Sunday, January 29, 2012
Friday, January 27, 2012
rainy days
While lying in bed Wednesday night, me trying desperately to sleep {sleep, I miss you} and Lofton just wrapping up his Hunger Games reading for the night {No you did not misread that statement. Lofton has been reading}, he said something that made me laugh out loud.
I’m tired of 2012 already. It sucks.
Mmmhmmm. Me too. And it’s only January.
But you know what I’m learning, friends? Life goes on. Life goes on when your bank account is low, when work is overwhelming, when your husband barks at you because the dogs tore up the vacuum, when your Daddy has cancer, and when your toddler is cutting four molars at one time. You’ve got to keep trucking.
And there have been some delightful moments this week, so I’m choosing to focus on those...
First up, we took a certain teething tyke to the AU basketball game last Saturday. It was wonderful. The tickets were free {scholarship section!} and the company was perfect. We did miss nap time, which if you are my friend on facebook you already know. Reese decided to take an impromptu nap at Publix. In the cart. Cause my child can’t miss a nap. Ever.
We also wrapped up our makeover the office project. Peaceful place to do taxes, pay bills, and blog? Yes, I think I like it. And it was free.
Wednesday I might have had a mini panic attack at school. Which then escalated when my little brother took a tumble off his skateboard and ended up in the ER for some stitches. Oh Jackson, why must you partake in such dangerous activities?
But to end the week there have been encouraging words from friends, notes and treats in my school mailbox to lift my spirits, and even flowers from my husband {see note on him barking at me above}. Bright shining spots in this rainy season of life.
Cause there is always sunshine after rain...
I’m tired of 2012 already. It sucks.
Mmmhmmm. Me too. And it’s only January.
But you know what I’m learning, friends? Life goes on. Life goes on when your bank account is low, when work is overwhelming, when your husband barks at you because the dogs tore up the vacuum, when your Daddy has cancer, and when your toddler is cutting four molars at one time. You’ve got to keep trucking.
And there have been some delightful moments this week, so I’m choosing to focus on those...
First up, we took a certain teething tyke to the AU basketball game last Saturday. It was wonderful. The tickets were free {scholarship section!} and the company was perfect. We did miss nap time, which if you are my friend on facebook you already know. Reese decided to take an impromptu nap at Publix. In the cart. Cause my child can’t miss a nap. Ever.
We also wrapped up our makeover the office project. Peaceful place to do taxes, pay bills, and blog? Yes, I think I like it. And it was free.
Wednesday I might have had a mini panic attack at school. Which then escalated when my little brother took a tumble off his skateboard and ended up in the ER for some stitches. Oh Jackson, why must you partake in such dangerous activities?
But to end the week there have been encouraging words from friends, notes and treats in my school mailbox to lift my spirits, and even flowers from my husband {see note on him barking at me above}. Bright shining spots in this rainy season of life.
Cause there is always sunshine after rain...
Saturday, January 21, 2012
these things should come with a warning
Lest you think we're all sad and no glad around here, I'm offering up a Reese story sure to make you giggle.
Sunday night, we left Pensacola right at Reese's bedtime. I thought I had looked in every room before we left, checking for stray belongings, but i was mistaken. About 45 minutes after departure, Mama text me to say that she had found Reese's shoes in her room.
Hell's bells.
You see, Reese has boxy feet. Wide, yes, but also tall. Does that make sense? He can't just wear any old shoe. In fact, the only running shoes I've found that fit his feet are New Balance-- extra wide. He also has his boots, but he's really attached to his tennis shoes lately.
No problem, fabulous Mama said she'd take them to UPS and get them sent our way lickety split. Except UPS really values their services these days, if you know what I mean. Yikes on shipping costs! Scratch that plan and on to option B. Mama gave me her debit card number to buy Reese some new shoes. Three cheers for Mama and for endless.com {free overnight shipping?, yes please}.
His new shoes arrived Wednesday. Shiny, new tennis shoes. {Do you remember how exciting it was to get new shoes when you were younger? I always wore white keds, but i digress.} Reese, of course, put them on immediately. He insists they make him run faster, kick higher, and jump taller. Oh to be three!
Flash forward to Thursday afternoon when I arrived at school to find him with a bruised eye, ice bag on face. I'm pretty much a pro at signing accident reports for this kid, so I breezed through it and we got in the car.
I asked him, "Buddy, what happened to your eye?" His reply? "Mama, my new kicks make me run so fast that I just runned right into Rankin!" I about died. And to follow that he told me, "And there was nobody at school to love on me. I think I need a treat." And so we went to Target. What? Don't judge me.
