A few weeks ago, I felt like we were flailing. Flailing as in...drowning. Getting home, the house was a mess, I was stressed, and dinner was not only not on the stove, it was still in the freezer. After a few days of the "go go go" it hit me...my priorities were totally out of whack.
Let me explain...life is all about priorities. How you spend your money--priorities. How you spend your time--priorities. How you raise your kids--priorities (lets be real--we can't be the perfect parent and teach them EVERYTHING...so we prioritize and teach them what we feel is the most important. Example: "Oh, he's jumping off the arm of the couch onto the couch? No biggie." but...."Oh, he's running into the street? BIG DEAL).
My priority was my calendar. I've never thrived with an empty calendar. I love to be busy, and I love to invest in those around me. Relationships are important to me.
I didn't think I was over-committed. And technically, I wasn't. I wasn't double booked, I wasn't skipping naptime for my child...yet, there was a sense of chaos that I felt like I couldn't control. And that's when it hit me: I wanted calm in my home more than I wanted to fill my calendar.
I wanted my ducks in a row. I wanted my laundry done. I wanted my dishes clean. I wanted the floors clean. I wanted my car to NOT be a total disaster. I wanted to have dinner on the stove and serve it in a reasonable fashion where we all sit down and eat together rather than throwing anything we can find together. I wanted my bills to be filed away rather than sitting in a heap on my desk. I wanted for my husband to walk through the door and for me to greet him with, "I've got things handled here! How was your day, dahling??" <---In this theory, I may or may not be a 1950s housewife wearing pearls...HA! But, SERIOUSLY...I didn't want to be a hot mess when he got home.
Don't get me wrong...we have had that life in the past--you know, a calm one. When Mason was a baby and didn't require as many activities and social things to entertain him, we were home a lot more. He also wasn't as quick on his feet, so I had more time to devote to keeping a house. But now, with school for him three mornings a week, me volunteering, keeping up with friends, grocery shopping, and the general tasks that I do to keep the house going...it was all just too much.
So, I started my own mantra ..really, it's to put myself first. Each morning I ask myself: What can I do today to choose calm over chaos?
Some days, that means forgoing a social opportunity so that I can take care of my chores. Or skipping a trip to target (who doesn't love going to target), so that I can have dinner on the table on time. Or saying no to things so that I can say yes to myself and my family. Or being diligent about meal planning and grocery shopping--my least favorite task of all.
While being out and about, volunteering my time, helping others, and staying busy fulfills me, none of it is worth my home being in a state of chaos and disarray. I am not my best self when my house is a wreck.
So, I've noticed over the past few weeks that as I repeat to myself--What can I do today to choose calm over chaos, that I can avoid a lot of stress, anxiety, and frankly, I'm a happier person.
For some, they don't mind a messy home and would be MUCH more fed with social obligations and a busy calendar...and hey, that's cool. Different strokes for different folks!
But for me, I'm choosing calm over chaos this holiday season. Because, my sanity is worth it. Because I'M worth it. And because the members of my family are worth it.
So, if I've been out of pocket or off the radar lately, it's simply because I'm making an effort to order my home, my life, and my responsibilities rather than fill my calendar. Doesn't mean friends aren't important, but life just gets busy with a toddler and two dogs (that require quite a bit of time and energy as well and make cleaning a DAILY thing). In fact, asking myself the question of how I can choose calm over chaos is kind of empowering. It is a guilt free way for me to not only prioritize myself, but also my family. Because we all know, if momma ain't happy, nobody is! And isn't that my number one priority in the end? Cultivating a wonderful home that my husband looks forward to coming home to and my son feels loved and secure in?? After all, his sense of what normal is--well, that is being shaped every day. I want his "normal" to be a well run, well organized home, full of love, fun, laughter, and plenty of TIME to enjoy each other. Particularly around the holidays. Not a stressed mom with a full calendar.
This one question allows me to live my life in a more intentional way. I share this because it's really such a fantastic question for those of us who feel like life might be spinning a bit faster than we would like!
Happy Holidays, my friends!
Wednesday, December 4, 2013
Tuesday, September 10, 2013
The hard stuff. The good stuff.
Once again, I have failed to update this blog for months. *sigh*
But, I find myself sitting here, alone, watching cheesy chick flicks and listening to my lab snore.
Tomorrow is my dad's birthday. Only, this year, he isn't with us to celebrate. My dad died of cancer earlier this summer. We started the year with him healthy (so we thought), and only found out two months prior to his passing that he had terminal cancer. It was all a blur.
I remember rocking my son at night the few weeks after we found out. It was so hard for me to rock him because all I could think about was how, for my dad, rocking us as kids (to him) felt like yesterday. While rocking my munchkin, my thoughts would drift between the sadness of my dad aging, and dying, and how quickly the next thirty years will pass for me.
Then, I took the munchkin home to Texas so we could hang out with family. We didn't know how bad it was. Within weeks, dad was in the hospital dying.
About a week after the funeral, the munchkin and I returned to our home--Virginia. And life went on. There were errands, playdates, naps, grocery trips, and chores. And as time went on, I noticed a change in my toddler. He was more defiant. More difficult. Angry. Insecure.
People kept telling me that perhaps he was somehow reacting to me grieving. I was perplexed. I mean, I know they say that kids sense things, but I wasn't crying in front of him, and I was absolutely trying my best.
But still...he was different.
So, I dug deep. Smiles, grins, cheery dispositions, and lots of patience...and there wasn't much of a change from him at all.
Until it hit me--I hadn't been rocking him.
So, I did.
Rocking a baby gives you time to think. Time to sing. Time to pray. Time to ponder. Rocking him was hard. Hard because I missed my dad. Hard because it made me realize just how quickly life passes. Hard because I knew that in the blink of an eye, I could be lying in the hospital. But you know what? I noticed a change in the toddler. He seemed happier. More secure. I only rocked him for 5-10 minutes each night. It was just "our time."
But the more I thought about it, the more I realized, blessings hide in hard stuff.
Whether it's marriage, raising kids, working, dealing with family, life--it's hard.
My dad wouldn't disagree. When he told us stories about the times he remembered us as kids, the stories were either funny and carefree times, or they were full of "hard"...full of challenge. Full of lessons.
Whether it was the time he made my brother burn every single pokemon card for telling a lie (which was really hard for my dad), or canceling my twelfth birthday party as a consequence, or sitting up with us through the night when we were sick as babies, or, on faith alone, uprooting his family, moving 2000 miles, and starting his own business. Hard. Dealing with lay offs, siblings dying, bills, parenting decisions, coaching. Life. Hard.
But, the beauty is in the mess. The mess of raising babies with the one you love. The mess of figuring out how to be a grown up (sheesh!). The mess of dealing with loss. The loss of a pet. The loss of a friend. The loss of a dream. Hard. The mess of learning to love and live with the same person--to accept them and see the sides of them that they don't want anyone to see.
And my blessing for choosing the "hard" and rocking my munchkin? I got my kid back.
When people stop me in the grocery store, and say, "You'll miss these days" what they really mean is, "I remember how hard it was but the hard was SO worth it."
But, the truth is, my blessings outweigh my hard ten-fold. Sure, I am dealing with grief. But, I get to grieve a great man. A man who was my daddy for thirty years. A man who was always my number one fan on the field/court/stage. A man who taught me how I should be treated. A man who loved us unconditionally. A man who sacrificed and put us first. I'm sad because my dad was so great and I miss him so much. I'm frustrated because I have a beautiful child who is healthy and rambunctious. The frustration of raising this toddler is refining me and making me a better person--one tantrum at a time. The feeling of loneliness is tempered by the fact that because I am far from family, my husband is my best friend. My marriage is wonderful, beautiful, amazing, and it's the marriage of my dreams--because of the hard stuff.
So, I will embrace the hard stuff. Because I know, that the hard stuff is making me better. Stronger. Braver. And the hard stuff is actually blessing me along the way.
My dad would have been 60 tomorrow. I know that he's looking down, and rooting for me. At every turn--when I am at a loss as to how to handle a challenging toddler, or dealing with the sadness, I know that he's there. Supporting me. And, as hard as it is that he's not available for me to call, what a blessing that I know he's always there.
So, tomorrow--I will not ignore the hard. I will listen to great music. I will drive with the sunroof back. I'll enjoy being out at dusk--dad's favorite time of day. And I will not let sadness reign.
Happiest of Birthdays Dad. You're the best, and life without you is hard. But, still good. Full of blessings.
But, I find myself sitting here, alone, watching cheesy chick flicks and listening to my lab snore.
Tomorrow is my dad's birthday. Only, this year, he isn't with us to celebrate. My dad died of cancer earlier this summer. We started the year with him healthy (so we thought), and only found out two months prior to his passing that he had terminal cancer. It was all a blur.
I remember rocking my son at night the few weeks after we found out. It was so hard for me to rock him because all I could think about was how, for my dad, rocking us as kids (to him) felt like yesterday. While rocking my munchkin, my thoughts would drift between the sadness of my dad aging, and dying, and how quickly the next thirty years will pass for me.
