Christmas Recap

As usual, Christmas this year was wild and crazy.  Due to work schedules my whole family descended upon the house all at once on Christmas Eve.  24 whirlwind hours later they were all gone.  There is nothing else I can say about this except that I loved every second but I am glad it's done.  Sweet baby girl didn't know that her favorite Uncle was coming so he hid in a box Christmas morning.

Watching her trying to figure out how the unicorn was dancing around in the box was so incredibly funny.  Once she got down to a tear in the box, she pressed her little eyeball to it and declared, "I see a human hand!"  You know because we might not be sure if she didn't specify that it was a "human" hand.

 Clearly she was more than thrilled to see that the human hand belonged to her Uncle Daniel!

 She was also ridiculously excited that Santa brought her high heeled boots as requested.  I'm thankful that she still thinks that half-an-inch wedge qualifies as a high heel because that's all Santa was okay with sending to my five year old child.

 This picture is beyond terrible quality but I had to share it because of the look on Alaina's face.  I could not deny that child is mine if I wanted to.  That is the exact face that I make when I am confused by something.  Or annoyed by something.  Or my patience is waning.  Pretty much about 20% of the time that is what my face looks like.

But this is my favorite shot of the morning.  I look like sleepy death but I am loving my baby and there can never be too many pictures of that.  She looks totally content and secure snuggled up with her mama, as well she should. 

I hope that you all had a most wonderful Christmas with your family and loved ones.  May the coming year bring you abundant blessings.

Sit With Me in the Silence

This morning it is with a heavy heart that I share the passing of Miguel Angel.  He was the brother of a dear friend of ours and someone that N has known for most of her life.  She is grieving for the loss of someone she cared for and aching for her very best friend who lost a brother.  I wish that there was something I could say to make it better.

As I was putting Alaina to bed last night I explained that someone we knew went to go be with Jesus so we were just sad.  She scooted over to make room for me to climb in and snuggle with her.  "Please sing me a song and stay for a few minutes tonight, mommy."  Needing it as much as she did, I laid down next to her and began singing our usual nighttime songs.  My voice (lovely thought it is - ha!) was giving out on me so eventually we just lay there in the quiet with only the lights of her tiny Christmas tree glowing in the room.  

Several minutes passed and I got up to leave.  My sweet, sleepy girl rolled over and gave me a hug and kiss so I would feel better.  Surprisingly enough, I did feel better.  She said nothing to comfort me.  She knew that there was nothing that she could do to fix it.  So she sat with me and loved me until I felt better.

How often do we try to fix someone's problem when there really is nothing that can be done?  We mutter words of sympathy and say things like, "It's better, they're not suffering anymore." and "You'll see them again one day in Heaven."  I know we mean well and I am not intending to offend anyone by saying this.  I just want to point out that sometimes, the thing that will help someone feel better is not making them feel better.  

My daughter did this for me last night.  She sat with me in that quiet room and trusted God to heal the parts of me that needed healing.  And He did.  So the next time someone you know is hurting, allow them to grieve.  Allow them to tell funny stories and good memories.  Allow them to be broken and cry.  Stop trying to fix the things that cannot be fixed and just sit with them in the silence.  It might just be exactly what they need.

It's Beginning to Barely Resemble Christmas

It turns out that I liked Christmas tree shopping better when the tiny was 2 and she didn't know she got to have an opinion.  We trekked out last night to find the perfect tree, which for me is anything that doesn't look like the Charlie Brown tree.  Alaina, on the other hand, had her sights set on this glorious 12 foot pine tree that was so perfect standing there in all it's grandeur.  Never mind the fact that we have 9 foot ceilings and it's not physically possible to cram the tree in the house, even if I was inclined to pay for it.  Finally I had to break down and do some kindergarten logic where we played greater than, to get her to walk away from the tree.  I'm not sure she was convinced but the promise of a tiny pink tree for her room got her on board really quick.  The first rule of parenting is bribery people, and I am not afraid to use it.

