Ringing in 2015: Fresh starts, clean slates and all that jazz.

It's almost comical to look back on my post from last year at this time. I had grand plans to coast quietly into the New Year, create a peaceful little bubble around myself, be mindful in my daily interactions with the world, live a more "zen" life.

What's that they say ... if you want to make God laugh, tell him your plans? Yeah.

I never would have guessed I'd be where I am at the end of 2014. Early in the new year I was offered a part-time job and I've been working about 20 hours a week since early February. I love it. It's just enough for me to get out and see people, interact with adults, and feel useful. It's not a lot of money, but I can't beat a four-day work week and being close to where my kids are in school during the day. It had been six years since I worked regularly outside the home, but it was a relatively easy transition jumping back into the workforce.

At about the same time I started my new job I also started a Bible study with a great group of ladies. This was my first experience doing a group study and I can honestly say it has been life-changing. I'm excited to continue to grow my relationships with God and these godly women when we start another study in the new year.

With my heart and mind open to whatever direction God might steer me, toward the end of summer I was researching the possibility of transforming an old building down the street from our office into a new business - a farm stand where I would resurrect the city's weekend farmer's market, and sell fresh produce and maybe some other locally-made goods. Very quickly it went from "I wonder if we could make a go of this" to "holy cow, we're doing this!" So I'm looking at the first of the year looming and I am reminded that in three months I'll be mailing my first rent check and I get all tingly and excited and a little freaked out and I think if I was looking for life to slow down this was not the best avenue to travel.

HOWEVER. I have never experienced the type of happy I feel every time someone asks me to tell them about my plans for this business. There are moments of panic when I think I can never make it happen like I see it in my mind but then I remember that even if it's not perfect (and what is?) it will still be really awesome and I will be incredibly happy.

So 2015 will be an interesting year. I don't really know what to expect, except a lot of hard work. This is one of those instances when you don't know what you're capable of if you don't give it a try, so I'm going for it. It's a good time in our lives - as a couple and as a family - and I'm excited to see where this next year takes us.

Tonight we're saying goodbye to 2014 and celebrating Steve's and his brother's January 6 birthdays (same day, five years apart) with a huge bonfire, food, drinks and visiting with friends. I came in early because my toes were frozen. I might make it to midnight, but not much longer.

I asked Steve if he had any goals or resolutions for 2015. "Just more of being me," he said.

Twenty-some years together and the guy is still making me laugh. I adore him.

Here's to a healthy, happy, prosperous New Year for all of us. May you be blessed. Cheers!

When the message smacks you right in the face.

Some weeks ago a friend posted on Facebook asking if anyone was interested in a Bible study based on the book "7" by Jen Hatmaker.

I jumped. Not only have I been craving a little more time spent in and studying The Word, but this part-time journalist/full-time mama and homemaker could really use a regular date with a few other adult women.

Fast forward a few weeks to now. I dive into 7 and I am immediately convicted.

I'm laughing, because Jen Hatmaker is hysterical and I adore her girl-in-the-next-pew, nobody's-perfect style. I am devouring the book. But I am also stopping every few paragraphs, going back and re-reading, reflecting on my own life, my family's consumerist habits and the very basic things we take for granted like all the clean water we could want and a warm, secure place to sleep at night.

(Go ahead. If you haven't already, Google Jen Hatmaker. I'll wait.) 

Reading this book now is perfect timing for me. Steve has been off work since the week of Thanksgiving, and probably won't be starting his next project until after the first of the year. This wasn't unexpected. We knew he would have some time off this winter, and I actually looked forward to having him here at home through the holidays.

Even when it's expected, though, is it ever really a good time to be unemployed (read: without a steady income)? And listen. I am the kind of girl who needs the threat of that looming deadline to get my butt in gear. I try to sock money away all year long for occasions such as this, but it seems like about the time we have a good chunk in the savings account the wheels fall off. Sometimes literally. Repairs on pickup trucks are expensive, and pickups are what we have. Household repairs aren't cheap, either. Home ownership is not for sissies ... or anyone who gets a little anxious when the numbers don't compute the way you want them to. *ahem* And don't even get me started on the expenses of raising children.

So when Steve came home we knew we'd have to go into survival mode, trimming the fat clean out of the budget and making every penny count. He did apply for unemployment benefits which equal about the same amount per week that he was earning in 1995 - when he was single and childless and still lived with his parents. It's at least a nice supplement to the last paycheck that will roll in this month, and all together it will be enough for us to make it to the next paycheck - whenever that is - well-fed and with our sanity (relatively) intact.