Then, I took the munchkin home to Texas so we could hang out with family. We didn't know how bad it was. Within weeks, dad was in the hospital dying.
About a week after the funeral, the munchkin and I returned to our home--Virginia. And life went on. There were errands, playdates, naps, grocery trips, and chores. And as time went on, I noticed a change in my toddler. He was more defiant. More difficult. Angry. Insecure.
People kept telling me that perhaps he was somehow reacting to me grieving. I was perplexed. I mean, I know they say that kids sense things, but I wasn't crying in front of him, and I was absolutely trying my best.
But still...he was different.
So, I dug deep. Smiles, grins, cheery dispositions, and lots of patience...and there wasn't much of a change from him at all.
Until it hit me--I hadn't been rocking him.
So, I did.
Rocking a baby gives you time to think. Time to sing. Time to pray. Time to ponder. Rocking him was hard. Hard because I missed my dad. Hard because it made me realize just how quickly life passes. Hard because I knew that in the blink of an eye, I could be lying in the hospital. But you know what? I noticed a change in the toddler. He seemed happier. More secure. I only rocked him for 5-10 minutes each night. It was just "our time."
But the more I thought about it, the more I realized, blessings hide in hard stuff.
Whether it's marriage, raising kids, working, dealing with family, life--it's hard.
My dad wouldn't disagree. When he told us stories about the times he remembered us as kids, the stories were either funny and carefree times, or they were full of "hard"...full of challenge. Full of lessons.
Whether it was the time he made my brother burn every single pokemon card for telling a lie (which was really hard for my dad), or canceling my twelfth birthday party as a consequence, or sitting up with us through the night when we were sick as babies, or, on faith alone, uprooting his family, moving 2000 miles, and starting his own business. Hard. Dealing with lay offs, siblings dying, bills, parenting decisions, coaching. Life. Hard.
But, the beauty is in the mess. The mess of raising babies with the one you love. The mess of figuring out how to be a grown up (sheesh!). The mess of dealing with loss. The loss of a pet. The loss of a friend. The loss of a dream. Hard. The mess of learning to love and live with the same person--to accept them and see the sides of them that they don't want anyone to see.
And my blessing for choosing the "hard" and rocking my munchkin? I got my kid back.
When people stop me in the grocery store, and say, "You'll miss these days" what they really mean is, "I remember how hard it was but the hard was SO worth it."
But, the truth is, my blessings outweigh my hard ten-fold. Sure, I am dealing with grief. But, I get to grieve a great man. A man who was my daddy for thirty years. A man who was always my number one fan on the field/court/stage. A man who taught me how I should be treated. A man who loved us unconditionally. A man who sacrificed and put us first. I'm sad because my dad was so great and I miss him so much. I'm frustrated because I have a beautiful child who is healthy and rambunctious. The frustration of raising this toddler is refining me and making me a better person--one tantrum at a time. The feeling of loneliness is tempered by the fact that because I am far from family, my husband is my best friend. My marriage is wonderful, beautiful, amazing, and it's the marriage of my dreams--because of the hard stuff.
So, I will embrace the hard stuff. Because I know, that the hard stuff is making me better. Stronger. Braver. And the hard stuff is actually blessing me along the way.
My dad would have been 60 tomorrow. I know that he's looking down, and rooting for me. At every turn--when I am at a loss as to how to handle a challenging toddler, or dealing with the sadness, I know that he's there. Supporting me. And, as hard as it is that he's not available for me to call, what a blessing that I know he's always there.
So, tomorrow--I will not ignore the hard. I will listen to great music. I will drive with the sunroof back. I'll enjoy being out at dusk--dad's favorite time of day. And I will not let sadness reign.
Happiest of Birthdays Dad. You're the best, and life without you is hard. But, still good. Full of blessings.
Friday, May 31, 2013
The Last Day of School
The last day of school has always been a bit sad for me.
When I was a student, it was sad to say goodbye to teachers and friends for the summers. Sad to know another year was in the books and that the next year would be different. Sad that I was one year closer to being "done" with my school years.
When I was a teacher, it was sad to say goodbye to my kids. Don't get me wrong, I really enjoyed my summers, but when you teach, each year is different. You learn to love those little personalities in your class. You build relationships. Bonds. It's heartbreaking to let them go.
Now that I'm a mom, it's really sad. My little one is only in Preschool, but the last day of school marks the passing of time. Growing up. Knowing that I'll never get this year or this age back. If you would have asked me a year ago how I felt about my baby growing up, there would be no sadness involved. In fact, all of the moms that I was friends with seemed sad when their babies hit a milestone. They were happy to celebrate the milestone, but there was an underlying sadness that their baby was growing up. I never felt this way. At all. From birth until about the age of 2, I was NEVER sad when the munchkin hit a milestone. Only relieved to have another under the belt as we marched towards childhood and out of baby and toddlerhood.
Now, I feel different. I think it's because I am not a "baby" person. I LOVE holding babies...and playing with babies...but having one ALL THE TIME is different. It makes sense too, because when my husband and I decided that we wanted to grow our family, I didn't picture myself with a baby. I pictured myself with a handful of KIDS. Playing sports. Activities. Having conversations over dinner. Spending quality time together.
In the past few weeks, my child is quickly growing out of the toddler phase. We can have conversations--not deep, meaningful life changing conversations, but he can communicate with me. Which is so cool! We can sit down and watch a short movie together--with popcorn or a treat. We can share something with him--like bubbles, or building a sandcastle and he is in awe! A few months ago, he wasn't interested in any of that...only movement and physical challenges--which was so hard and exhausting for us.
Now that he is entering that "kid" phase...the sadness and nostalgia has hit. This is his last day of school for this year. I'll never get these days back. My baby isn't a baby anymore, and as we move forward, time will only speed up. How silly is it to be sad about being an empty-nester when your child is 2?!?!
And older adults agree. Their advice is full of, "enjoy it now, it passes all too quickly" and "it goes by so fast" which are two phrases that can send an exhausted mom in the trenches into a tirade!! But it's true. And deep down we all know it. Older women stare longingly at me and the munchkin in the grocery store and I can tell by the look on their face that they are missing their baby. The sweet days when they had their baby home with them. When I see their faces, I know it's real. This feeling that the days are long, but the years are short.
This time we get with our children is short. And then, all too soon, they are off--and living their own life.
So, my challenge for the summer is to live in the moment. Be kind and patient. Be fun and adventurous. And soak it in. Because before I know it, school will be starting up again.
Happy Last day of School to all the mommas, teachers, and kids out there! May you all have a beautiful summer!
When I was a student, it was sad to say goodbye to teachers and friends for the summers. Sad to know another year was in the books and that the next year would be different. Sad that I was one year closer to being "done" with my school years.
When I was a teacher, it was sad to say goodbye to my kids. Don't get me wrong, I really enjoyed my summers, but when you teach, each year is different. You learn to love those little personalities in your class. You build relationships. Bonds. It's heartbreaking to let them go.
Now that I'm a mom, it's really sad. My little one is only in Preschool, but the last day of school marks the passing of time. Growing up. Knowing that I'll never get this year or this age back. If you would have asked me a year ago how I felt about my baby growing up, there would be no sadness involved. In fact, all of the moms that I was friends with seemed sad when their babies hit a milestone. They were happy to celebrate the milestone, but there was an underlying sadness that their baby was growing up. I never felt this way. At all. From birth until about the age of 2, I was NEVER sad when the munchkin hit a milestone. Only relieved to have another under the belt as we marched towards childhood and out of baby and toddlerhood.
Now, I feel different. I think it's because I am not a "baby" person. I LOVE holding babies...and playing with babies...but having one ALL THE TIME is different. It makes sense too, because when my husband and I decided that we wanted to grow our family, I didn't picture myself with a baby. I pictured myself with a handful of KIDS. Playing sports. Activities. Having conversations over dinner. Spending quality time together.
In the past few weeks, my child is quickly growing out of the toddler phase. We can have conversations--not deep, meaningful life changing conversations, but he can communicate with me. Which is so cool! We can sit down and watch a short movie together--with popcorn or a treat. We can share something with him--like bubbles, or building a sandcastle and he is in awe! A few months ago, he wasn't interested in any of that...only movement and physical challenges--which was so hard and exhausting for us.
Now that he is entering that "kid" phase...the sadness and nostalgia has hit. This is his last day of school for this year. I'll never get these days back. My baby isn't a baby anymore, and as we move forward, time will only speed up. How silly is it to be sad about being an empty-nester when your child is 2?!?!
And older adults agree. Their advice is full of, "enjoy it now, it passes all too quickly" and "it goes by so fast" which are two phrases that can send an exhausted mom in the trenches into a tirade!! But it's true. And deep down we all know it. Older women stare longingly at me and the munchkin in the grocery store and I can tell by the look on their face that they are missing their baby. The sweet days when they had their baby home with them. When I see their faces, I know it's real. This feeling that the days are long, but the years are short.
This time we get with our children is short. And then, all too soon, they are off--and living their own life.