Two hours, $50 dollars and one million pine needles later, the tree has been wrestled into the stand and is ready to be decorated.  Which shall be taking place on Thursday night.  I need something to look forward to and Shonda Rhimes put all my shows on winter hiatus.  In the words of my beloved Mississippi, "whoever thought winter break was a good idea can jump off a cliff.  We need something amazing to distract us from all the family goodness we're trying to ignore."  So from here on out, Thursdays will be filled with Christmas decorating, present wrapping, online shopping and many, many hot toddies.

Cheers to the beginning of the madness!

Election Day - Why Every Vote Counts

When I sat down to write this, I couldn't really find a good starting place, besides simply saying, "please go vote today.  I know that it is a General Election and not a National Presidential Election, but your vote still matters.  Go vote."  Truthfully, voting in today's election is probably even more important.  Here in Georgia, our Attorney General is still trying to keep the ban on marriage equality alive.  Today I got to cast my vote for someone who believes that the life I am building with N matters as much as my neighbors.  I got to have a say in the Superintendent that will be making education decisions for our state.  As a mom of a lil bug with a lot more years of schooling ahead of her, I want the person elected to have her best interest at heart.  I could go on but instead I will move on to the bulk of why I think voting matters.

We are a privileged bunch here in the United States.  We get to vote.  We could live in Saudi Arabia where women are not even allowed to drive a car.  Even better we could live in Yemen, which The Borgen Project called the "worst place to live as a woman."  They cannot leave the house without their husband's permission. In court of law, they are considered "half a person."  Unless their testimony is corroborated by a male's testimony it is generally dismissed.  Can you imagine?  The number of countries around the United States where violence against women is not only tolerated, but encouraged, is staggering.  It makes my stomach turn to think about how different my life could have been if I had been born where I was, when I was.

Women in the early 1900's worked their butts off here in order for us to be able to vote.  All they wanted was for their words to be counted.  For themselves, their daughters, and all the generations to come to have a say in the shaping of the nation they live in.   It is my duty as an American Woman to honor that work and raise my own voice at the ballot.  I couldn't be happier to continue their legacy and make the country that we live in a better place for my own daughter.  And when she is old enough to vote for herself, I pray that she will feel even stronger and more empowered to raise her own voice for the things that she believes in.

So...to sum it all up...please vote.

Is there anything better than laughing?

The sound of laughter rings throughout every inch of space.  Deep, belly laughs that leave us gasping for air.  Tears stream down our cheeks, where rivers of mascara would have followed if we had bothered to wear any.  Our lungs move tiny amounts of air in and out as we try desperately to catch our breaths.  It is a futile effort and only serves to set off another series of laughter.  We try again to contain ourselves, to establish some decorum, but gloriously fail.  The process repeats itself over and over again until we are nearly passing out from lack of oxygen.  These moments do more for my psyche than a thousand hours spent on a psychologists couch or a thousand dollars of retail therapy.  For just a few moments they flood my body with enough endorphin's to annihilate any negative thoughts that might be rolling around. 

She looks at me and says, "this reminds me of that time when we were laughing like this and that thing happened and..."

off we go again.

She has my DNA

Sometimes our children are the best of us.  There are days that I am blown away by the kindhearted, generous, unconditionally loving little human that came out of me.  I look at her and I am humbled by the sweet spirit she embodies. 

Then there are the days that the darling little face looking back is anything but angelic.  It is full of attitude and disdain and undeniably me. 

Heaven have mercy on me...we haven't even hit the teenage years yet.  

The Secret of a Happy Relationship

Earlier today a couple of friends suggested that I write a book about my relationship with N.  For a split second it rolled around in my brain because, how much fun would that be, but then I came back down to planet earth and laughed.  I do love to write and I do love my life, but it seems like an awfully cocky thing to tell the world we have it so right that everyone should follow our lead.  Of course there are plenty of people out there who have written about how to have happy relationships who have done just that - and I have read them all.  Some have had good advice, some have made me roll my eyes, and some have been so terrible that I couldn't even finish them.  Who am I to tell the world that we hold all the secrets to lifelong bliss and are willing to share them for the low, low price of $24.95?