But what if it wasn't enough?

Seriously?! (Now I'm talking to myself.) How could we EVER not have enough?

I know there are folks living in poverty all around us. I know many go without food and shelter on a regular basis for reasons out of their control. I know that if I were in their shoes looking at me and my family I would think we were wealthy. Sadly, I often get stuck in the mindset that we are not.

As Jen H. explores in the book, I too often struggle with the "why" of my lot in life. Why am I so fortunate to have been born in the richest country in the world? Why have I had such a wonderful life, never knowing what it's like to go hungry or to not be able to see a doctor when I'm sick? It makes me a little bit ashamed of where we are right now, today: watching Monday Night Football on a large screen, kids tucked into their comfy beds, my bare feet not cold at all despite the chill outside, refrigerator packed with food, some of which will no doubt be tossed in the trash because half the members of this household don't like leftovers.

Yes. We occasionally throw food away because we can't eat it all before it goes bad or starts growing fuzz. This is not ok!!

And this is why I'm feeling convicted. We need to be better stewards of the resources we've been blessed with always, not just when we're feeling the squeeze. AND (and this comes from yours truly, Ms. Pare Down and Simplify herself) we need to stop filling every little empty space in our home and in our souls with stuff. If we busy ourselves filling those gaps where's the room for God to do His work in us?

It's definitely something to ponder, and I have been giving it much thought these last few days. Well ... our "more is more" lifestyle  - and that's a collective "our" as in "Americans" - has been on my mind a lot lately, especially with Christmas coming up, but Jen's book is pushing me to examine my own family's habits a little more closely.

I'm halfway through the book. Who knows, I could end up hating the idea of her experimental mutiny against excess by the time I get to the end. I doubt it, though. I'll keep you posted.

Memories from Mackinaw. And "Mackinac." (Love those Brits.)

My house resembles a war zone. My dogs need some focused attention. The kids start school in a month and we're not even close to ready. I have half a dozen half-baked projects scattered all over the place. And I am just beginning to tame the laundry. Oh, and there may be things growing in the refrigerator that could be considered uncivilized.

But I wouldn't change any of it if I had to give up the weekend I just spent with my girl.

Rachel and I camped for two nights with her Girl Scout troop in Mackinaw City, and spent all day Saturday on Mackinac Island. It was Rachel's first time seeing the Mackinac Bridge and visiting the island, and I am so glad I got to experience that with her.

 

On a shopping excursion Rachel had her fortune read by the creepy-looking gypsy lady in the box. Part of her fortune said, "Your cool thinking sees you through a mishap with a Taurus or Leo ..."

I'm a Leo. Ha!

Fortunately we didn't have any mishaps over the weekend. Except that Saturday was my birthday, and I did get pooped on by a bird. At least it wasn't in my hair. Happy birthday to me!

Getting ready to board the ferry to Mackinac Island. Rach was a little nervous. She got over it.

One of the horses that pulled our carriage on the first leg of our tour. The tour company uses each team for only four hours at a time, and we were lucky enough to be able to watch the handlers switch our team for fresh horses. They are all very good - and quick - at what they do!

 This was the 3-horse team for the final leg of our tour. That's Wade on the right. He was moving a little slow that day, so the tour guide was fussing at him (good-naturedly). Look at that face ...

One of our stops was at the Butterfly House.

It was awesome. The girls loved it. And I had a new camera to play with.

Beautiful butterfly pictures!

Rachel pointed out that this butterfly looks like a fish. And there was a little pond just to the right ... so he looks like he's about to jump in! Can you see the fish?

 One of my favorites landed on Rachel's finger.

 

 And she had a couple land on her hoodie.

 I think this is my favorite photo. I love the blue of the butterfly against those huge, green leaves.

 The carriage tour also took us by the cemeteries. If I had a little more time I would have loved to walk around and take more pictures there.

 Military cemetery.

Another stop on the tour:

 The view from Arch Rock down the shoreline.

 After our tour, Rach and I rented bikes and just rode around for a while. It was SO busy on the island that day! We even got in a little traffic jam involving bicycles, horse-drawn wagons and carriages ... we decided to get off our bikes and walk them through that.

 We took a little loop that goes right along the shoreline and stopped for a few minutes to take in the view.

 Me and my girl.