So, my challenge for the summer is to live in the moment. Be kind and patient. Be fun and adventurous. And soak it in. Because before I know it, school will be starting up again.
Happy Last day of School to all the mommas, teachers, and kids out there! May you all have a beautiful summer!
Monday, May 6, 2013
What is motherhood?
Throughout my life, whenever I'm about to move into a new phase of life--whether it be college, marriage, military life, or motherhood--I always like to ask questions to the people who are currently IN the phase, or have gone through it. "You've been married for 40 years? What's your most important piece of advice?" "You have four kids? What do you miss the most about the age that my child is now? I want to make sure and soak it up now while he is young." "You're a military wife? What the best piece of advice for moving you've ever received?" And so on.
Often, people are taken aback when I ask. They aren't prepared to share their MOST valuable advice. They turn their head to the side, sigh, and ponder the question. And sometimes, I get a great answer...and sometimes, I get a shoulder shrug followed by, "Work hard." "Forgive." "Hug them more."
While these answers are good, they don't really satisfy my insatiable need for insight into the human life. While thinking about this the other day (while cleaning up the 8th spill of the day), it occurred to me that I wanted to answer this question about motherhood--for myself, and for others if they are interested. Not merely advice. But what is it about?
What is motherhood?
Motherhood is feeling desperate for a break or to get away from your young, dependent child, yet knowing that if you do "get away" even for a few hours, you'll miss something. Or, you'll just miss them.
Motherhood is being exhausted, but never sleeping the same again!
Motherhood is gladly enforcing punishments and consequences. Motherhood is dreading having to be the "enforcer."
Motherhood is letting your toddler drink from a cup because he or she insists, andangrily calmly cleaning up the mess each time they spill it.
Motherhood is wanting the independence you once had before you had your kids, but feeling like a superhero when you are the only person who can kiss a boo boo and make it better.
Motherhood is falling in love with your spouse all over again when you see them with your children, but often being too tired to show it.
Motherhood is a different body, where imperfections are no longer imperfections. They are memories and represent life. (Don't believe me? Wait until your child learns that they came from your belly. Look at the wonder in their eyes.) Your body is beautiful.
Motherhood is the constant battle between fixing the problem right away, or teaching a lesson. Giving in to what your toddler wants versus giving them what they need.
Motherhood is knowing that you are spending all of your time and energy on teaching, growing, shaping this little person that will eventually leave you and build a life apart from you.
Motherhood is laughing and crying in the same sentence from exhaustion, feeling overwhelmed, or just feeling like you have no idea what you are doing.
Motherhood is still getting out of bed to take care of kids, run carpool, and make lunches when you have the flu.
Motherhood is crying about things that haven't happened yet. Graduations, first days of school, the day they are too old to be rocked....silly emotions.
Motherhood is doing whatever it takes to get them to sleep. Seriously....sleep.
Motherhood is relentless. At EVERY stage. Whether you're nursing for every two hours. Or you're telling your toddler no er....to use better choices five hundred times a day. Or you're answering the question, "Why?" all day every day. Or you're holding firm on standards--homework, appropriate attire, appropriate behavior, please and thank you. Motherhood is constant.
Motherhood is the bliss found in the first moments, the long awaited moments, and the still moments. When you look at your child's face and you have time to study it. Or, when your child does something and you are reminded that you are not failing. That this person you're raising is taking the form of the person you hope them to be someday.
Motherhood is a whole new set of hours, and a whole new set of priorities.
Motherhood is never realizing how much your mom loved you until you have kids of your own.
Motherhood kissing the back of their neck and soaking that smell in. Knowing that their giggles won't last forever. Drinking in the moments and slowing down to enjoy the little people that they are becoming.
Motherhood is beautiful.
And rewarding.
And hard.
And consuming.
What is motherhood to you?
Make sure to hug a mom this Mother's Day--especially if her husband is deployed!
For all the moms out there, Happy *almost* Mother's Day. May you have a day of no diapers, relaxation, appreciation, and sleeping in! (Or whatever suits your fancy!)
Often, people are taken aback when I ask. They aren't prepared to share their MOST valuable advice. They turn their head to the side, sigh, and ponder the question. And sometimes, I get a great answer...and sometimes, I get a shoulder shrug followed by, "Work hard." "Forgive." "Hug them more."
While these answers are good, they don't really satisfy my insatiable need for insight into the human life. While thinking about this the other day (while cleaning up the 8th spill of the day), it occurred to me that I wanted to answer this question about motherhood--for myself, and for others if they are interested. Not merely advice. But what is it about?
What is motherhood?
Motherhood is feeling desperate for a break or to get away from your young, dependent child, yet knowing that if you do "get away" even for a few hours, you'll miss something. Or, you'll just miss them.
Motherhood is being exhausted, but never sleeping the same again!
Motherhood is gladly enforcing punishments and consequences. Motherhood is dreading having to be the "enforcer."
Motherhood is letting your toddler drink from a cup because he or she insists, and
Motherhood is wanting the independence you once had before you had your kids, but feeling like a superhero when you are the only person who can kiss a boo boo and make it better.
Motherhood is falling in love with your spouse all over again when you see them with your children, but often being too tired to show it.
Motherhood is a different body, where imperfections are no longer imperfections. They are memories and represent life. (Don't believe me? Wait until your child learns that they came from your belly. Look at the wonder in their eyes.) Your body is beautiful.
Motherhood is the constant battle between fixing the problem right away, or teaching a lesson. Giving in to what your toddler wants versus giving them what they need.
Motherhood is knowing that you are spending all of your time and energy on teaching, growing, shaping this little person that will eventually leave you and build a life apart from you.
Motherhood is laughing and crying in the same sentence from exhaustion, feeling overwhelmed, or just feeling like you have no idea what you are doing.
Motherhood is still getting out of bed to take care of kids, run carpool, and make lunches when you have the flu.
Motherhood is crying about things that haven't happened yet. Graduations, first days of school, the day they are too old to be rocked....silly emotions.
Motherhood is doing whatever it takes to get them to sleep. Seriously....sleep.
Motherhood is relentless. At EVERY stage. Whether you're nursing for every two hours. Or you're telling your toddler
Motherhood is the bliss found in the first moments, the long awaited moments, and the still moments. When you look at your child's face and you have time to study it. Or, when your child does something and you are reminded that you are not failing. That this person you're raising is taking the form of the person you hope them to be someday.
Motherhood is a whole new set of hours, and a whole new set of priorities.
Motherhood is never realizing how much your mom loved you until you have kids of your own.
Motherhood kissing the back of their neck and soaking that smell in. Knowing that their giggles won't last forever. Drinking in the moments and slowing down to enjoy the little people that they are becoming.
Motherhood is beautiful.
And rewarding.
And hard.
And consuming.
What is motherhood to you?
Make sure to hug a mom this Mother's Day--especially if her husband is deployed!
For all the moms out there, Happy *almost* Mother's Day. May you have a day of no diapers, relaxation, appreciation, and sleeping in! (Or whatever suits your fancy!)
Saturday, February 23, 2013
My favorite spot in our home...
Why hello (six+ months later)!
I don't post very often--because life is busy with a toddler, and frankly, because I feel like if I don't have something funny or important to share...well, I don't see a need to write. :) But today, I felt a need to share for cathartic reasons.
The past few months have been hard for me. For lots of reasons that I won't go into. But hard.
And I understand that "hard" is just a part of life. And that is OK. I believe that things are hard for a reason. To teach me. To grow me. These are the years where we earn our "wisdom", right? ;)
I have a favorite spot in my house (besides my bed--climbing into the bed after a long day is such an amazing feeling!). Our house was built in 1932, I think. It's since been renovated and a larger kitchen, garage, and room above the garage were all added on. So, the old "kitchen" is now a little hallway/room that connects the dining room and the kitchen.
Here is a picture of the wall that runs along this little room. Across from it are cabinets and more counters--basically an extension of the kitchen. Underneath this table, there is an air vent. When central air was added to our home, it was added in the crawl space beneath the house. The result is that all of our downstairs vents are on our floors. I LOVE this spot in front of the window. I love the wall with pictures of my family. I love the table and decor. But, mostly, I love how this spot reminds me to count my blessings each time I pass. Each time I walk by, I feel a warm current of air coming from the vent underneath the table. When I feel that warm air, whether it's for a brief second between running to the kitchen for a rag to clean up a spill, or if I have a moment to pause, look out the window, and reflect, I feel thankful. Thankful for this roof over my head. Thankful for a husband that works HARD to provide it for our family. Thankful that he supports me in staying home with our munchkin. Thankful that he's such a good friend and partner. Thankful that with so many people around the world living in uncomfortable situations, that I am blessed enough to have a beautiful home with warm air coming into it. To make it comfortable for my growing boy. Each time I walk by this spot, I feel that this house is our HOME.
In the summer, it's cool air rather than warm. And the effect is the same. But, it's much more intense in the winter. The warm air is mood changer. A spirit lifter. Perspective.
Perspective. And for that, I am thankful. Even if I don't feel that air on my feet, even if I don't have the time to stand and soak it in, it's still there. Protecting my home from the cold. Keeping us comfortable. It's always there whether I'm thankful or not. And even though I can set my thermostat to whatever temperature I choose, the most joy is in this "warm" spot.