Sunday night, we left Pensacola right at Reese's bedtime. I thought I had looked in every room before we left, checking for stray belongings, but i was mistaken. About 45 minutes after departure, Mama text me to say that she had found Reese's shoes in her room.
Hell's bells.
You see, Reese has boxy feet. Wide, yes, but also tall. Does that make sense? He can't just wear any old shoe. In fact, the only running shoes I've found that fit his feet are New Balance-- extra wide. He also has his boots, but he's really attached to his tennis shoes lately.
No problem, fabulous Mama said she'd take them to UPS and get them sent our way lickety split. Except UPS really values their services these days, if you know what I mean. Yikes on shipping costs! Scratch that plan and on to option B. Mama gave me her debit card number to buy Reese some new shoes. Three cheers for Mama and for endless.com {free overnight shipping?, yes please}.
His new shoes arrived Wednesday. Shiny, new tennis shoes. {Do you remember how exciting it was to get new shoes when you were younger? I always wore white keds, but i digress.} Reese, of course, put them on immediately. He insists they make him run faster, kick higher, and jump taller. Oh to be three!
Flash forward to Thursday afternoon when I arrived at school to find him with a bruised eye, ice bag on face. I'm pretty much a pro at signing accident reports for this kid, so I breezed through it and we got in the car.
I asked him, "Buddy, what happened to your eye?" His reply? "Mama, my new kicks make me run so fast that I just runned right into Rankin!" I about died. And to follow that he told me, "And there was nobody at school to love on me. I think I need a treat." And so we went to Target. What? Don't judge me.
Friday, January 13, 2012
raw
I started this blog {eeek almost 4 years ago!} as a way to document my new journey as a mama; all the pregnancy adventures, the good, bad & crazy hormonal moments, and then finally the birth and journey of our precious boy.
As time has passed, the blog has become a little less scrapbook and a little more journal. I occasionally vacillate over sharing something, but usually do anyway, because for me, writing is cathartic.
In that vein of thought, I’d like to share a bit of news that has recently uprooted our little world; my dad has cancer.
He had surgery on Tuesday of this week and is recovering at home. We are still in the early stages of diagnosis, so there isn’t a lot of information to share. It’s treatable, although we don’t know exactly what treatment plan we’ll take. We’re being positive, as positive as you can be when you’re completely blindsided by something like this. And I’m a little bit of a mess, as you can imagine.
In typical me fashion, I’d like to pat myself on the back for being so together when I went home for my dad’s surgery. I was strong, brave, and totally a daughter rock star. My parents were seriously impressed.
I wish I could be like that all the time, but my shell has kind of cracked over the past two days. I have not been the most shining example of a wife this week. I’m exhausted and frustrated and sad and all sorts of other things rolled into one girl. I want to stand on my rooftop and shout that this isn’t fair, that my dad doesn’t deserve this, that there are lots of really awful people in the world walking around as healthy as horses whom deserve this a lot more. And I know that isn’t very mature, or kind, of Christian of me. But, well, it’s how I feel.
My saving grace this week has been a little pint sized three year old. I raced back to Opelika Wednesday morning to scoop him up before his nap. He burst into tears when he saw me, and I did the same. We really missed each other. I’ve spent a lot of the past few nights snuggling, and holding, and receiving lots of extra kisses. Something about the routine and normalcy of picking him up, arguing over the fruit snacks he insists on eating immediately upon entering the door, fixing him dinner and tucking him into bed are comforting. We told him as much as we thought he could understand—that Buck had surgery because he wasn’t feeling well so now he has to rest. No back rides or football games for a little while. Reese is fine with that explanation, which means there is no more needed.
This is a journey that no one ever wants to travel, this I realize. I lost my both paternal grandparents to cancer at a very young age, so the reality of what cancer does to individuals & families is not lost on me. The type of cancer my dad has been diagnosed with has around a 90% survival rate and that is a statistic we are going to cling to.
As time has passed, the blog has become a little less scrapbook and a little more journal. I occasionally vacillate over sharing something, but usually do anyway, because for me, writing is cathartic.
In that vein of thought, I’d like to share a bit of news that has recently uprooted our little world; my dad has cancer.
He had surgery on Tuesday of this week and is recovering at home. We are still in the early stages of diagnosis, so there isn’t a lot of information to share. It’s treatable, although we don’t know exactly what treatment plan we’ll take. We’re being positive, as positive as you can be when you’re completely blindsided by something like this. And I’m a little bit of a mess, as you can imagine.