 A view of the Mackinac Bridge on our way back to the mainland. It had been overcast all day and it was a chilly ride back in the evening.

We had a fantastic time. I always feel so blessed (and exhausted!) after we spend time with Rachel's GS troop. The girls all get along so well and I love spending time with the moms, too - several of us go way back, but I consider each of them friends - and we're a good mix of cooks, nurturers, planners, outdoorsy-types. And thankfully, everyone has a great sense of humor. Because when your dinner burns and the craft project doesn't work out as planned and the campfire is mostly billowing smoke, a sense of humor comes in pretty handy.

Of Memorial Day and hittin' the road.

It's Memorial Day. I find it hard to express the gratitude, the love, the appreciation I feel for the people who have served our country and lost their lives in the process. That is the ultimate sacrifice ... and the most humbling gift.

We did not attend any Memorial Day services today. We had a quiet day at home. But my mind went back to my trip with Rachel to Washington, D.C., last year. It was so touching to see the war memorials and to be there among so much history. It gave us an even better appreciation for those who serve our great nation.

At the Korean War Memorial.

Thank you.

***

  

Completely unrelated to Memorial Day, I've been having a rough time lately. Somewhere north of being in a funk but not quite feeling myself. I wish I knew what was making me feel this way, because I feel like if I knew what it was I could fix it. Certainly it's a little bit of missing Steve. And some days I'm a bit busier than I'd like to be which gets me all discombobulated, yet the times when I have nothing going on I feel like I should be busy and my brain starts filling the silence with all kinds of junk.

Today I kept my mind and my body busy with clearing out and rearranging my closet. I tried on all my clothes, threw away a few pieces long past their prime and set aside a stack for Goodwill. Why do we keep clothes that don't fit us? For YEARS? I decided I'd rather have the space. I also decided it's time to invest in my wardrobe a bit. I don't need much, but I think I could find a handful of quality pieces to round things out and make me feel a little better about myself when I'm out and about. I'm gonna' keep my eyes open during my travels this summer when I am closer to really good shopping.

Ahh, summer. The kids have six more days of school left, then we're freeeee! I am so looking forward to heading east to spend some time with Steve. I wanna hit the road, have a change of scenery. I'll have a little taste of it this week when I head to Indiana to visit a friend. It'll be a quick trip - just two nights away - but it will be travel time sans children, adult time with a couple of people I adore (and haven't seen in far too long), and a chance to see something other than these four walls I'm livin' in. I do love my home and my family, but there comes a point when I get a little stir-crazy and ready to do something different. I will miss all of it while I'm gone, but I will enjoy the time away.

In the meantime, I made brownies. Isn't that what any slightly-less-than-sane gal would do when she's feeling antsy? And what a shame, the kids don't care for them. (I think the almond extract the recipe called for makes them taste wonky to the kids. I happen to love it.) Guess I'll have to eat the whole batch all by myself.

Or should I say ... the rest of the batch. *ahem*

 

A cautionary tale: WEAR YOUR FREAKIN' HELMET.

It is after midnight as I begin to write and here I sit in the dim light in our living room half numb, half high on adrenaline, part of me wanting to crawl out of my skin and scream at the top of my lungs, another part wanting to crawl under the covers on my bed and sleep for a week. Maybe it was all a bad dream.

But it wasn't a dream. No, rather it was that nightmare of a phone call every parent dreads receiving: "The ambulance is on its way. We need your permission to send your child to the hospital for treatment."

It was Wednesday. Wednesday is Ski Club day. Sam wouldn't be home until late, so Rachel and I took the opportunity to have a little date night. We went for pizza - her choice - and then we needed to do a little shopping for a few things to finish a school project. As I parked the truck at our final stop I saw my cell phone glowing in my purse.

Who's calling? Nobody ever calls me.

As I grabbed the phone to answer, the screen went dark. Missed it. I checked my missed calls - there were four of them. Steve, my brother, a number I didn't recognize, and then Steve again. Oh hell. My brother rarely calls me. I thought something happened to Steve. He's in Pennsylvania. How the heck could I get to Pennsylvania fast enough?

I dialed Steve's number. "I just got off the phone with Ski Patrol," he said.

My heart stopped.

In my head: Oh God. Please tell me Sam was wearing his helmet.

I don't know what I actually said. It's all a blur now. I do know I had Steve on speaker phone, and as he told me Sam had fallen and hit his head and been knocked unconscious I heard Rachel gasp and then start to cry in the seat next to me. They were waiting for EMS, he told me, and I needed to call Ms. B, the ski club advisor, so someone could tell me where to go.

