toy helicopter that he'd play with for a few weeks and then forget about.

I have to say I've enjoyed the wii ... even renewed my love of Tetris. It's an expensive toy though. I'm not a fan of credit cards and spending money we don't have, but we made a purchase last Monday that we're putting to good use. The wii Fit.

For two fatties who sit on the couch and watch tv every night this has been a great tool for us! This past week has been so different. It's nice to come home, have fun, be together, and work at our goal toward becoming the hottest married couple this side of the Mississippi. Thom is doing step areobics as I type ... I just finished a 34 min. workout and now get my turn to laugh at him while he tries his foot at it. :-)

I've skiied, boxed, rolled marbles, and caught fish all with the shift of my weight. And let me tell ya ... there's a lot of it!

I caught a glimpse of myself in a dark window while eating an ice cream cone last night on a date with my husband. Sad to say I was startled by the reflection because I thought it was someone else standing outside. I didn't even recognize my own stinkin' reflection!!!

When you step on the wii balance board be prepared for brutal honesty. I had to laugh when the board said "OH!" as I stepped on. And then tells you the truth ... fatty style. "That's obese!" You should definitely be able to laugh at yourself, or at least the wii Fit. You can cry if you need to ... but I find it best to acknowledge the truth and move on. Or just MOVE. That's a good start!

Can you smell the banana bread?

2009-01-13T20:12:00.003-05:00

That's usually how you know it's done ... when you can smell it. I mean REALLY smell every morsel wafting into the living room. Then it's ready to be pulled out of the oven with my big red mitt! Martha taught me that a cracked crown is the only way banana bread ever comes out of the oven ... a relief since I thought I was doing something terribly wrong. But alas ... everything was just right!

I've enjoyed baking this past year. The 15 pounds around my waist will attest to my explorations in the kitchen. I should be able to use weight as a marketing tool. "If you want to know how well I bake just take a good look at me! These thighs weren't born over night!!"

It's unfortunate, really. Baked goods are so wonderfully scrumptious and comforting and filling and ... well ... a delicious baked treat on the counter makes me feel like a successful wife and a good mom. My husband is happy, my daughter is happy ... and I'm completely satisfied that something I made came out well.

My first banana bread was a disaster and I swore I would never bake again. I was horrified that all those ingredients and all that time I spent produced a loaf of YUCK. So I never baked again. Well .. until Jen Mangialomini ventured into the kitchen with me and helped me make a loaf of chocolate chip banana bread and taught me that reading a recipe SEVERAL times really makes a difference.

I have a habit of reading fast, dumping ingredients, mixing in random order, and expecting a sure thing. I've proven this procedure to produce baked failures time and again.

So no more dumping, mixing, and speed reading for me. My favorite baking book of all time is the Baking Illustrated book. It explains the WHY of the recipe ... and this helped my old theory of "it all ends up in the oven anyway".

Well, the butter is melted, the pecans are toasted, and bananas are waiting to be mashed ... stop over in the morning and enjoy a slice with me. But come early ... it'll go fast!

(I also found the recipe posted here: leitesculinaria.com)

Neighboorhood Nuisance

2009-01-10T12:48:00.003-05:00

Dogs.

Three nosey dogs.

Barking at everything that passes by ... cars, people, animals ... and stealing things from my property. They roam and follow and bark ... and look at my dear helpless little girl like she's their next chew toy.

So I pulled some "Dog Whisperer" stunts on them.

I give them the "I don't care who you are, I'll punt you across this lawn in a heart beat!" look. And I step closer to them when they step closer to me with an even more earnest "I wouldn't come closer if I were you" stance.

And they leave us alone. When I'm in the yard, they don't step foot on our property.

I throw a little party in my head every time they back down. :-)

I love the Dog Whisperer ... good stuff!

Tough Times

2009-01-09T21:59:00.002-05:00

Perspective is:

Complaining about a cut from 15 minutes to a 10 minute break and later finding out someone dear to us has lost their job.

Julia walking

2008-11-02T17:53:00.003-05:00

Crawling at 6 months old.

2008-07-22T17:40:00.004-04:00

Note: She growls when she falls. It's not a toot. Honest.
PS. Ignore our redneck way of tilting the air conditioner vent.

Otherwise, enjoy the video of our active 6 month old!

First official family photo

2008-06-01T09:00:00.000-04:00

Our family! Finally captured on camera!

2008-05-09T09:48:00.005-04:00

Some ideas I've come up with for Julia that I want to share .... these have been helpful since 2 1/2 months or so.

Use the pacifier clips to clip a toy to your girl when she's interested in toys but doesn't know how to hold one for a long time. This way it doesn't travel far when she drops it and she can easily find it again.

Use a car seat head support insert thing in her high chair so she doesn't smack her head on the hard plastic when she's just learning to sit up and her muscle control isn't that great yet.