Truthfully though, we do get it right most of the time.  Oh, I am sure that a million people would disagree with me since we are not a typical heterosexual couple, barring us from any sort of credit.  But I can say with certainty that it is the healthiest relationship I have ever been in.  I wake up most days and can't believe that this life around me actually belongs to me.  On our worst days, we are kinder and better to one another than nearly all of the people I know.  We are not saints by any means, but we strive to embody the 1 Corinthians definition of love on a daily basis.  We meet each other where we can and offer our hearts fully, without reservation, knowing that what we give is a fraction of the blessings bestowed upon us.  It is the kind of love that transforms me in a way that I didn't know was possible.  Even as I sit here, a smile is playing across my lips.  I just can't help but talk about how wonderful it is.  Maybe I should write something after all...

So what do you think?  Would the handful of readers that I actually have be interested in a book?

Magnets are Magic

I am the stingiest person on the planet when it comes to my face products.  I have been blessed with fairly decent skin and have never seen the point in spending that much.  I would rather take my mediocre skin to an island in the Caribbean than slather myself with a tiny jar that costs as much as a plane ticket.

But if those products magically show up in my house as a gift, I am not above a little indulgence...after all I am a girl at heart.  In order to share in the fun, my sweet friend Sarah (or Sarita as N calls her) came over for a mini spa night.  It might have been the limoncello talking, but we decided that photo documenting our night was the best idea ever.

Here's us straight from work with our regular makeup on before we started any of the mask

 We removed our makeup and washed our faces before we put on the mask. 

After waiting the allotted time we used the magnet bar that came with the mask to remove it.  The bar literally sucked the mask off our faces pulling a ridiculous amount of nastiness out of our pores with it.  After it was all done, we massaged the rest of the oils into our skin and voila!  We were shiny and new with baby soft skin.

This stuff is AMAZING.  There is absolutely no way that I would have ever bought into the Dead Sea Mud Mask before trying it this time, but I think if I try really hard I can justify it.  Or buy it and forget the new boots I wanted this fall.  Who am I kidding? We all know I'll just buy them both.

I Didn't Know

I didn't know it was going to be this hard.

There are so many things about being a mama that are harder than I thought they were going to be, but this takes the cake.

When I got divorced I knew that we would both move on to new relationships.  I was truly happy when he got remarried to a lovely woman who makes him happy.  I expected it to be hard, but it never was.  It felt like setting each other free.  It was a little odd to see my daughter being taken care of by another woman, but I found peace to let it go eventually.

Or so I thought.

Today was my baby girl's first day of kindergarten.  We all went this morning to take pictures and drop her off.  I was totally fine with sharing that moment.  We all hugged Alaina and sent her into the classroom peacefully.  But it's not my weekend with Alaina so her stepmomma was the one to pick her up from school today.  In my heart of hearts, I am so happy that Alaina has so many people to love and protect her.  But not being the one to pick her up from her first day of school was brutal. 

From the time I found out I was having a girl, I dreamed of this day.  I pictured every detail from curling her hair and walking her in to scooping her up in the afternoon to hear about how her day was.  I imagined us, hand in hand, going to get ice cream as she told me all about her new teacher and all the friends she made.  This day has been years in the making.  And yet, here I sit, without my girl, tears streaming.  I am truly grateful that Amy had her call to tell me about her day; I know that she didn't have to do that and I loved hearing her excited little voice.

It should have been me.  I carried her.  I breathed for her and gave up coffee for her.  I panted through hours of contractions as she tried to make her way into the world.  I bear the stretch marks and the c-section scar where they pulled her out of my belly.  I pumped gallons of milk when she was in the NICU and cried the first time I nursed her at my breast.  I sat up with her in the middle of the night and rocked her back to sleep when she was fussy.  It was supposed to be me picking her up from her first day of school.  I know that sounds so selfish, I do, but it was supposed to be me.