By the time I got off the phone with Steve I had a voicemail from Ms. B. I spoke with her, then she handed the phone to Sam and I tried my best to console him. He was scared and didn't know what had happened. It felt like someone was ripping my heart right out of my chest - my firstborn hurt, confused and crying on the other end of the line, my baby sitting next to me crying, worried about her big brother.

I spoke with the gentleman from ski patrol. Sam was ok at that moment, he said, but the ambulance should be there any minute and they might want to take him to the hospital as a precaution. I asked him to call me as soon as they knew more, gave my consent to follow whatever procedure the EMT's felt necessary, and I would drive to get Sam wherever I needed to. I hightailed it home to drop Rachel off with my in-laws and wait for the call.

By the time I got home, Ms. B had called to tell me Sam was being loaded into the ambulance and he would be taken to a nearby hospital. She said he could tell the EMT's where he lived, but he didn't remember talking to me just 20 minutes prior. This concerned them.

The hospital he was headed to is about a 1.5-hour drive from our house.

Longest. Drive. Ever.

I asked my future-sister-in-law Sue to ride along with me. Did I mention it was a long drive? With only the knowledge that my kid had been strapped to a backboard and rushed off in an ambulance. Because he fell and hit his head - sans helmet - hard enough to knock himself out.

He was not. wearing. his helmet.

Crap.

Sue and I got checked in, got directions to Sam's room, and I walked in to find him sitting up in the bed watching NCIS on television. He smiled at me. I kissed him. I touched his head. I stared at him. He giggled. "What?" And he kept giggling, that "I'm a little uncomfortable with all of this and I don't really know what's going on" giggle. If I hadn't been so relieved I probably would have smacked him. There he sat looking like nothing ever happened, save for some dark circles under his eyes, and there I was, heart and mind having gone through the wringer a thousand times on the way there.

He has a concussion. A CT scan came back normal, so he was discharged. Praise God in Heaven. It could have been so much worse.

So tonight I keep vigil, checking on him often. He is released to return to school in the morning if he is up to it. I fear he has a long road ahead as the doctor said the resulting short-term memory loss could last for 4-6 weeks. He must have asked me a dozen times on the way home if I had gotten his bags (I did), and if he would be able to go skiing next week (not likely).

While I drove home, Sam texted back and forth with one of the kids who was skiing with him. He asked his buddy to help him piece things together - how he fell, what he hit, how long he was out. He couldn't (and still can't) remember any of it. The ER nurse said he might never remember. Everything from the time he got on the bus to go skiing until the time he was loaded in the ambulance is gone - *poof* - from his memory.

He read the texts to us. I was immediately sorry he had. It was all I could do not to pull over, jump from the truck and vomit on the roadside. I just kept repeating in my head ... thank you Jesus ... thank you Jesus ... thank you for letting us keep him ... thank you for the friends who were with him ... thank you ... thank you.

And, maybe a little selfishly, I am thankful he doesn't remember the trauma.

I'm sure Sam will want to go to school if he's not too sore; he wants to see his buddies and hear everyone's version of what happened. I plan to go with him to explain to his teachers the whole memory-loss thing.

Hopefully while I'm there I'll have a chance to hug a few kids and tell them "thank you" for getting Sam the help he needed. They may never understand how grateful I am.

Clean Slate Sunday: 1.15.12 edition

Whew. I am in dire need of that clean slate this week. I feel like I am going in a hundred different directions and getting nowhere fast.

Or not moving at all. And getting nowhere fast.

Whichever.

I'm tired. I started typing out all the things I attribute my exhaustion to, but then I felt like a wuss. Or a whiner. And nobody likes a whiner.

Truth is we just have a lot going on. The kids are active, Steve is settling into a new job, and I'm getting used to having a regular chunk of time committed to a job, too. Although I wouldn't really call it a "job" ... I'm babysitting three days a week for some friends. I am happy to help them out and their toddler is an absolute joy ... but a toddler, nonetheless. I had forgotten how busy little ones can be at that age. I mean, I remember, but I'm older than I was when I was chasing my own kids around. That sure makes a difference. And after almost four years of being a stay-at-home mom, I'm accustomed to having my weekdays to myself during the school year.