In typical me fashion, I’d like to pat myself on the back for being so together when I went home for my dad’s surgery. I was strong, brave, and totally a daughter rock star. My parents were seriously impressed.
I wish I could be like that all the time, but my shell has kind of cracked over the past two days. I have not been the most shining example of a wife this week. I’m exhausted and frustrated and sad and all sorts of other things rolled into one girl. I want to stand on my rooftop and shout that this isn’t fair, that my dad doesn’t deserve this, that there are lots of really awful people in the world walking around as healthy as horses whom deserve this a lot more. And I know that isn’t very mature, or kind, of Christian of me. But, well, it’s how I feel.
My saving grace this week has been a little pint sized three year old. I raced back to Opelika Wednesday morning to scoop him up before his nap. He burst into tears when he saw me, and I did the same. We really missed each other. I’ve spent a lot of the past few nights snuggling, and holding, and receiving lots of extra kisses. Something about the routine and normalcy of picking him up, arguing over the fruit snacks he insists on eating immediately upon entering the door, fixing him dinner and tucking him into bed are comforting. We told him as much as we thought he could understand—that Buck had surgery because he wasn’t feeling well so now he has to rest. No back rides or football games for a little while. Reese is fine with that explanation, which means there is no more needed.
This is a journey that no one ever wants to travel, this I realize. I lost my both paternal grandparents to cancer at a very young age, so the reality of what cancer does to individuals & families is not lost on me. The type of cancer my dad has been diagnosed with has around a 90% survival rate and that is a statistic we are going to cling to.
Lofton, Reese & I are going to head back to Pensacola tomorrow so that he can share his sweet love with my parents, too. We could all use a pint-sized diversion.
Tuesday, January 10, 2012
Sunday, January 8, 2012
a little makeover
When we moved into our house, the office quickly became a junk holding room. Anything that didn't have an immediate place {like dishes} or need immediate use {like my laminating machine} went into the office.
It was a hot mess.
My parents kindly purchased us a desk in the fall, and it sat, in the hot mess, until this weekend when the hubs decided to take action.
He cleaned out the room, painted and put my desk together. Because he loves me like that.
A quick before:
A nice shade of blue. Actually the same blue we used in our bedroom-- plumage by MS. We had an extra gallon and I just like it. Reason enough.
My beloved IKEA bookshelves:
It was a hot mess.
My parents kindly purchased us a desk in the fall, and it sat, in the hot mess, until this weekend when the hubs decided to take action.
He cleaned out the room, painted and put my desk together. Because he loves me like that.
A quick before:
Can you believe that our living room and hallway were once this neon sunshine yellow? It hurts my eyes just to think about it.
And now:
My beloved IKEA bookshelves:
Pretty books, important office things, and an empty picture frame. Don't judge.
We haven't hung our diplomas or any other art on the walls, so I'll wait for the desk shot. I'm also itching to replace the giant fluorescent light. Eww. I'm just so thankful to have somewhere to pay bills and plug in the computer. You don't even know. My uber-organized heart has been aching.
And another small update....
Finally got around to hanging some things above Reese's beds.
A few letters spray painted gray and two DIY prints. Yep, made them myself with Reese and I's song lyrics.
You are My Sunshine. It's our favorite. If you'd like me to make you some {I can even do a different song/poem}, shoot me a message.
I really love how it all turned out. I need to get him a new lamp, but I haven't found one that I love yet.
And that, my friends, concludes our weekend house updates. Is tomorrow Monday, again?
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
goal setting
I have a friend. A really lovely, considerate, pregnant friend. She and her doctor husband hosted our brood {yes all of us—including dogs} over the New Year’s weekend. We had a delightful time. But this post isn’t about that, exactly.
Yesterday, my lovely pregnant friend posted on her blog about the new year, about dreams and disappointments, goals and realizations. She summed up her post with a word; a goal word of sorts that she is going to keep at the forefront of her mind as she travels this 2012 path. Her word was intentional.
Little did my friend know that I had been thinking along the same lines after seeing a Pinterest activity of the same sort. {Oh pinterest, why so consuming?}
I’m not one for resolutions. Although I’m quite big on short and long term goals, resolutions have never really worked out for me. Sure, I’d love the be healthier, be neater, maybe stop biting my finger nails, but in the long run that stuff never happens. Life is life.