I kinda think this is like life. It's easy to be joyful in the warm spots. When life is "easy"--I use the quotes because the word "easy" is relative...! It's easy to be joyful when we are seeing the fruits of our labor. But, being joyful when things are less than ideal--that's hard. I've often heard the phrase, "Bloom where you are planted." Man! What a hard thing to do! But, as a military wife--how relevant! Bloom where I am planted. Be a positive experience to those around me Leave people feeling better than when I met them. Find the joy in each duty station and make the best of it. This has definitely been a personal challenge for myself recently, and I'm absolutely a work in progress!!
I know that these "hard" times will pass. I know that my challenging toddler will grow and change and I will miss these days. And I know that, as all military families do, we will move on from this place and phase in our life and my husband's career. But, I'm thankful for that air vent. For what it means physically--a roof over my head and food in our bellies, when so many people of this world cannot be thankful for the same. And I'm thankful for the reminder that it gives me. Even though times are hard, I am not alone. Even though I can only feel that warm spot in front of that table, that warm air permeates the entire house. Even though life is hard at times, my blessings are there--I just have to find those warm spots. Just because they are hard to find, doesn't mean the heat isn't on!
What about you? What is your air vent? What is it that helps you remember to be joyful, or thankful. Frankly, I think one of the most challenging parts of being a military wife is the challenge to bloom where you are planted.
Today, I'm thankful for that vent. And I hope that I leave each place we live better than when we arrived.
I don't post very often--because life is busy with a toddler, and frankly, because I feel like if I don't have something funny or important to share...well, I don't see a need to write. :) But today, I felt a need to share for cathartic reasons.
The past few months have been hard for me. For lots of reasons that I won't go into. But hard.
And I understand that "hard" is just a part of life. And that is OK. I believe that things are hard for a reason. To teach me. To grow me. These are the years where we earn our "wisdom", right? ;)
I have a favorite spot in my house (besides my bed--climbing into the bed after a long day is such an amazing feeling!). Our house was built in 1932, I think. It's since been renovated and a larger kitchen, garage, and room above the garage were all added on. So, the old "kitchen" is now a little hallway/room that connects the dining room and the kitchen.
Here is a picture of the wall that runs along this little room. Across from it are cabinets and more counters--basically an extension of the kitchen. Underneath this table, there is an air vent. When central air was added to our home, it was added in the crawl space beneath the house. The result is that all of our downstairs vents are on our floors. I LOVE this spot in front of the window. I love the wall with pictures of my family. I love the table and decor. But, mostly, I love how this spot reminds me to count my blessings each time I pass. Each time I walk by, I feel a warm current of air coming from the vent underneath the table. When I feel that warm air, whether it's for a brief second between running to the kitchen for a rag to clean up a spill, or if I have a moment to pause, look out the window, and reflect, I feel thankful. Thankful for this roof over my head. Thankful for a husband that works HARD to provide it for our family. Thankful that he supports me in staying home with our munchkin. Thankful that he's such a good friend and partner. Thankful that with so many people around the world living in uncomfortable situations, that I am blessed enough to have a beautiful home with warm air coming into it. To make it comfortable for my growing boy. Each time I walk by this spot, I feel that this house is our HOME.
In the summer, it's cool air rather than warm. And the effect is the same. But, it's much more intense in the winter. The warm air is mood changer. A spirit lifter. Perspective.
Perspective. And for that, I am thankful. Even if I don't feel that air on my feet, even if I don't have the time to stand and soak it in, it's still there. Protecting my home from the cold. Keeping us comfortable. It's always there whether I'm thankful or not. And even though I can set my thermostat to whatever temperature I choose, the most joy is in this "warm" spot.
I kinda think this is like life. It's easy to be joyful in the warm spots. When life is "easy"--I use the quotes because the word "easy" is relative...! It's easy to be joyful when we are seeing the fruits of our labor. But, being joyful when things are less than ideal--that's hard. I've often heard the phrase, "Bloom where you are planted." Man! What a hard thing to do! But, as a military wife--how relevant! Bloom where I am planted. Be a positive experience to those around me Leave people feeling better than when I met them. Find the joy in each duty station and make the best of it. This has definitely been a personal challenge for myself recently, and I'm absolutely a work in progress!!
I know that these "hard" times will pass. I know that my challenging toddler will grow and change and I will miss these days. And I know that, as all military families do, we will move on from this place and phase in our life and my husband's career. But, I'm thankful for that air vent. For what it means physically--a roof over my head and food in our bellies, when so many people of this world cannot be thankful for the same. And I'm thankful for the reminder that it gives me. Even though times are hard, I am not alone. Even though I can only feel that warm spot in front of that table, that warm air permeates the entire house. Even though life is hard at times, my blessings are there--I just have to find those warm spots. Just because they are hard to find, doesn't mean the heat isn't on!
What about you? What is your air vent? What is it that helps you remember to be joyful, or thankful. Frankly, I think one of the most challenging parts of being a military wife is the challenge to bloom where you are planted.
Today, I'm thankful for that vent. And I hope that I leave each place we live better than when we arrived.
Thursday, August 16, 2012
The little stitch that could...
 |
| The whole gang is there--all four stitches. |
I guess I should be glad he's lasted this long without having to be stitched up. He's such a wild, rowdy boy. He's not at all agreeable (see my last post). ;)
However, on top of running into the counter and getting stitches, my precious little one has managed to pull out three of the four stitches within 36 hours of getting them. *Facepalm*
 |
| The Little Stitch That Could |
So, this last stitch, has quickly become, "The little stitch that could"...hold my child's forehead together. If he escapes with even a minor scar, I will owe it to this stitch. If this scar is never the topic of conversation at dinner, I will owe it to this stitch. If future conversations don't turn out like this:
Hi, Mason. Nice to meet you. How did you get that scar?
I will owe it to this stitch.
So, dear little stitch, please do hang on. His face is so precious. He's far too young to be romancing the ladies with tales of how he climbed mountains or conquered dragons and came away with only the scar on his forehead.
Until then, at least for the next few months, I'll just assume that this little scar will be the topic of many a conversation. Add this to the list of agreeable qualities....If your child does NOT take it upon himself to remove his own stitches...you might have an agreeable child.
Then again, perhaps Mason has found his higher calling in life. Maybe he'll be a doctor one day!!
Sunday, August 12, 2012
You might have an agreeable child if...
 |
| He's very upset...about something. |
This, however, I felt really needed to be said.
Let me start by telling you a smidge about the little personality that I've been raising. He is WONDERFUL, don't get me wrong. But, he is....um.....spirited. And by spirited, I mean: Challenging. Determined. Stubborn.
And he's 18 months. I am le tired. Ok...back to the topic....
I feel like I am constantly seeing all of these posts on facebook/intstagram of moms with toddlers that are snuggly, sweet, and gentle. I see these parents make comments like, "I had to wake him/her to eat" when talking about their newborns. Or, "We just snuggled all morning." OY!! Enough!! I'm happy that your child is just so relaxed and laid back....but, no need to rub it in!!!
So, I decided I would write a post. Now, moms with agreeable kids--do not be offended!! Instead, rejoice if you fall into this category. And if you don't have an agreeable child....well, I am in the trenches with you!!!
Here goes....
If you have ever said, "I had to wake him to eat. He just sleeps too much!"....you might have an agreeable child.
If you have ever looked with horror at the mom in the grocery store with the screaming child (once you already have kids)....you might have an agreeable child.
If you have ever said to a friend that is frustrated with their toddler, "I just told him to and he did it, it's that simple"...you might have an agreeable child.
In fact, if you find yourself telling your mom friends, "It's that simple" often...you might have an agreeable child.
If you can sit and enjoy a meal in public with a small child under the age of three...you might have an agreeable child.
If your child can nap anywhere and fall asleep easily when they are tired...you might have an agreeable child.
If you were able to sleep through the night consistently before your child's first birthday...you might have an agreeable child.
While traveling, if you look with judgement upon the parents a few rows up with the ONLY AWAKE CHILD on the entire plane...you might have an agreeable child.
If you look upon a parent, with a child that is more challenging, and blame the parent by claiming that if they parented correctly, their child would willingly follow directions...you might have an agreeable child.
If your child sits still and reads, draws, or plays with one activity for more than a few minutes...you might have an agreeable child.
If the concept of your child intentionally defying you is something you wouldn't dream of...you might have an agreeable child.
If your child stays in bed when you put them there...you might have an agreeable child.
If (in your head or out loud), you thought while reading the last statement, "They will stay in bed, you just have to tell them what you expect and make it happen and be consistent"...you might have an agreeable child.
If your child stays in time out the FIRST time you put them there...you might have an agreeable child.