So, yeah, it's just life. Perhaps I got way too into the relaxation of Christmas break and having Steve here and I'm still trying to pull myself out of it. My body wants to sleep in every morning, nap and eat and nap during the day, and do lots of nothing in between. My brain, on the other hand, has other plans and works overtime making lists of what needs to be done. Like laundry. Dinner. Taking the dog out. Grocery shopping. Dentist appointments. All that good stuff.

No lists tonight, though. I'm going to bed early and I'm taking a book with me. I plan to distract myself with whatever the story is until I fall asleep.

Tomorrow is a new day. A chance to start fresh. Bring it, Monday!

Hello 2012! We're glad to see ya'.

 

On our way out to meet our friends for New Year's Eve dinner and whatever festivities awaited.

(Uhhh, maybe I should work on losing that double chin this year? Yeesh.)

 Our pals Jason and Amy, me and Steve.

And in a nod to small towns everywhere: our buddy the police chief took this picture for us.

The Countdown Clock.

 My sweet hubby.

 

 The Ball. 

It hung from a crane over the main intersection, all lit up and changing colors all night - pretty cool, until they started lowering it and then the lights went out ... which was a bit anti-climactic. Malfunction, I'm guessing.

The good news, though, is the fireworks display following the Ball Drop was fantastic. I got a little cramp in my neck from looking up so long because they were right above us over the street, but it was so worth it.

Me and Amy, all bundled up!

We had such a great time last night - and honestly, though the Light Up The Lake celebration and the sense of community were awesome, my favorite part of the night was talking and laughing over dinner with great friends, and then chillin' at their house for a while before we headed home. It was probably one of the more memorable NYE celebrations we've had in a long time.

Despite some struggles, the past year has been fairly good to us. I can't say I'm sorry to see 2011 go ... I'm just looking forward to a great year ahead. Steve is headed back to work this week to a new job with a new company (new to us, anyway). The kids are scheduled to go back to school this week, and Sam will be hitting the slopes with the school ski club for the first time. I'm excited about getting back into our routines and making some changes for the better around here. No New Year's resolutions, mind you; I don't do those anymore. But I do try to keep steering my life in a positive direction - spiritually, physically, financially - yes, all those areas where others do make resolutions. Better habits over time is what I'm working toward. God willing, we'll look back on 2012 as a great year, too.

Happy New Year!

Like a kid on Christmas morning.

I had trouble sleeping last night. Too much caffeine, maybe. Full moon shining through the skylights, maybe. But mostly because my mind was racing with excitement. I had spent a couple hours few minutes on Pinterest (hellooo, time suck) (proof: I just opened up the page to copy and link the address and spent 5 minutes there. Psh.) looking at all kinds of ideas for little baking projects and fun crafts to do with the kids while they are off for Christmas break. They are done with school after next Friday which leaves several days before Christmas to keep them busy.

I found some neat recipes for edible "gifts in a jar" and easy chocolate-dipped whatever-you-can-think-of with lots of little goodies sprinkled over them. Sam and Rachel both enjoy spending time in the kitchen, so I'm really looking forward to it. So ... if you stop by our house around Christmas this year you'll definitely get your sugar buzz for the day. Zing!

Leading up to vacation time, I've been working on cleaning and decorating the house for the holidays. We don't have a whole lot of storage space for holiday-specific decor, so I'm getting creative and using things we already have combined with everyday items. For some reason it feels like this year I'm a little more relaxed about getting all this stuff done, and that's kinda' nice. But apparently I can be relaxed and abuzz at the same time because as soon as I crawl into bed at night my mind goes crazy with all kinds of ideas to try the next day. I might get brave and post some pictures of our decor in the next few days.

Beyond that, last night I tossed and turned with excitement about a new prospect I'm finally moving on. For a few years I've been considering creating a gift-wrapping business for folks who don't have the time, don't enjoy, or just plain stink at wrapping gifts. It's something I really enjoy doing, so even if I don't charge a bundle I'll be coming out ahead ... and making a little spending money. A couple of friends have taken me up on the offer and this morning I picked up the first round of gifts I will wrap and then deliver back. I'm excited about getting started.

And maybe something in me knew today would be ... different. We've had a rough go of things these last couple of months and while our family is blessed in so many ways, Christmas gift giving would be tight this year. I had made peace with that. It's not about the gift giving anyway, right? But today we received some unexpected "contributions" to the Christmas budget. Gifts that will allow us to do a little more for our kids than we would have been able to otherwise.

