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Thursday, April 23, 2015

What A Few Hours Can Do


I've been busy. Like, really busy. Did you know that I'm in charge of crafts for 215 young women and adult leaders during girl's camp? Yes, indeed I am. It's hefty. And taking over my bedroom floor. But you know how I feel about crafts. They're from heaven. So pretty much, I'm doing God's work. Hallelujah and amen.

When my life gets going at full tilt, my writer's brain turns off. I don't really know why that happens. Maybe I'm just to busy to think of writing anything down. It's just been my go-to state lately.

But today, in a weird turn of events, I find myself with a few moments of free time. Sure, there are tons of things on my list to get done. I just don't want to do them. You too?

So, I decided to try and find an old picture. I know it's buried somewhere in my photo storage. But through my digging, all I could look at was my girls when they were so much smaller than they are now. I mean come on. I can't get enough.




Child #1:

Child #2:

Child #3:

You know what's interesting? I can't remember too much of the bad stuff. OK, I mean, I do, but it's not overpowering. I look at them and my heart melts. And I think about who they are and who they're becoming, and I'm motionless. Because, when I look at my life, I see them. Little, big and all the in between.

They are my very heartbeat. Through the good and the bad and the hard and the beautiful, I'm honored to be their mom. Truly. They are the greatest gift I never knew I needed. Thank goodness the Lord did. I'm telling you. They. Are. My. Very. Heartbeat. Love times 3.

What an extraordinary way to spend the afternoon.
You should give it a try.


Wednesday, April 8, 2015

20 and 50


20 years ago today, we said Yes to forever. I never could have imagined where life would take us on our journey. The good, the hard and the beauty of it all.

On the day we were married, right after the ceremony, we were taken to different rooms. To change? I can't really remember. I just know that we got separated for a bit. But on my way back to find him, I heard his voice before he rounded the corner. And that sound, the sound of him, became Home. In that very moment. The very best part of my life began in that hallway.

And now we are here, 20 years later. Older and more wrinkles. Some teenagers mixed in. And He is still Home. Every day. In all the ways. He is my light and my love and my everything.

For Always.

And just because we like to keep it interesting, Happy 50th Birthday, as well.
Man, I'm so grateful we're in this together.

 

Monday, April 6, 2015

How We Embark


We had a weekend that rather defies description. I'm not really sure how to label it or even tell you about it. Because it was awesome. And that's not even the surface truth of it.


The youth of our church gathered for 2 days and 1 simple cause. Service. Do you know what this many hands can do? They can change lives. Simple and powerful.


The Husband and I were privileged enough to be "assigned" 15 youth to parent and boss around. We called them our Foster Children. They were the bomb.


Our little crew repainted the house of a 92 year old woman. And spruced up her yard and the neighboring overgrown lot. We worked non-stop to bring beauty to a much needed part of town. It was inspiring.

Our own girls were off to their assigned families, working just as hard. Mormon Helping Hands at it's finest.


At the end of the day, when showers were completed, we all sat around on the floor and couches and talked about the effort and actions. No one was immune to the power of the service we rendered. Each and every youth spoke about forgetting themselves and learning what it feels like to give to another. Character was built within 24 hours. The air was electric with goodness. It just doesn't get any better than that.

If you ever find yourself wondering what's in-store for the future of our nation, let me tell you what I've seen first hand. They've got us covered. This generation of youth are noble and strong and pure and righteous. They stand for truth in all the ways that matter. We're in good hands. We really are.

Let's Embark.
Let's follow their example and serve.

Now is the time.


Thursday, April 2, 2015

Moments In March and the Edges of April


1. I have a lingering urge to buy a cow head. A cool, metal one. I want to mount it somewhere majestic in our house. It'll be awesome, I just know it. Because The Husband spent his childhood milking cows. So this would be the perfect homage to him. Get it? Yah, he totally doesn't get it. He's so narrow minded sometimes.

2. If I can't have a cow head, I might just paint the whole house white. It's all the rage in the decorating world. White walls, white kitchen. By the time I get around to it, the fad will change. I'm sure of it.

3. This is what happens with Child #2 when she's in a car and bored:


She's texting and laughing all at the same time. You know what's even funnier? She got stuck like that and couldn't move. I almost peed my pants with joy.

4. Target is making a move into craft heaven. I'm serious. I mean, they used to have a piddly little lame section that was kindof crafty. But the other day I stumbled on an isle that is legit craft goodness. Ribbons, wood, etc. I almost had a seizure right there in the aisle. I had no idea Target could get any more amazing.

5. A new mantel. Of course.


This is the most minimal it's ever been. Rather weird for me. I'm not a minimal kind of decorator. If you want to download the print that I have framed, you can find it here.

6. The Baby Child cut her hair. 8 inches of her golden locks. Donated.


7. The other day I went on a walk. The entire time I made a list in my head of all the ways I'm weird. I walked for 40 minutes. The list was long. Here's a snippet: I hate, I mean hate, talking on the phone. I also hate having long conversations over text message. So, pretty much, I'm lame if you want to communicate with me. And guess what else? I eat chicken schwarma (Mediterranean food) almost every weekend. I would eat it even more if it didn't make me look like a crazy person.