Someone please tell me it gets easier with time.  My heart can't bear much more.  I didn't know it would be. This. Hard.

I didn't know.

Random Acts of Kindness

I have been wanting to get a post written about Disney for weeks, but just haven't quite found the time to put all the pictures together and actually sit down and write it.  I would like to blame this on the unpacking, etc that has been happening since we got home but that would be a lie as my suitcase is still sitting in the office completely full.  I promise that eventually I will get the pictures up and tell you how amazing it was.

This morning however, I have to talk about random acts of kindness.  This morning the car in front of me paid for my order at Starbucks.  I was pleasantly surprised and drove away feeling as if my entire morning had been transformed.  This instance alone would be enough to tell you about, but this is not the first time this has happened.  Last week, at the very same Starbucks, someone else also paid for my coffee!  As I was telling N about it, she mentioned that it happens to her often at the Starbucks near her office.  Listening to her, I remembered reading something about a line where each person paid for the car behind them that lasted for something like 1000 cars, also at a Starbucks.  

It got me thinking about positive energy and how like attracts like.  I don't know what it is about Starbucks, but something that they are doing to make the world a kinder, more generous place, is rubbing off on their patrons.  What if we all started doing things to make the world a better place?  I'm not saying that you need to adopt an orphanage in Africa, unless that's you're thing, in which case go for it.  I'm saying that here, in our cities we could make such a difference if we all committed to going out of our way to be kind on a more regular basis.  It can be money, unexpected forgiveness, holding a door open for someone that's just a little farther behind us than we normally would wait for, whatever moves you.  At least once a week, commit to doing something to make one person's day better.

If you do, and you write about your experience, please let me know or link back - I would love to hear about it!

Wishing you happiness and peace on this lovely Wednesday,

Stephanie

P.S. - I started p90x yesterday and I think I might die.  Please carry on your kindness without me if I do.

Counting Down

We are in full-on vacation planning mode around our house.  I have finally realized that I need to stop purchasing things on Etsy (read: I'm out of time to have them shipped before we leave) and my bank account thanks me for it.  Just today I got the last thing I need and thanks to my sweet friend CC I have both an awesome bag to take into the park with me and a collapsing duffle to throw in the car for things that we buy and need to bring home.  It's as if she knows me or something.

There are approximately 25 "To-Do before we leave" lists floating around the house that all of the same thing on them.  I keep misplacing one and then making a new one.  I feel like I should have it committed to memory at this point, but no such luck.

I haven't finished one of the projects that I need to before we leave, but I have found time to look up new Disney projects on Pinterest.  Because clearly, I'm a girl who knows her priorities.

I mean, it was far more important last night to make these than it was to do laundry:

Doesn't everyone make chocolate covered strawberries that are Disney themed to prepare for their trip?

No, just me?

Well you're missing out.  Alaina and I had so much fun making them and they sure were delicious to eat last night while I was packing sitting on the couch watching television.

Tonight I am hoping to cross at least a few more things off the list...or bake some chocolate chip cookies for the car trip.

Five Years

My baby girl is five.  Five.  I swear it was just yesterday that I was going into labor and looked like this...

You don't have to tell me how radiant I am.  It's not pregnancy glow, it's nine months worth of built up sweat.  All things considered, it's not as bad as it could be for a woman who is less than 24 hours away from giving birth.

But alas it wasn't yesterday because this grinning face stares back at me every morning from the backseat.

And in school pictures cheesing for the camera as usual.

She really was the happiest baby ever and has turned into the happiest little girl, always smiling and laughing at the tiniest things.  Right now she is EXTRA happy because we told her that we are taking her to Disney World!  If I aimed a little higher I would have those pictures uploaded, but let's be real here.  Taking a 3 hour nap on Sunday when all our company left was far more important than staring at a laptop.  I'll get around to it before we leave.  Mostly because my friend CC took most of the pictures and at some point she is going to want her camera back.  

So for today I will just say Happy Birthday to my sweet baby girl.  I am so, so lucky to be your mama.  

