Progress...and a snafu or two

I am starting to feel like I am living in an HGTV episode. You know the ones where everything that can go wrong, does go wrong? The ones that leave viewers thinking “HOW predictable! OF COURSE everything goes wrong!”

That is my life right now with this home renovation project. Last weekend, I was feeling great, seeing the light at the end of the tunnel. We were slowly but surely getting rid of debris, and I painted a room!

Progress!

Another room needed a bit more drywall work, and then it would be ready to paint.

Progress!                    

I had a plan for what would be accomplished each day and where I would be by the end of this weekend. I am going out of town for a work trip on Tuesday and will be gone for three days. Last weekend, I painted the home office area, and I decided I would feel quite pleased with myself if I had the dining room and downstairs hallway painted by the time I had to leave on my trip. Then, I planned to spend next weekend beginning work on my kitchen cabinets. I know that is going to be a massive amount of work that is going to take some time, but once they are finished, all that will be left to do before the flooring can be placed is to paint the kitchen and family room. Again, a lot of work still to do, I know, but like I said, I was starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel. I told Tony that if we stuck to the plan, we could have it all finished and start moving everything back in by mid-July. I even wrote these deadlines I gave myself in my planner, thinking that if they were visible to me each day, I would be more likely to stick to them and not give in to laziness on days and nights when I wasn’t in the mood to work and would rather sit on the porch with a book and a frosty drink.

You know what they say about the best laid plans, right?

On Sunday afternoon, Tony had a bicycle accident and broke his elbow and a bone in his hand.

So much for the perfect plan. He won’t be able to do anything using his right arm (and he is right handed) for 12 weeks.

Nothing got done on the house during the week at all, until Friday night when Lauren and I, with guidance and some help from Tony, pulled the old carpet off the stairs.

All week, I felt rather defeated and down about the wasted days, but there really wasn’t much I could do anyway because the drywall work in the dining room wasn’t finished.

I am happy to say I finally gave myself a kick in the pants and decided to look on the bright side of things, because really, in the grand scheme of it all, what is a little ol’ delay, huh? The work will be finished eventually, and in the meantime, I really don’t have to clean much since everything is filthy and there is not really anything that can be done about it at the moment. Another bonus is that now, I don’t have to feel rushed to get the cabinets finished, and I can take my time with all the rest of the painting as well. To celebrate my shiny new positive attitude, I even bought some flowers for the kitchen so that I can have at least one thing in this house that is pretty to look at.

 

Tony managed to finish the drywall work with one hand and my help, and I came up with a new plan, a much more relaxed plan than the first one.

Plan B hit a snafu, too.

Thursday night, one of the girls was taking a shower, and water started pouring into the kitchen from the upstairs bathroom. We had a similar problem a couple of years ago, but it had been fixed, and there had been no water leakage issues since.

Now, my already gross kitchen looks like this:

 

Rachel’s boyfriend was over hanging out yesterday, and Tony put him to work cutting a hole in the ceiling so that he could try to figure out where the leak was coming from. He was a trooper, and with Tony’s guidance, they found the cause of the leak.

 

When one-armed Tony tried to remove the offending joint and piece of pipe, he ended up breaking the main line from the bathroom.

Oh, the fun just never ends around here!

He cleaned up and went to Home Depot intending to buy the pieces he needs to fix it, and wouldn’t you know, Home Depot doesn’t sell those things. He will have to purchase them at a plumbing supply store, or call a plumber.

And, it’s a holiday weekend, so no plumbing stores will be open until Tuesday.

And, the man swears he is not going to call a plumber.

Tony is a very handy guy and can do just about anything. However, I fear that he may have bitten off more than he can chew when it comes to fixing the main water line, above his head, with one arm.

Lord, help me. I am praying that he doesn’t cause more damage when he tries to fix it.

In the meantime, I present the one room (our home office) that is finished and ready for a new floor.  One down, four to go.

Before:

 

During:

 

And after: (The white part under the chair rail will have picture frame molding once Tony has the use of his arm back).

 

Coming up next is the dining room and hallway. They look like this at the moment:

 

 

 

 

Hopefully, by tomorrow, at least one of them will be coated in a creamy yellow.