What can I say? I am humbled. Thankful. Fortunate enough to live in a community and have family and friends who will rally to help others who need it. I know this because many times we have been on the giving end. The receiving end is decidedly less comfortable, but no less touching or heart-warming. And the kindness of others is not taken lightly in this house; I believe blessings will be showered upon those who give so generously.

That's certainly been the case for us.

Shitcanned.

I've had just over a day to process all this, so here it is.

Steve was fired. Let go. Cut loose.

Was it related to the economy? No. Work performance? Absolutely not.

Steve lost his job because of personal differences with the company's corporate blowhards. Because he is, in their words, a "disgruntled employee."

WHO DOES THAT?? What is this, the sixth grade?

Listen. We have a son who will turn 13 years old tomorrow. He's in middle school. Sam is at a point when we are teaching him it is a fact of life that he will encounter difficult people. That's just how the world works. We tell him it is his job to always handle himself appropriately and do his best to be kind and respectful to others, no matter how badly their personalities may clash. Sometimes it is helpful to simply walk away, but you can't always just gather up your toys and go home.

Unhappy relationships are tough, but even the best of relationships take work to maintain.

Steve has said working for this company is like being in a bad marriage; nobody communicates, and everybody blames someone else for any infraction.

My husband tried. For months he has set a positive example by going straight to the sources of gripes and grumbles and insisting on working through issues so everyone can move on. In his supervisory role he was probably too kind at times, giving second (or third or fourth) chances and plenty of corrective instruction in order to keep people working.

But he didn't buy into the corporate BS. He is a man of high morals and is driven by things far greater than money: Integrity. Kindness. Family. That's what I see. If you ask him? He was taught to do things the right way - to do the right thing - no matter who was or wasn't watching.

As it turns out, his former employer talks a great talk about putting people first, but their follow-through stinks. In fact, the company's motto is People first 24/7. In our house we've added to it a little: People first 24/7. Unless you're not the right people.

In an interesting twist, my brother worked for the same company, on the same crew as Steve. They fired him, too.

Oh yes they did.

WHO DOES THAT???

In the grand scheme of things we will come out on top. Today I am angry and feeling defensive, yes. (And if Steve wasn't disgruntled before, he sure is now!) Because in 17 years of working in the pipeline industry - and I mean working, putting pipe in the ground, operating equipment, not giving orders or pushing papers from an office - Steve has never come close to being fired. Ever. Has he butted heads with some higher-ups? Of course he has! That's life. The people who have to keep everything within budget and on deadline don't always see eye-to-eye with the folks who have to stand knee-deep in the mud with rain pouring down while they try to bail out the hole so they can work. That's just how it goes. But each has their job to do and most adults can learn to overlook their differences and work alongside each other toward a common goal.

So yeah. I'm pissed off that of all the crappy employees they could have chosen to weed out, they picked two of the best workers in the field. Apparently your work ethic means nothing if you refuse to drink the Kool-Aid.

Whatever. Life goes on. The natural gas industry is a great one to be in these days. Business is booming and it won't be long before both of these guys have settled into new jobs, hopefully far, far away from the corporate madness. The paychecks might be a little slimmer but as long as we can feed our family and keep the bills paid, we're good.

Yesterday I teetered briefly on the edge of madness just thinking about how we'll make it through the next few weeks. Between Steve having some time off between work projects, then coming home to be with his dad during brain surgery, and now being cut loose altogether, we are scraping the bottom of the barrel.

But then the phone started ringing ... friends sent messages of support ... prayer warriors added us to their lists ... and so many people we love collectively took my face in their hands and forced me to focus on what is important: Steve. Sam. Rachel. Me. Our faith. Our family and friends. We are warm and well fed, and we have much for which to be thankful. Praise God.

I'm no Pollyanna, but I can say with confidence today that I know everything will be OK.

Apparently, I'd like to hibernate.

'Cept I'm gonna' need some elastic-waist pants before I settle in for my slumber.

Whoa, doggies! It's a little too early for the holiday plump, isn't it? I stepped on the scale this morning (like I needed that first thing in the morning) and what was already pretty obvious to my bloated self came into sharp, digital focus.

I've put on a few pounds.

OK, literally, a few. Like, four. And listen. I'm a big girl anyway so one would think four pounds either way wouldn't make much of a difference. But I can tell you that four lousy pounds feels like 100 pounds in certain pairs of pants.