Let me finish this by saying, that all children are blessings. And I'm not complaining about my blessing. He's wonderful. I cannot imagine getting a different personality. I love him more than life itself. But, fellow moms, do not judge my parenting skills based on my toddler's behavior. Despite consistency, patience, and healthy rearing, my little one isn't calm, gentle, or cuddly. So, when you see me at the commissary with no makeup, my hair disheveled, and a screaming child who REFUSES to sit in the cart, please do not judge. Just move along with your well behaved child and your cute hair-do.
If you sympathize, please share your, "You might have an agreeable child" moments. ;)
Saturday, October 1, 2011
My irrational fears...part II
I HATE BUGS.
When the husband is around, I don't really have to worry about killing them because I just point and squeal like a little girl and he immediately becomes my knight in shining armor. He saves the day squishes the bug, and then gets rid of the body. Ick.
Last night, when I was turning out lights and heading to bed, I noticed a dead bug in the corner of the room. Ugh. Normally, I will suck them up in a vacuum so as not to have to directly touch them at all. Even through a napkin, I can FEEL them and it just freaks me out. Well, the munchkin was sleeping of course. No Vacuum. My inner little girl whined. I had to be brave and pick it up with a napkin. I decided that I would tackle this challenge head on. I would proudly put my big girl panties on. For all women everywhere, I would pick up that bug and flush it down the toilet. I had resolve!
I walked into the bathroom and grabbed enough toilet paper to protect myself. I calmly walked over to the bug and reached down to smother it with the tissue. I picked it up and started to walk to the bathroom when all of a sudden IT STARTED WIGGLING!!!
ICK! ICK! ICK! IIIIIIIICK!!!
I dropped it and jumped about eight feet in the air. New plan. Forget about the munchkin and suck up the bug that was obviously playing possum. The bug was going to die--it had messed with the wrong military wife!
As I was frantically trying to get the vacuum plugged in and fired up, all I could think about was how the ONE TIME I had decided to be brave, the bug came alive. And almost ate me. Of course that last part is not true--that's why it's an irrational fear, I guess.
When the husband is around, I don't really have to worry about killing them because I just point and squeal like a little girl and he immediately becomes my knight in shining armor. He saves the day squishes the bug, and then gets rid of the body. Ick.
Last night, when I was turning out lights and heading to bed, I noticed a dead bug in the corner of the room. Ugh. Normally, I will suck them up in a vacuum so as not to have to directly touch them at all. Even through a napkin, I can FEEL them and it just freaks me out. Well, the munchkin was sleeping of course. No Vacuum. My inner little girl whined. I had to be brave and pick it up with a napkin. I decided that I would tackle this challenge head on. I would proudly put my big girl panties on. For all women everywhere, I would pick up that bug and flush it down the toilet. I had resolve!
I walked into the bathroom and grabbed enough toilet paper to protect myself. I calmly walked over to the bug and reached down to smother it with the tissue. I picked it up and started to walk to the bathroom when all of a sudden IT STARTED WIGGLING!!!
ICK! ICK! ICK! IIIIIIIICK!!!
I dropped it and jumped about eight feet in the air. New plan. Forget about the munchkin and suck up the bug that was obviously playing possum. The bug was going to die--it had messed with the wrong military wife!
As I was frantically trying to get the vacuum plugged in and fired up, all I could think about was how the ONE TIME I had decided to be brave, the bug came alive. And almost ate me. Of course that last part is not true--that's why it's an irrational fear, I guess.
Friday, September 30, 2011
My irrational fears and why I miss my husband.
My son has this adorable little walker that he runs all over the house in. He loves having the freedom and control to walk around and do as he pleases. He'll roll over to a little table we have and open the drawers, he'll explore the handle of the vacuum, and of course--he chases our dogs. He'll get going really fast and run into furniture and over your feet if you're in the way. I cannot even count the number of times that my poor little toes have fallen victim to this walker.
Today I was walking down the hallway back into our bedroom to finish getting ready. As I heard the munchkin chasing after me--at a full sprint, I couldn't help but be freaked out. Let me explain. I have issues being chased and followed. When I was a kid--tag wasn't a game I enjoyed much. I cannot tell you why--it's just one of my idiosyncrasies. Whenever I am chased or followed--I freak out. My husband seems to think this is hilarious. He'll add in the phrase, "I'm gonna get you" and hold out his hands like he's the tickle monster. My immediate hysterics always result in oodles of laughter from him. I, however, am not amused.
Aaaaand we're back.
Today, I was actually a little freaked out because I was being chased. By my 8 month old. Who can't even walk. I quickened my pace and as soon as I got into my bedroom, whipped around and talked myself out of the anxious feelings that were welling up. As soon as the babe came around the corner, all I could think was about how ridiculous I felt for having such an irrational fear.
Why does this make me miss my husband? He would love this story and we would laugh together about it. Because he can appreciate all of the little weird things about me. And because he knows me like no one else does.
Seven years ago tomorrow, he and I met in college. And now, his little boy is learning to tease mommy while daddy is away just like daddy would. I'm thinking that once this kid is old enough to play pranks with him, my life is going to get a lot more interesting...
Today I was walking down the hallway back into our bedroom to finish getting ready. As I heard the munchkin chasing after me--at a full sprint, I couldn't help but be freaked out. Let me explain. I have issues being chased and followed. When I was a kid--tag wasn't a game I enjoyed much. I cannot tell you why--it's just one of my idiosyncrasies. Whenever I am chased or followed--I freak out. My husband seems to think this is hilarious. He'll add in the phrase, "I'm gonna get you" and hold out his hands like he's the tickle monster. My immediate hysterics always result in oodles of laughter from him. I, however, am not amused.
Aaaaand we're back.
Today, I was actually a little freaked out because I was being chased. By my 8 month old. Who can't even walk. I quickened my pace and as soon as I got into my bedroom, whipped around and talked myself out of the anxious feelings that were welling up. As soon as the babe came around the corner, all I could think was about how ridiculous I felt for having such an irrational fear.
Why does this make me miss my husband? He would love this story and we would laugh together about it. Because he can appreciate all of the little weird things about me. And because he knows me like no one else does.
Seven years ago tomorrow, he and I met in college. And now, his little boy is learning to tease mommy while daddy is away just like daddy would. I'm thinking that once this kid is old enough to play pranks with him, my life is going to get a lot more interesting...
Wednesday, September 28, 2011
Reflection.
Warning: No editing or filtering for this post. Just transparency and honesty.
One of the things that I love about the military lifestyle is that it defines "seasons" in your life. Time still moves quickly, but with each PCS (move), you are prompted to reflect upon your time at that particular duty station(at least I am). It's so neat to have this "default slow down" in my life. I love to think about who I was when I arrived, and how different I am when I leave. It's amazing how much your life, your viewpoints, and your relationships can change within the course of a year.
Although we are not leaving our current duty station, we did receive orders to stay here for the next three years. After living in three states, and four towns in the past four years, staying in one place for three seems a bit daunting. We are currently in the process of buying a home here--which means we will move again--but this time, on our own without military help.
I can't help but feel so incredibly blessed about the past year. I have an amazing, healthy baby boy who brightens my life everyday! I am FINALLY starting to feel like I didn't JUST have a baby. (I don't know about other women--but it's taken a long time for me to recover physically and hormonally) We are in the process of buying a beautiful home to raise our precious little one. But, one of the main reasons I feel so blessed and happy is because of my relationship with my husband. Marriages have seasons. There are challenging times that stretch you and your partner to be better. There are wonderful times, that are just so easy--and you just work so well together. Either way, a marriage is a living, breathing relationship that requires work daily. For this duty station, I reflect upon my marriage and am realizing that we have had our tough days while here. That we had to work at this thing called marriage--especially with taking care of a new baby. But, for the most part, we were in a state of bliss. We developed a rhythm here and I can honestly say that not only do I love my husband more today than the day I married him, but I can say that I am just so IN love with him. He is such a wonderful man, provider, and friend.
It is bittersweet though. Because this next year, will be a challenging one. He will be deployed for more than half of it. I know that our relationship will pass this test. I know we are committed. I know I can handle the requirements of being a single parent at home and keeping the "home fires burning" while he is away. And I am so thankful that we are in such a wonderful place to start this journey. But, I am also sad--because I will miss him terribly. I know that watching him leave, watching the distance between us grow, will be gut wrenching. But, I also know that it's the life we have signed up for, and that this is what we are called to do.
As I watch my friends and their husbands join the fleet around us, I see husbands leaving and returning. And it has suddenly become all too real. For so long, we've all had our men around--for training. Sure, they would leave for a weekend here and there, but we've been blessed to have the deployments left for the future. They have been locked away with words like, "One day" and "a long ways off." Here we are...not a long ways off.
As hard as it's going to be, I wouldn't trade it. I wouldn't trade the friendships, the experiences, the beauty and intimacy that a military lifestyle builds in a marriage--having only each other to rely on, and I wouldn't trade the good parts of deployment (the return--a second honeymoon, the appreciation that comes with not taking your spouse for granted, and the pride that comes from the everyday tasks that you accomplish by yourself--consistently doing things that you didn't think you could do).
I am so thankful for this past year--for this time with my family before deployments begin. And I know that this next year, although difficult, will provide opportunities to build rich, relationships with other wives and with my husband. It's going to be a good year.