When she's fussy in the late afternoon because she's tired but it's not bedtime, go outside and sit on a blanket ... the wind in the trees, the cars passing by, and the kids on their bikes all provide endless distraction and entertainment (along with the toys and books we're playing with and reading).

Use a cloth baby diaper on top of the normal pad and cover on the changing table. It's easier to pop it in the washer than the whole changing table sheet. Keep a couple cloth diapers to rotate every few days to minimize the germ build-up.

And something I wish I knew from day one:

If she wakes up crying she's not done sleeping yet and is usually angry she's awake and probably needs help getting back to sleep. Either sit by her and pat her back/bottom or if she really won't settle after a few minutes, lay down with her in your bed, or put her in a moby wrap and help her get back to sleep. When she wakes up happy you know she's had enough sleep. If she gets cranky an hour later and it's not her diaper or hunger ... she probably needs sleep again! Trust me ... she sleeps a lot! And is a much happier baby when she gets to sleep! Guard her nap times and bed times with your life!!

Any mommy advice to give me?? I'm still learning!!

Everything Changes

2007-11-24T10:59:00.000-05:00

I find myself listening in the morning. Awake. Breathing in the silence. Savoring the last few moments of sleepiness and appreciating with a full heart that these days are few. Husband sleeps next to me and I lay still. Our room is dark and cozy even though it's 9am. I take deep breaths and watch him breathe. His freckles make me smile. The way he reaches his foot toward mine ... these are the things I want to always notice. This peace. This love.

My heart and mind are constantly thinking about this next season. I ask myself questions, I read books for answers, I search my own heart for answers. And still, I don't know what to anticipate other than change. Everything is about to change. A little body- adding a third breath to our mornings. Adding a new dimension to the silence, for even in the silence I will be very aware of her. The only thing I am sure of is that God gave her life. And gave her to me. While she is fully His, she is fully mine for this season. If left to myself and self-centered thoughts I can easily become overwhelmed with all that is changing, all that I won't have anymore, all that scares me about this ... but I was raised to turn my eyes toward heaven. And though I may forget where my peace comes from, I find I quickly return there ... with my eyes toward the One who made me. I am certain and thankful that I can depend on God for the things I need. He has always provided for me. Always. This will be no different.

When I'm exhausted and losing patience and baby J is crying louder than me and I feel like that moment will never end ... please remind me of truth. This too shall pass. He will meet my needs whether I had 8 hours of sleep or 2. More than baby books and other's advice, I want to cling to that truth.

Until then, I continue to savor these moments of silence and anticipation. I'm taking advantage of making plans, leaving the house with just my purse, and staying out as long as I want. These days are few.

bLocKeD

2007-05-03T10:17:00.000-04:00

The website I usually use to jot down my thoughts is currently being blocked by my gracious web server. Granted, I shouldn't really be upset ... I am, after all, blogging during my 9-5. Does this make me a bad person? Or just American? *guilt sets in* Where has my work ethic gone??

I haven't felt the flare for writing in recent months. Words haven't been eloquent or interesting. The times I've taken to reflect on life, love, and liberty have been minimal and what ends up on the page is more of a laundry list to a complaint department at Jacqui Headquarters than meaningful expression of my personal growth.

Ah, yes. Personal growth. My mother often said "coffee stunts your growth." I believed her. She also told us she was going to put bricks on our heads to stop us from getting so tall. I was curious why she didn't just put on a pot of coffee.

I know that was a bit of a bunny trail, but stay with me. I'm still thinking about personal growth.

What I've been ordering lately hasn't been the usual. The items on my plate are very meager servings of those three L's I mentioned before. Perhaps my absence at the table has effected me more than I thought. There's been a feast going on and I've refused to take part. I've recognized this problem several times over the past 10 years. I went so far as to write a few lines down for the making of a great song ... but never finished:

I'm thirsty, but I don't take time to drink.
I'm hungry, and the table is set for me.
But I pass by. And wonder why I feel so weak.

I picture this in my head like a sappy drama on the Lifetime channel. I can see how ridiculous it is. A child munching on saltines in the living room while the rest of the family is stuffing themselves with turkey and mashed potatoes in the dining room. No one is stopping her from eating ... so why won't she come to the table? She's made herself an outsider when she has every right to a portion of peas.

Does she feel unworthy? Yes.
Does she want someone to make her a plate and bring it to her? Yes.
Does she know she's being ridiculous and stubborn? Yes.

As the credits roll a deep voice asks, "Will she ever find the courage to take her place at the table? Will Aunt Betty realize she's missing and search for the hungry child? Stay tuned for next week's episode when a concerned neighbor finds her digging through the garbage can in the backyard!"

And we go to commercial.