Oooooh, the comfort food. Since the weather turned very autumn-like in a hurry I've been drawn to the oven and the big ol' containers of flour and sugar sitting nearby. Yesterday, on a whim, I made several dozen pumpkin chocolate chip cookies. Ya' know ... for the kids. *wink wink*

Curse you, white flour and sugar!

And get this. I ordered a subscription to a new home decor magazine a while back? I guess there weren't enough subscriptions because said magazine flopped. So instead of sending me a refund, the company is sending me ... wait for it ... Taste of Home magazine.

Taste of Home! It's all about FOOD, people!

And I swear this is my final excuse: My walking routine has been interrupted by rain. (And perhaps *cough* a little *cough* laziness. *cough*) Yesterday my buddy and I finally got out to walk again after missing a few days and my legs felt like Jell-O the rest of the day. Sad.

I guess it's time to seriously consider an indoor workout alternative for the winter months so I'll be prepared when the snow flies and I'm too much of a sissy to wanna' walk out there. Because baby, I cannot keep this up all winter or y'all will have to roll me out of the house to greet the Easter Bunny come spring.

Now somebody hide the cookies.

Morning views.

A friend and I have been walking in the mornings after I get my kids off to school. I would say we're out there fairly early, but early is a relative term, isn't it?

Hey, 7:30 a.m. is early for me, the one whose favorite morning activity is ... sleeping.

And we've been taking our dogs. Which, if you need to get off your butt and you're looking for an accountability partner? Yeah. The dogs know when it's time to walk and they will not let you forget it.

Anywho. We've been admiring how the trees and shrubs and even the roadside weeds have been changing colors recently, so today I stopped a few times to take pictures of the different berry-covered bushes and whatnot.

I discovered I really need to go out with the sole purpose of photographing pretty things if I want the pictures to do any of them justice. "Here, hold my dog, would ya'?" while dusting the Kleenex lint off the screen of my camera phone is not the way to do it.

Ah well. Another day.

 

I did get these shots, though, which were pretty cool originally but really cool after I applied a sepia tone in my photo editor.

 

See? Sunrise photos. I told ya' it was early!

I'm wallowing.

After giving my friend B the rundown of what a crazy week we had last week, and then whining because this one had gotten off on only a slightly better note, B sent me this in an e-mail:

"Here's my unsolicited advice: after celebrating Rachel's bday, take a few more days and wallow, nap, etc. then, when you are so tired of it all, declare it over."

And that was just what I needed to read.

My friend B (I should give her a blog identity ... like Bertha ... or Beatrice) has been incredibly supportive, not just through recent life events but through ongoing struggles of parenting and attempts at self-improvement.

While I sat at my dying grandmother's bedside, B would send me e-mails (that I would pick up on my cell phone) with words of encouragement or humor, never expecting a response but making sure I knew someone was thinking of me right that moment. It meant the world to me.

So now, having gotten the permission I felt like I needed to do ... well, absolutely nothing ... I am wallowing.

I went back to bed after I got the kids off to school this morning and now I'm having a brunch of M&M's and Diet Dr. Pepper and some yogurt-covered pretzel balls carefully plucked from the bucket o' snack mix I bought last weekend. I'm tired and emotionally spent. Yesterday was my daughter's birthday and thank God I have amazing in-laws who made dinner and had cake for her - and the rest of us. We had celebrated over the weekend with a movie and meal out at Rachel's choice of places, but it's not the same as having cake on your birthday and I didn't even have the energy to go to the bakery and pick one up.

See? I have children to tend to and regular stuff that needs to be taken care of, so no matter how many people tell me to take it easy for a few days, it's hard to do just that. But I know eventually B will tell me to "suck it up, Buttercup!" and force me to put the M&M's away and get on with it. And I will. But today? And probably tomorrow? I'm wallowing. And that's that.

~ ~ ~

I need to say thank you. Thank you to all my friends and family who have prayed for us and sent good vibes our way and who called and sent messages via blog and e-mail and snail mail. It's been a week since grandma died and I promise I won't be writing about her forever but no matter how much we prepare for it - how ready we think we are - it hurts to lose someone we love. I feel like a piece of my heart is missing and it will take some time to figure out how to fill that empty space. Or to just live with it.

Anyway, thanks for your support. It's March now and spring is just around the corner and I'm inspired to do some sprucing up around the house. As soon as the wallowing is complete the fun will begin again.

Babies, babies everywhere!

Steve and I have been out of the baby business for years.