One of the things that I love about the military lifestyle is that it defines "seasons" in your life. Time still moves quickly, but with each PCS (move), you are prompted to reflect upon your time at that particular duty station(at least I am). It's so neat to have this "default slow down" in my life. I love to think about who I was when I arrived, and how different I am when I leave. It's amazing how much your life, your viewpoints, and your relationships can change within the course of a year.
Although we are not leaving our current duty station, we did receive orders to stay here for the next three years. After living in three states, and four towns in the past four years, staying in one place for three seems a bit daunting. We are currently in the process of buying a home here--which means we will move again--but this time, on our own without military help.
I can't help but feel so incredibly blessed about the past year. I have an amazing, healthy baby boy who brightens my life everyday! I am FINALLY starting to feel like I didn't JUST have a baby. (I don't know about other women--but it's taken a long time for me to recover physically and hormonally) We are in the process of buying a beautiful home to raise our precious little one. But, one of the main reasons I feel so blessed and happy is because of my relationship with my husband. Marriages have seasons. There are challenging times that stretch you and your partner to be better. There are wonderful times, that are just so easy--and you just work so well together. Either way, a marriage is a living, breathing relationship that requires work daily. For this duty station, I reflect upon my marriage and am realizing that we have had our tough days while here. That we had to work at this thing called marriage--especially with taking care of a new baby. But, for the most part, we were in a state of bliss. We developed a rhythm here and I can honestly say that not only do I love my husband more today than the day I married him, but I can say that I am just so IN love with him. He is such a wonderful man, provider, and friend.
It is bittersweet though. Because this next year, will be a challenging one. He will be deployed for more than half of it. I know that our relationship will pass this test. I know we are committed. I know I can handle the requirements of being a single parent at home and keeping the "home fires burning" while he is away. And I am so thankful that we are in such a wonderful place to start this journey. But, I am also sad--because I will miss him terribly. I know that watching him leave, watching the distance between us grow, will be gut wrenching. But, I also know that it's the life we have signed up for, and that this is what we are called to do.
As I watch my friends and their husbands join the fleet around us, I see husbands leaving and returning. And it has suddenly become all too real. For so long, we've all had our men around--for training. Sure, they would leave for a weekend here and there, but we've been blessed to have the deployments left for the future. They have been locked away with words like, "One day" and "a long ways off." Here we are...not a long ways off.
As hard as it's going to be, I wouldn't trade it. I wouldn't trade the friendships, the experiences, the beauty and intimacy that a military lifestyle builds in a marriage--having only each other to rely on, and I wouldn't trade the good parts of deployment (the return--a second honeymoon, the appreciation that comes with not taking your spouse for granted, and the pride that comes from the everyday tasks that you accomplish by yourself--consistently doing things that you didn't think you could do).
I am so thankful for this past year--for this time with my family before deployments begin. And I know that this next year, although difficult, will provide opportunities to build rich, relationships with other wives and with my husband. It's going to be a good year.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Family Pictures--pilot style
I just wanted to share some fun pictures of our little family (minus our pups). My husband is an E2 Pilot for the Navy. One of the perks of being a pilot's wife is getting to take fun pictures, like these:
We were literally feet from the runway--the wings of the plane were almost over us! And, my wonderful husband, was flying the plane. Some day, the munchkin will be old enough to point and say, "Daddy" with that wonderful childlike innocence. On this day, he just stared and enjoyed the breeze as his Daddy flew by.
Pretty cool. :)
Monday, August 29, 2011
Easy Vegetable Stew
I'm really looking forward to the fall--which has me thinking about my favorite fall dishes! Cue the delicious vegetable stew!! This one has a lot of ingredients, but only a few steps. There isn't much preparation, it requires few dirty dishes, and is done within an hour! Give it a shot--I committed it to memory after a few attempts. It's worth it!
1 1/2-2 lbs stew meat
32 oz frozen bag of vegetables (I buy the bag that has corn, green beans, carrots, and peas in it)
1 Can tomato Sauce
1 Can diced tomatoes
One Garlic clove, minced.
One medium onion, minced.
1 large or 2 medium potatoes, peeled and chopped.
1/2 Cup Ketchup*
Pinch of salt
Pinch of pepper
Two bouillon cubes
1 Tbs. Olive Oil
Water--about six cups
Optional: Better than bouillon
*Ketchup is very important to this recipe. It tastes very bland without it. So, I wouldn't recommend skipping it.
I love to serve this stew with cornbread. Also, I'm convinced it's more delicious the next day. Even my husband, who isn't a huge fan of vegetables, loves this recipe! Best of all, besides the potatoes--you can consider all of this non-perishable food! So, you can keep it all on hand for when you are in a bind! :) I hope you enjoy this stew as much as we have!!
1 1/2-2 lbs stew meat
32 oz frozen bag of vegetables (I buy the bag that has corn, green beans, carrots, and peas in it)
1 Can tomato Sauce
1 Can diced tomatoes
One Garlic clove, minced.
One medium onion, minced.
1 large or 2 medium potatoes, peeled and chopped.
1/2 Cup Ketchup*
Pinch of salt
Pinch of pepper
Two bouillon cubes
1 Tbs. Olive Oil
Water--about six cups
Optional: Better than bouillon
*Ketchup is very important to this recipe. It tastes very bland without it. So, I wouldn't recommend skipping it.
- Sear meat in oil and garlic. Add "Better than Bouillon" now if you wish.
- Add the rest of the ingredients and cover with water (usually at least 6 cups)
- Simmer for 45 minutes to an hour. Make sure potatoes are soft before serving.
I love to serve this stew with cornbread. Also, I'm convinced it's more delicious the next day. Even my husband, who isn't a huge fan of vegetables, loves this recipe! Best of all, besides the potatoes--you can consider all of this non-perishable food! So, you can keep it all on hand for when you are in a bind! :) I hope you enjoy this stew as much as we have!!
Crawling, diarrhea, and a hurricane! Oh my!
Aren't you jealous? Wouldn't you just LOVE to spend the weekend dealing with these three items? Well, the first is kind of exciting. The munchkin has finally started to crawl! He has spent the past few weeks rocking back and forth--and scooting along. But, this weekend, he FINALLY put it all together in the fluid "crawling" movement. Hooray!! I'm so excited! (and slightly terrified!!!)
Then there was the diarrhea--happy day!! (Note the sarcasm) My little one had issues this weekend. I feel so bad for him. At first I thought it might have been the cold that he was finally getting over, or perhaps the change in his schedule. But it occurred to me that his formula cans that were delivered looked a little different than the old ones. (My son has formula delivered because he has a severe allergy to the protein found in milk. So, he has to drink prescription formula--which is delivered.) I wondered if that could be the problem. Perhaps they had changed more than the packaging. So, today, I called the company. They changed the formula--and somehow, no one informed me. More than 36 hours of diarrhea later, they are overnighting the old formula to me so that I can slowly switch him to the new stuff.
Finally, the lady of the weekend--Irene. Of course, the men are away right now, which left the women and children (and dogs) to fend for ourselves. The actual hurricane part of a hurricane isn't where the work is. The work is in the preparation and cleanup. Ugh. I won't write the details, but let's just say that us women did a fantastic job of prepping our homes and vehicles for this storm. We survived TWO storms this weekend. Irene, and the storm of having three wives, four kids, and two dogs in one house. For an entire weekend. Ah...memories.
Then there was the diarrhea--happy day!! (Note the sarcasm) My little one had issues this weekend. I feel so bad for him. At first I thought it might have been the cold that he was finally getting over, or perhaps the change in his schedule. But it occurred to me that his formula cans that were delivered looked a little different than the old ones. (My son has formula delivered because he has a severe allergy to the protein found in milk. So, he has to drink prescription formula--which is delivered.) I wondered if that could be the problem. Perhaps they had changed more than the packaging. So, today, I called the company. They changed the formula--and somehow, no one informed me. More than 36 hours of diarrhea later, they are overnighting the old formula to me so that I can slowly switch him to the new stuff.
Finally, the lady of the weekend--Irene. Of course, the men are away right now, which left the women and children (and dogs) to fend for ourselves. The actual hurricane part of a hurricane isn't where the work is. The work is in the preparation and cleanup. Ugh. I won't write the details, but let's just say that us women did a fantastic job of prepping our homes and vehicles for this storm. We survived TWO storms this weekend. Irene, and the storm of having three wives, four kids, and two dogs in one house. For an entire weekend. Ah...memories.
Wednesday, August 24, 2011
Military law.
mil·i·tar·y law [mil-i-ter-ee law] : The proposition that if something can go wrong, it will (the instant your husband leaves town).
It's military law. Everything is fine....things are going great....no major repairs on the house. All electric appliances are working. All children are healthy. Then, BAM! Husband leaves and it all just goes haywire.
This week, military law has struck. With a vengeance.
Let's start with my seven month old having a terrible cold. TERRIBLE. He can't breath when he lays down--poor lil guy. So, laying down to sleep can be quite precarious.