All Roads Lead to Disney

Next month we are taking a trip to Disney World.  This may not seem like a major announcement or revelation and a month ago I would have agreed with you.  It's a vacation like any other, right?

Wrong.  Very, very, VERY wrong.

People, I am out of control.

When I say out of control, I mean OUT of control.  To quote Joey, "You're so far past the line, you can't even see the line!  The line is a dot to you!"  You know I can't pass up an opportunity to throw in a Friends reference when it's applicable (as if it's ever not applicable).

Prior to two weeks ago I had made maybe one purchase from Etsy in my history.  I now have 6 orders pending that have not shipped yet.  In case you were concerned about my bank account, don't be.  All Disney things I purchase before we go is less I am going to be gouged on at the Magic Kingdom, right?  Because I will get it out of my system prior to arrival there and won't need to purchase things there.

That's a lie and we all know it.  But the silver lining is that I get Skymiles from my card so at least I'll be able to rack up some extra airline points.  Of course I won't be able to afford to go anywhere, but that is entirely beside the point.  

I have spent a ridiculous amount of time booking a character dinner, looking at fast passes, and crafting all manner of cute things to wear while we are there.  The rest of the time has been spent trying to figure out what shoes are going to kill me feet the least while walking approximately 254 miles a day, give or take.  Normally I would wear tennis shoes, but we're talking Florida in July, surrounded by 60,000 people which I am pretty sure is exactly the same as standing directly on the equator.  There has got to be a better option that allows my feet to breathe.  Any suggestions are welcome.  If you tell me not to go to Disney in July I swear I will wish for a swarm of mosquitos to infiltrate your bedroom.  It was not my idea.

So I apologize because I promised to blog more but it is going to be Disney centered for at least the next month.  If you geek out on the Mouse the way I do, stick around.  If not, come back the beginning of August.  You'll be just in time to see me curl up in the fetal position because my baby is starting kindergarten.

You can thank me later.

Weirdest Birthday Request Ever

One of my favorite parts of the day is driving to and from school with Alaina.  She is generally a chatty cathy anyway, but something about being in the car really revs her up!  Her favorite topic as of late is anything related to 'Frozen' (while singing at the top of her lungs) and her upcoming birthday.  Yesterday I asked her what presents she would like expecting something about a new doll or sparkly earrings.

I was not prepared for her response.

After asking for a Nerf Gun (already done), things got weird.  Next on her list was a crystal ball to find things that she lost but, "it has to have magic in it or it won't work, okay?"  Aight.  I'm not sure what exactly she has lost that she's looking for but I'd love to have one of those too.  Anyone know where I can find one?  Last time I checked Target and TJ Maxx don't carry crystal balls.  

Then it got weirder.

The next item on her list was bottles.  When pressed for why she would need a baby bottle since she is a big girl, she stated that they were for her baby brother or sister.

Say WHAT???

"But sweetie, I am not having a baby so we don't need any bottles."

"But you're going to and when you do we are going to need bottles so let's go ahead and get some."  I sputtered some sort of response and quickly changed the subject.  I am not sure exactly what my sweet daughter is seeing in that crystal ball of hers but last time I checked there was nothing growing in my uterus.

But I might have to swing by the store on the way home...just in case.  After all, the Magic Eight Ball hasn't let me down yet.  

Intention

I am a terrible writer.  It's true, I am.  Not because my content is awful or because I make heinous grammatical errors (I do) but because I have absolutely no consistency.  For as long as I can remember, I have been in love with the written word.  The last two decades of my life have been spent jotting down quotes and reading everything I could get my hands on.  I was the nerdy girl in the corner or the coffee house by herself, pausing only to scribble down inspiration on a napkin.  Maybe one day I'll actually do something with them and be the next J.K. Rowling.  Which is totally possible except not at all because I am a terrible writer.  The problem with my writing is the exact same as my biggest overall flaw.