Last year I strived for balance. A balance of me. Of being a mama, a wife, a friend, a daughter, and a teacher. I think focusing on that one goal helped me to recenter and refocus; as a type A multi-tasker I could always do better, but I’m satisfied with my effort.
With this new year comes a new goal, and a new word: present.
You see, my multitasking self is forever juggling. Cooking while talking on the phone, bath time with making a grocery list, grading papers while talking to Lofton about our days... and while able to do all those things is useful, it means I'm never really focusing on one thing, one moment. I'm never really present.
No longer. Bath time is for splashing, for listening to crazy made up stories about dinosaur sponges. Talking to Lofton is about sharing my day and learning about his, really listening because that's what keeps our marriage tank full and functioning.
I vow to be present, to be in the moment, to enjoy the little everyday moments more. Because soon my little moment maker won't have dinosaur stories and splash parties in the tub, he'll have football games and girlfriends and slumber parties with his big boy friends.
Present.
Yesterday, my lovely pregnant friend posted on her blog about the new year, about dreams and disappointments, goals and realizations. She summed up her post with a word; a goal word of sorts that she is going to keep at the forefront of her mind as she travels this 2012 path. Her word was intentional.
Little did my friend know that I had been thinking along the same lines after seeing a Pinterest activity of the same sort. {Oh pinterest, why so consuming?}
I’m not one for resolutions. Although I’m quite big on short and long term goals, resolutions have never really worked out for me. Sure, I’d love the be healthier, be neater, maybe stop biting my finger nails, but in the long run that stuff never happens. Life is life.
Last year I strived for balance. A balance of me. Of being a mama, a wife, a friend, a daughter, and a teacher. I think focusing on that one goal helped me to recenter and refocus; as a type A multi-tasker I could always do better, but I’m satisfied with my effort.
With this new year comes a new goal, and a new word: present.
You see, my multitasking self is forever juggling. Cooking while talking on the phone, bath time with making a grocery list, grading papers while talking to Lofton about our days... and while able to do all those things is useful, it means I'm never really focusing on one thing, one moment. I'm never really present.
No longer. Bath time is for splashing, for listening to crazy made up stories about dinosaur sponges. Talking to Lofton is about sharing my day and learning about his, really listening because that's what keeps our marriage tank full and functioning.
I vow to be present, to be in the moment, to enjoy the little everyday moments more. Because soon my little moment maker won't have dinosaur stories and splash parties in the tub, he'll have football games and girlfriends and slumber parties with his big boy friends.
Present.
Monday, January 2, 2012
shake your tail feather it's 2012
Happy New Year, friends!
I, for one, am looking forward to 2012. As Lofton and I discussed yesterday, 2011 was really not that kind to us. There were high points, certainly, but the bad outweighed the good. Bring on 2012. We're ready.
Moving on.
Today Lofton & I thought it be fun to start Reese's new year with a little toe surgery. As expected, he did not think it was so fun. In fact, to quote him directly, "Mama, I do not like this at all." We hope that after having Dr. Glaze dig yucky green stuff out of his toe, he understands biting plus toenails equals pain.
No worries. A little snuggling on the couch {combined with some PBS cartoons} and Reese will be good as new. {side note: why is PBS so awesome? Dinosaur Train, Sesame Street, Super Why... amazing and educational.}
Soaking up these last two days with my boys. Although I miss my eighteen kiddos at school, I needed this break badly. My batteries and spirit seem to have been somewhat recharged.
Wednesday will be a slap in the face for this mama and precious three year old. Keep us in your prayers as we readjust. Deep breathing and lots of tissue in my future.
I, for one, am looking forward to 2012. As Lofton and I discussed yesterday, 2011 was really not that kind to us. There were high points, certainly, but the bad outweighed the good. Bring on 2012. We're ready.
Moving on.
Today Lofton & I thought it be fun to start Reese's new year with a little toe surgery. As expected, he did not think it was so fun. In fact, to quote him directly, "Mama, I do not like this at all." We hope that after having Dr. Glaze dig yucky green stuff out of his toe, he understands biting plus toenails equals pain.
No worries. A little snuggling on the couch {combined with some PBS cartoons} and Reese will be good as new. {side note: why is PBS so awesome? Dinosaur Train, Sesame Street, Super Why... amazing and educational.}
Soaking up these last two days with my boys. Although I miss my eighteen kiddos at school, I needed this break badly. My batteries and spirit seem to have been somewhat recharged.
Wednesday will be a slap in the face for this mama and precious three year old. Keep us in your prayers as we readjust. Deep breathing and lots of tissue in my future.
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