Then, yesterday, my phone was stolen while at the mall. My lovely, wonderful, iphone4. :( It had all of my pictures on it, my applications, my music....
So, yesterday, was spent running around looking for it, then running to AT&T to suspend my account, running home to get my husband's old phone, going back across town to AT&T to get the old phone working, and finally heading home. All of this with a baby....with a cold.
Today, my dogs broke down the fence and got into the neighbor's yard. Joy. I had to run a few errands, and while leaving walmart, I spilled coffee all over the driver-side floorboard. Awesome. (It had cream in it too--so I'm sure my car will smell delightful...)
Dare I ask what tomorrow, or this weekend holds? Oh wait! There is a Category 3 hurricane headed our way. Glorious! Have I mentioned that we haven't had a hurricane all year? Of course, it makes perfect sense that we would have a hurricane roll in during the ONE weekend that my husband won't be here. -_-
I am not enthused.
So, let's HOPE and PRAY that this hurricane doesn't cause major power outages. Because THAT one, my friends, would really just take the cake.
It's military law. Everything is fine....things are going great....no major repairs on the house. All electric appliances are working. All children are healthy. Then, BAM! Husband leaves and it all just goes haywire.
This week, military law has struck. With a vengeance.
Let's start with my seven month old having a terrible cold. TERRIBLE. He can't breath when he lays down--poor lil guy. So, laying down to sleep can be quite precarious.
Then, yesterday, my phone was stolen while at the mall. My lovely, wonderful, iphone4. :( It had all of my pictures on it, my applications, my music....
So, yesterday, was spent running around looking for it, then running to AT&T to suspend my account, running home to get my husband's old phone, going back across town to AT&T to get the old phone working, and finally heading home. All of this with a baby....with a cold.
Today, my dogs broke down the fence and got into the neighbor's yard. Joy. I had to run a few errands, and while leaving walmart, I spilled coffee all over the driver-side floorboard. Awesome. (It had cream in it too--so I'm sure my car will smell delightful...)
Dare I ask what tomorrow, or this weekend holds? Oh wait! There is a Category 3 hurricane headed our way. Glorious! Have I mentioned that we haven't had a hurricane all year? Of course, it makes perfect sense that we would have a hurricane roll in during the ONE weekend that my husband won't be here. -_-
I am not enthused.
So, let's HOPE and PRAY that this hurricane doesn't cause major power outages. Because THAT one, my friends, would really just take the cake.
Monday, August 15, 2011
A message, from a member of the Fightin' Texas Aggie Class of 2006! Whoop!
As I was perusing facebook today, I saw a nasty comment directed at Texas A&M about this whole SEC thing.
If you aren't from Texas, then let me prep you with the background info. UT (or t.u. as my Aggies call it) and A&M are big rivals. I will admit that the University of Texas has done very well in football over the past decade and A&M has been hot and cold. Because of this, there are a lot of fair weather fans of UT. These people pick which school to support based on their football program. Which is fine.
I don't have a problem with people that support UT football--whether they are UT students or just people that like UT football. But, if you didn't go to UT, yet are a UT football fan--why do you then feel entitled to put down the A&M football program? As if you are a PART of that university? NEWS FLASH!! You are not. Just because you went out and bought a burnt orange shirt with horns on it doesn't make you a Longhorn.
I understand that everyone is entitled to their opinion, and that's fine. But, go back to your ACTUAL school and pick a rival in your own division. Or, graduate from UT. Until then, you should keep your opinions about my Aggies to yourself.
Thanks and Gig 'em!
If you aren't from Texas, then let me prep you with the background info. UT (or t.u. as my Aggies call it) and A&M are big rivals. I will admit that the University of Texas has done very well in football over the past decade and A&M has been hot and cold. Because of this, there are a lot of fair weather fans of UT. These people pick which school to support based on their football program. Which is fine.
I don't have a problem with people that support UT football--whether they are UT students or just people that like UT football. But, if you didn't go to UT, yet are a UT football fan--why do you then feel entitled to put down the A&M football program? As if you are a PART of that university? NEWS FLASH!! You are not. Just because you went out and bought a burnt orange shirt with horns on it doesn't make you a Longhorn.
I understand that everyone is entitled to their opinion, and that's fine. But, go back to your ACTUAL school and pick a rival in your own division. Or, graduate from UT. Until then, you should keep your opinions about my Aggies to yourself.
Thanks and Gig 'em!
Saturday, August 13, 2011
The feather duster: Good enough for company (except the in-laws)
There are important truths in life that you can never learn from a book.
Truth #563: The feather duster: Good enough for company (except the in-laws).
This morning, while the coffee brewed, I ran a quick feather duster over the house. As I was dusting a few pieces in my son's room, I got to thinking--this is good enough for now...but when my in-laws come to visit, I need to be much more thorough about the dusting (and cleaning for that matter)
Don't get me wrong, I love my in-laws. They are wonderful. But, my mother-in-law keeps an immaculate house. IMMACULATE. While I was growing up, my mother kept an amazingly clean house too. I remember as a young child thinking that Mom vacuumed to keep the lines on the carpet straight. (She vacuumed every day) I too vacuum every day--or at least every other day. However, my house is not immaculate. You see, I have these two giant dogs. They shed, bring dirt in, slobber, and are generally a nuisance to me. I still love them dearly, but my house would be cleaner and would stay cleaner if they didn't reside here. Seeing how clean my mother in law keeps her house is a little intimidating. I mean, it's perfection. My house will never be that clean...but I can try, right?
I don't want my in-laws to think that I'm raising their grandson in a pig sty. I have resigned myself to the fact that no matter how many times I sweep, vacuum, or mop, my little crawler will still have dog hair on his hands and probably in his mouth. It doesn't seem to bother him. :)
So, in order to put my best foot forward with the in-laws, I'll be a cleaning fiend before their arrival. How about you? Do you do anything special when your family comes to visit? Do share!
Truth #563: The feather duster: Good enough for company (except the in-laws).
This morning, while the coffee brewed, I ran a quick feather duster over the house. As I was dusting a few pieces in my son's room, I got to thinking--this is good enough for now...but when my in-laws come to visit, I need to be much more thorough about the dusting (and cleaning for that matter)
Don't get me wrong, I love my in-laws. They are wonderful. But, my mother-in-law keeps an immaculate house. IMMACULATE. While I was growing up, my mother kept an amazingly clean house too. I remember as a young child thinking that Mom vacuumed to keep the lines on the carpet straight. (She vacuumed every day) I too vacuum every day--or at least every other day. However, my house is not immaculate. You see, I have these two giant dogs. They shed, bring dirt in, slobber, and are generally a nuisance to me. I still love them dearly, but my house would be cleaner and would stay cleaner if they didn't reside here. Seeing how clean my mother in law keeps her house is a little intimidating. I mean, it's perfection. My house will never be that clean...but I can try, right?
I don't want my in-laws to think that I'm raising their grandson in a pig sty. I have resigned myself to the fact that no matter how many times I sweep, vacuum, or mop, my little crawler will still have dog hair on his hands and probably in his mouth. It doesn't seem to bother him. :)
So, in order to put my best foot forward with the in-laws, I'll be a cleaning fiend before their arrival. How about you? Do you do anything special when your family comes to visit? Do share!
Wednesday, August 3, 2011
Easy Crockpot Pulled Pork BBQ
Need to feed a large group? Don't have a grill? Try this!
Easy Crockpot Pulled Pork BBQ
Super easy! Delish! Good for days--so make extra!
Ingredients:
1 pork roast (about four pounds)
Root Beer--a six pack or a 2 liter
1 Bottle of BBQ sauce (I recommend staying away from sweet sauce--you'll get sweet from the root beer)
1 onion (you can have more if you like onion in your BBQ--we just use it for flavoring)
Salt and Pepper--just a few sprinkles
Easy Crockpot Pulled Pork BBQ
Super easy! Delish! Good for days--so make extra!
Ingredients:
1 pork roast (about four pounds)
Root Beer--a six pack or a 2 liter
1 Bottle of BBQ sauce (I recommend staying away from sweet sauce--you'll get sweet from the root beer)
1 onion (you can have more if you like onion in your BBQ--we just use it for flavoring)
Salt and Pepper--just a few sprinkles
- Cut an onion in 3-4 pieces. Leave them big enough to take out easily later.
- Put the pork roast in the crockpot.
- Fill it with root beer so that the roast is half way covered.
- Salt and pepper
- Cook on low for 8-10 hours, or on high for 5-6 hours
- Take out roast, pull apart with a fork on a plate
- Get a ladle and drain some of the rootbeer (more than half)
- Take out onions and discard
- Add roast back, and pour bottle of BBQ in the crockpot
- Add minced onions if you like
- Mix and add more rootbeer as needed (depends on how juicy you want your BBQ to be)
- Let it cook in the crockpot on high for an hour or so
- Serve on buns with whatever sides you like (we like potato chips--so easy!)
I'm no Betty Crocker...