8. Child #1 has declared that, "Senioritis is a real thing." She's done. With all the things. High school is now giving her physical pain as she walks it's halls. I've tried to warn her that real life is just on the other side, and it ain't much greener.

Welcome to a new month, my friends.
9 more weeks until school's out. Bless it.


Friday, March 27, 2015

How The Story Goes


So, here's how it went down.
Well, it's how it always goes down.

Months ago, Children #1 and #2 discover that Pentatonix will be touring here.
Full freak out.
Lots of excitement.

When asked if they could go, I responded "I'm not paying for it."
Tickets were purchased with the promise of "I'll pay you back."

Present day-- no pay back.
Of course.
When will I ever get my act together.

But then the concert happens.
And they freak out again. Because it's so epic and awesome.

And I realize I can make demands.
You know, because I paid for the tickets, and all.

I demand a sister photo.

Worth every penny.

And I watch them as they talk about their night.
They are light and excitement and joy.

Again.
I'll pay it every time.


Tuesday, March 24, 2015

Dreams


Today we're going to talk dreams. Okay?

Because I had one. A dream. That's not really unusual. But here's what is-- I remembered it. I never remember my dreams. Ever. But this one? It was so epically important that it's now seared into my brain.

Before I tell you my dream, can we just pause here for a second so that I can tell you that my sister is a crazy dreamer. Like, off the hook crazy. When she was pregnant, almost all of her dreams were haunted by H.R. Puffinstuff (remember him?). He chased her everywhere. And me, being the goodly sister I am, tried forever to find a doll, an image, a poster, anything that I could send her to solidify her haunting.

Anywho. Here's my dream. I'm tempted to call it a prophecy. Maybe even a revelation. Ready?

I created a game that was instituted all across the world. Every Saturday, The Husband (and all the husbands across the world) would roll a dice. Whatever number it landed on was the number of hours he was required to do any task I required of him.

Let's repeat.
He had to do whatever I told him to do. No questions asked.

Bam. That's some genius.

So, what do you think? Whose game? We could all gather at my house and make super cute and crafty dice (and secretly every side would be the number 6). And then we can wrap them up real pretty and present them to our spouses. And then we can be all, like, "There's this new law. Roll the dice. Don't ask questions."

I'm thinking this could really be a thing. Maybe all the things forever more. I forsee only a slight hiccup. What if you don't have a husband? Never fear, I got your back. I'll gift one of my husband's hours to you. We can create a kind of rolling rotating system. That way, all the women in the huge world can get their way every Saturday. The more I write about this, the more excited I get. I say we do this!


I have another dream. But first, don't you love this sign? Child #1 drew it. Yes, I know you're jealous.

Here's my other dream-- I want to live in the country. Like, a farm house with land. Lots of land. And probably a few chickens. With a darling barn where I can craft and do puzzles.

I'm positive that country living would cure this constant ache that sits behind my eyes. The ache that screams, "There has got to be more to life than this." And it just seems to me that life is more ideal if you live on lots of land. And how bad can things be if you have these adorable chicks running around? When the children are annoying, I can just venture into the barn. You see what I'm saying?

And just to keep it real, The Husband grew up on a farm. A for legit, dairy farm. There's no way on this green earth he'll ever move to the country. He's a dream crusher, that's for sure.

What are you dreaming of lately? I really wanna know.
H.R. Puffinstuff?


Friday, March 20, 2015

I Take It All Back


Listen. Let's have a reality check. M'kay? You know all those words I sprinkled everywhere yesterday about beauty and spending time with a sick child? Yah. Today that's all crap. No more glamour. Let's just lay it all out. Having kids home for days in a row is torture of the finest degree. For the love.

It's day 3 of sickness. That's 3 days of me catering and entertaining and cleaning up after. That's 3 days of stuff I haven't been able to get done. A mother's patience can only last so long. Am I right? Geez. Let's be done with this routine, shall we?

If you're anything like me and near the end of your rope, I have some reading for you to do. Call it entertainment, distraction or excellent time management.

Because right now, at this very second, Child #3 is painting a piece of wood on the kitchen table. And before you ask, yes, I keep extra wood laying around in the garage. I'm that desperate for her to be busy with something. Anything! For the last hour she has begged me to make a giant gummy bear. Wood will have to suffice.

Read it and weep:

How to do a messy hair bun. This tutorial is awesome. I've tried it, and it works! Yes, my life has been reduced to watching hair tutorials. No big thang.

A Guide To Excusable Reasons For Early School Dismissal.
Flat out hilarious and on point. Print this letter and post it on your fridge. My sister sent me this link and it came and the perfect moment. Beware, there's cussing involved. It makes it all the richer.

And Here's Something I Want To Make. Except with the number 5. I'll let you know if I attempt it. I'm scrounging around for the energy to get to it.


Have a great weekend, friends.
May all your children remain healthy.
Say it with me....For the love.