I lack follow-through.  By lack I mean, absolutely none.  I have tons of great, inspired ideas.  I have flashes of brilliance when I sit down and the words that pour out of me are pure magic.  I sit back and feel energy and exhaustion coursing through my veins simultaneously.  I look at the screen and I know that I can do this.  I can write things that challenge and inspire people.  I can publish my novel.  I get up and walk away from the computer on cloud nine.  

And then I do nothing.  If I am being a super slacker, I might not even touch it again for weeks.  If I am at least attempting to stay on track, I will sit down and try to connect the brilliant moments into something semi resembling a completed story.  Those forced words are complete crap.  I know it, they know it and every person who reads the manuscript knows it.  I throw my hands up in frustration and just walk away from it completely, leaving it to collect dust in the darkest corner of my hard drive.  Substitute blog post for novel and it's the same thing all over again.  Brilliant ideas, almost none get finished and posted.

My word of the year for 2014 is 'Intention'.  My goal was/is to stop being haphazard and make intentional choices in order to accomplish the things that I want to accomplish.  I was going to buckle down and do things.

We are halfway through the year and thus far, I have failed miserably.   I didn't post anything here for the first five months and I haven't touched my novel once.  Granted, there have been a few unforeseen complications, but I am not here to make excuses.  I am here to stop and commit to spending the second half of the year embracing the word I chose.  So that is what I am going to do.  I make no guarantees that anything I write will be decent, but I will at least begin by actually finishing and posting the things I write.  It's progress, right?

Love Letters: How we co-labor

Every month I read the love letters that Amber and Seth write back and forth to each other and every month I write my own with the same topic.  While I have yet to come up with the courage to actually post mine here, I love that they encourage me to look at different aspects of my relationship and appreciate all of the goodness that it holds.  This month the theme was, "How we co-labor" and you can read their versions here and here.  While I am still not brave enough to post the letter here in it's entirety, I wanted to share some of my thoughts.

When I read the words "co-labor" the first image that popped into my head was of my favorite childhood game: the three-legged race.  I was never particularly athletic or coordinated with regards to organized sports.  My batting average would be .005, if that, should anyone have actually kept track of it.  I couldn't hit a basket from 3 feet away and lost every game of 'HORSE' I ever played.  But the three-legged race?  That I could do.

Many thought that the secret was to choose a partner who was the same height as you, who would then run at approximately the same speed as you, making it easier to stay in sync.

They were wrong.

The secret wasn't picking the perfect partner; the secret was figuring out how to run the race with the partner that you picked.  You stand side by side facing the finish line, arms wrapped tightly around each others waist, so that you can feel the other person's movements.  You can't run in sync if you don't know how your partner is running.  The basics are discussed, a general strategy is mapped out and then the race is starting.  You begin to run, slowly at first and then picking up speed as you both find your rhythm, moving together as one body.  Your partner begins to run a little faster than you are able; you make a gentle tug on their waist, as if to say, "wait for me."  She shortens her stride to match yours and both heels pound the pavement in perfect time again.  She doesn't mind slowing a bit if it keeps you running as one.  She knows sprinting ahead without staying well-connected leads to stumbling and if not gotten under control, leads to full-blown crashes with bloody skinned knees and tangled limbs.

It doesn't matter if it isn't the same way the couple next to you runs.  Staring at them means you're not paying attention to your own partner, the one whom you chose and are bound to.  What works for the two of you might not work for another couple.

We work together the same way we run.

She speeds up to match my longer strides, as she tugs on my hand to slow me down.  I chop onions because she hates smelling them raw; she makes the rice because while I can make dark chocolate buttercream from scratch, I can't master rice and you can't have chicken and rice without the rice.  She bathes the baby so I can finish writing.  I wake up on Saturday morning with the same baby so she can sleep longer.  She can't stop compulsively cleaning and I put whatever I don't want moved in my purse because I learned that is the only thing she doesn't organize.  (I can barely carry it, but I know where everything is when I need it now).  We sacrifice self for the beauty of what we're creating together.  We recognize the sacrifice and are deeply grateful.  We run the race side by side, for the sheer love of it, thrilled simply to be running it together.