Wait. That didn't sound quite right.

Let's just say we made sure it was not physically possible to have any more children after our Rachel was born. It took me a couple of years to convince Steve it was in his our best interest to make sure it wouldn't happen. And - God bless the man - he took care of business. We love our children and I adored their sweet baby faces, but both of them just about killed me when it came time for labor and delivery (OK, that's a slight exaggeration for Child #1, but not so much for Child #2) and even the doctor who delivered Rachel asked at my six-week postnatal checkup, and I quote: "You aren't going to do this again, are you?"

I was 26 and felt blessed beyond measure to have one boy and one girl. I am now 34 and I have never regretted the deliberate decision to not have any more children.

Sam, age 3, and Rachel, 5 months.

You know what makes it easy, though? Friends who have babies!

I have been so fortunate to have plenty of girlfriends over the years who, as my babies grew into toddlerhood and beyond, have had children and who have been willing to share those babies with me so I can sniff their precious heads and squeeze their chubby little thighs. Usually 20 minutes of bouncing playfully with a laughing babe or cuddling quietly with a sleeping babe is enough to fill any void I thought I might be feeling about not having any more wee ones around the house.

In the past year alone, at least four families close to us have welcomed new babies into their worlds and I have just about burst with joy for each of them. Having a baby - or another baby, or a third or fourth baby - changes our lives forever and I am so glad to be able to celebrate with friends as they become parents.

The latest of the new additions occurred just this morning, and I am elated for our friends A & J. I can't wait to hold their sweet baby girl and hug my friends and welcome them to the most rewarding, exhausting, exhilarating, frustrating, heartwarming, insanity-inducing, blessed job in the world: parenthood.

Best summer ever.

There was one particular summer during my college years that always sticks out in my mind as my best summer ever. It was the first year I was out on my own which meant lots of responsibility and at the same time, no major responsibilities. Steve and I were dating. It was a crazy hot summer. We spent lots of time at the river, swimming upstream then floating down to the landing. I hung out with friends every minute I wasn't working one of the four jobs I had. I sported a sweet tan.

My heart and mind have compared every year since then to that one amazing year. There have been many that turned out pretty awesome, but none that made me feel as free as I did or love life as much as I did that summer.

But this summer is coming pretty close.

It's been a long time since I felt so good about where I am in life. That's not to say life hasn't been good to me or for me lately, because it certainly has and I have definitely felt good about it and grateful for it. It's difficult to put into words how this feeling is a little bit different. It's not about our social status or our economic status, or about having minimal stress or having cleared lots of clutter from our lives. And because I am married and have children and a lot more responsibilities than I did that summer *cough*fifteen*cough* years ago, the things that make me happy are now very different. Now it's all about making memories with my children. I want them to look back on this summer and remember it as one of the best summers of their lives.

Shoot, who am I kidding? I'd be happy if they remember any of their childhood summers with a hint of fondness.

I remember certain summer days of my childhood that still influence how I interact with my kids. I loved those hot summer evenings when mom would tell us to load up in the motorhome and we'd pick up Chinese takeout (back when Chinese takeout was still new and fun in our small town) or pizzas and pop (back when Pizza Hut had those drink coolers they'd refill really cheaply - or was it free? - when you brought it in. Anyone remember that?) and she would take us to the dunes on Lake Michigan where we would eat, then run out into the water and swim until dad met up with us after work. Or there were the days when mom would pack lunches and all the beach gear and we would meet her girlfriends and their children at the beach and swim and play all day.

There is nothing like the kind of exhaustion you feel after you've been in the water and sun all day long. I still love that kind of exhaustion, and I love what it does to my kids. It's like a sweet, happy fog rolls in and everybody falls swiftly into dreamland a little earlier than usual, toes still sandy and hair still damp.

That happy dreamland is calling this evening and I can't wait to get there.

Today was a good day.

Must be magic.

That call or e-mail from the friend you haven't seen in ages.

That friend who knows you inside and out and who, when you see her again, will seamlessly continue that conversation the two of you started six months ago.

The message that says, "hey, I miss you. Everything is the same and everything is different. Wish we lived closer so we could have coffee today" without ever really saying any of those words.

The message that makes you laugh and feel like you've gotten a hug and that someone thinks you are special, all at the same time.

All wonderful.

But getting that call or that message at just the right time on a day when you really need it? That's some sort of magic.

I don't know how it works, but I'm so glad it does.