Alright. I wish I was one of those women that just loved cooking. I wish that I enjoyed the smell of something baking in the oven, the aroma of something simmering on the stove, or the beauty of a meal plated perfectly. But the sad truth is--I don't like to cook. I find it tiring, stressful, and it gets very hot in the kitchen. Being that I am only six months postpartum, I tend to have hot flashes these days. (More on the joys of motherhood in another post)
In fact, it is not uncommon for me to ruin a recipe. I'm kind of a disaster in the kitchen--needing multiple trips to the store for one recipe, misreading directions and making dishes that are inedible. My husband just grins and shakes his head. Never critiques my cooking. He's so kind.
But...I do enjoy feeding my family. I decided that I would occasionally post recipes to my blog. However, I must warn you. These are not recipes that require lots of dishes, measurements, effort, and time in the kitchen. They are--what I strive to find. The easiest recipes ever that require minimal effort but are still quite delicious. They are difficult to screw up--because I am no Rachel Ray. Also, most of the time, you can remember them--so no cookbook required. (Although I do keep them written in a cookbook of my own--I just rarely have to use it.)
So, here is your fair warning. My recipes will not make you feel or look like an amazing cook. They aren't made from scratch. They are not gourmet, or intricate. They are simple. Delicious. And very casual. :)
In fact, it is not uncommon for me to ruin a recipe. I'm kind of a disaster in the kitchen--needing multiple trips to the store for one recipe, misreading directions and making dishes that are inedible. My husband just grins and shakes his head. Never critiques my cooking. He's so kind.
But...I do enjoy feeding my family. I decided that I would occasionally post recipes to my blog. However, I must warn you. These are not recipes that require lots of dishes, measurements, effort, and time in the kitchen. They are--what I strive to find. The easiest recipes ever that require minimal effort but are still quite delicious. They are difficult to screw up--because I am no Rachel Ray. Also, most of the time, you can remember them--so no cookbook required. (Although I do keep them written in a cookbook of my own--I just rarely have to use it.)
So, here is your fair warning. My recipes will not make you feel or look like an amazing cook. They aren't made from scratch. They are not gourmet, or intricate. They are simple. Delicious. And very casual. :)
Monday, August 1, 2011
But I am le tired...
I have always heard the term, "Oh, I slept like a baby"---exactly what does that mean? Does it mean that you wake up at the most inopportune times? Sleep for a few hours and awake screaming for a bottle? Wake as soon as your sweet mother falls asleep? UGH.
First of all--if you don't know me very well, I need to tell you something. Sleeping in, for me, is the most glorious thing in the world. When I have the opportunity to sleep in, nothing else matters. All I care about it getting to stay asleep. Falling asleep has always been difficult for me. But sleeping in--late into the morning---ah! That's just heaven! When I was six, my mom and dad had to come wake me on Christmas morning to tell me that Santa had come! I told them that the presents would still be there later, promptly rolled over, and fell asleep again. In the mornings, I am constantly running late because EVERY morning, it is quite possibly the most difficult feat of my life to drag my body out of bed. What can I say, I am a sucker for sleeping in.
In college, I adopted a puppy--Molly. I was convinced that she was my puppy soul mate because at 8 weeks old, she slept until 10am and didn't wake me until she REALLY had to use the potty. I was in love. I would get up, let her potty, and return to bed--and so would she! :)
I knew that when I became a mommy, I would have to kiss this love affair goodbye. Babies don't "sleep in"--I knew this. I had fully prepared myself for this. I had prepared myself to have to get up with him in the beginning. I knew I would be getting up to feed him for a couple of months. However, I had optimistically hoped that my son would take after me. I was sleeping through the night--12 hour stretches at three weeks old. THAT is how much I LOVE sleep. I thought, perhaps, he would be a good sleeper.
Cue the Ruiner of Things. My munchkin is still not consistently sleeping through the night. We had a spell for about a week and a half where he would sleep great. The past few nights, it's back to the old routine. Up an hour or so after I fall asleep to eat.
I was not ready for this. Six months later, and I'm still having to get up. I feel violated. This interrupted sleep is really starting to get to me.
One day, I'll look back and miss this, right? I'll just keep telling myself that. :)
I know that in the grand scheme of things, it's no big deal. I love that little boy so much. He's such a blessing from God. I love being his mommy, and I'm so thankful that he is happy and healthy. But I am le tired...
First of all--if you don't know me very well, I need to tell you something. Sleeping in, for me, is the most glorious thing in the world. When I have the opportunity to sleep in, nothing else matters. All I care about it getting to stay asleep. Falling asleep has always been difficult for me. But sleeping in--late into the morning---ah! That's just heaven! When I was six, my mom and dad had to come wake me on Christmas morning to tell me that Santa had come! I told them that the presents would still be there later, promptly rolled over, and fell asleep again. In the mornings, I am constantly running late because EVERY morning, it is quite possibly the most difficult feat of my life to drag my body out of bed. What can I say, I am a sucker for sleeping in.
In college, I adopted a puppy--Molly. I was convinced that she was my puppy soul mate because at 8 weeks old, she slept until 10am and didn't wake me until she REALLY had to use the potty. I was in love. I would get up, let her potty, and return to bed--and so would she! :)
I knew that when I became a mommy, I would have to kiss this love affair goodbye. Babies don't "sleep in"--I knew this. I had fully prepared myself for this. I had prepared myself to have to get up with him in the beginning. I knew I would be getting up to feed him for a couple of months. However, I had optimistically hoped that my son would take after me. I was sleeping through the night--12 hour stretches at three weeks old. THAT is how much I LOVE sleep. I thought, perhaps, he would be a good sleeper.
Cue the Ruiner of Things. My munchkin is still not consistently sleeping through the night. We had a spell for about a week and a half where he would sleep great. The past few nights, it's back to the old routine. Up an hour or so after I fall asleep to eat.
I was not ready for this. Six months later, and I'm still having to get up. I feel violated. This interrupted sleep is really starting to get to me.
One day, I'll look back and miss this, right? I'll just keep telling myself that. :)
I know that in the grand scheme of things, it's no big deal. I love that little boy so much. He's such a blessing from God. I love being his mommy, and I'm so thankful that he is happy and healthy. But I am le tired...
The Ruin-er of Things
A few years ago, some dear friends of ours had a precious little girl. And I do mean precious! They would affectionately call her, "Monster" when they spoke to or about her. "Hey Monster, whatcha doin?" "The Monster is hungry" etc. She was SO precious, and such a sweet little baby. We couldn't figure out why.
Then we had a baby of our own.
Sure, he's precious. And cute. And I sometimes want to eat his face a little--the cuteness is overwhelming. But, he is definitely a little monster. Napoleon-esk. Because he's angry and little. Not all the time, of course. At times he is a happy baby. But if he's tired, or hungry--he's angry. Napoleon.
When I push him in the stroller, I often think of this scene. A tiny being that is in control. The entire video is funny, but the specific part I'm speaking of is at 2:40 into the video.
Ok...back to the topic. When my son was only a few weeks old, my husband and I were chatting about how different our life had become. Now we understood why our friends called there little girl, "Monster" and decided we should have a nickname too. We threw around a few titles. Beast was a favorite. The "Beast" is waking up, or the "Beast" is hungry. We thought that was ok. I decided it sounded kind of like a WWF wrestler. Then, it came to me. We shall call our child, the "Ruin-er of Things"--yeees!!
Now, let me tell you--we LOVE our son! We wouldn't trade him for the world! So, this is definitely an affectionate term for him--which will probably be dropped long before he can understand it. And mainly, his nickname around the house is Munchkin--said in a lovey high pitched voice. But we also refer to him (never address him) as The Ruiner of Things. For example, we have to hurry and eat our dinner before the Ruiner of Things decides it's time for him to eat. We have to be home each night at 6pm because that is the Ruiner's bedtime. And so on.
We think it's fitting.
Then we had a baby of our own.
Sure, he's precious. And cute. And I sometimes want to eat his face a little--the cuteness is overwhelming. But, he is definitely a little monster. Napoleon-esk. Because he's angry and little. Not all the time, of course. At times he is a happy baby. But if he's tired, or hungry--he's angry. Napoleon.
When I push him in the stroller, I often think of this scene. A tiny being that is in control. The entire video is funny, but the specific part I'm speaking of is at 2:40 into the video.
Ok...back to the topic. When my son was only a few weeks old, my husband and I were chatting about how different our life had become. Now we understood why our friends called there little girl, "Monster" and decided we should have a nickname too. We threw around a few titles. Beast was a favorite. The "Beast" is waking up, or the "Beast" is hungry. We thought that was ok. I decided it sounded kind of like a WWF wrestler. Then, it came to me. We shall call our child, the "Ruin-er of Things"--yeees!!
Now, let me tell you--we LOVE our son! We wouldn't trade him for the world! So, this is definitely an affectionate term for him--which will probably be dropped long before he can understand it. And mainly, his nickname around the house is Munchkin--said in a lovey high pitched voice. But we also refer to him (never address him) as The Ruiner of Things. For example, we have to hurry and eat our dinner before the Ruiner of Things decides it's time for him to eat. We have to be home each night at 6pm because that is the Ruiner's bedtime. And so on.
We think it's fitting.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)