While this home renovation project has turned into way more than I expected it to be, I am rather enjoying it all, even with the setbacks we have already encountered. I have been doing a lot of reminiscing and writing about so many memories from when we were planning and building this house along with reflecting on good and bad times spent here. I originally planned to blog about the whole sprucing up process, but I have a sneaky feeling it is going to end up being way more than that as time goes on. Somedays, I write and write, and I am rather enjoying that, too.
Until next time, Adios from the chaotic construction zone. Hopefully, the coming week will be less eventful than the last.

Dancing in the...Dust

When we moved into our house nearly 22 years ago, I thought I was the luckiest person. We were moving from a house that had been built in the 1970s (and was still stuck there!) It was a great house with a big, beautiful yard, a gorgeous tree right outside the front door and neighbors that we loved.

However, we didn’t own it, and I did not love the harvest gold appliances and bathroom fixtures. While I loved the huge kitchen, I most definitely did not love the dark fake-wood ornate cabinets or the floor that looked like various sizes of pebbles in all shades of orange, gold and brown. All of those things may have been quite groovy in the 70s, but in the 90s, they were just blech. And ugly.

When we decided to build this house, I wanted most every surface to be white. White floor. White countertop. White appliances. White walls. You get the picture. Our house was so sparkling white it was blinding.

Not really blinding, but it was very pristine with not a speck of ugly dark brown or harvest gold. We did however choose hunter green carpet (it was the 90s after all!). For some reason, I loved that carpet. When the house was being built, the builder called one day to tell us it was our last chance to change any of the flooring we picked out because he was ordering it all that day. We briefly talked about changing the carpet color to tan, but decided what the hell? If we got tired of it, we would replace it.

Yeah, that did not happen.

If I had been able to look into a crystal ball in 1994 to see that my beloved hunter green carpet would be the harvest gold and avocado green of the 90s, I wouldn’t have chosen it because I grew tired of it less than 10 years after moving in. By then, we had 4 kiddos and no extra money to replace carpet. Also, it held up very well and still looked “good” so it was harder to justify ripping it up. And I grew to hate it. My decorating taste has changed more than once over the years, and it was always hard to pick new paint colors because it had to look good with that hunter green carpet.

But, 22 years ago, I loved every single thing about this house. Everything. I walked around the empty rooms the day we closed, taking it all in, thinking of how I would decorate each room, dreaming of the memories we would make here with our children, one of whom was still in my belly, just 2 weeks away from being born!

Like I said, I loved it all. I loved the front porch that already had a chair waiting for my 9 months pregnant self to sit in while I bossed everyone around and told those who were helping us move where to put things. I loved the crisp white vinyl floor in the kitchen and the oak parquet in the hallway. I loved the hunter green carpet. I loved the white countertops and the golden oak cabinets. I had just been relieved of 8 weeks of bedrest the day before, and I couldn’t wait to put my beautiful, spacious kitchen together. I loved the white walls that were a blank canvas just waiting to be coated with pretty paint colors and wallpaper.

This house has been through many transformations since then. I have wallpapered and ripped down wallpaper while cursing and swearing that as God is my witness, I will never wallpaper again. I have painted and repainted so many times I can't even remember how many. We covered the white vinyl kitchen and bathroom floors with ceramic tile. We finished and refinished the basement, bought new furniture and curtains and replaced the fake wood baseboards. We have rearranged kid’s bedrooms as our family grew. Yet sadly, the hated hunter green carpet survived every single one of my redecorating escapades. But alas, the time has come! I have said, “Adios!” And, “Good riddance!” to most of the green carpet. It is still on the stairs and in the upstairs, but there is not a trace of it downstairs. There are now 38 boxes of beautiful wood flooring waiting to be placed throughout the whole first level. Yay and yahoo!

There aren’t enough adjectives to describe how I feel about that. Giddy is the first one that comes to mind.

And those piddly little makeovers of the past? They are nothing like the transformation my beloved home is going through now.

This renovation that started out with us only replacing the carpet in the dining room and office area has turned into one of those “If you give a mouse a cookie” situations.

*If you decide to replace the flooring, you are going to realize that you simply cannot have beautiful new floors with walls that haven’t been painted in years. So you are going to want to paint them.

*If you paint the walls, you truly must paint all of the white baseboards and doors and trim. Because who wants beautiful new floors, freshly painted walls and dirty white trim?

Not me.

*If you have pristine new white baseboards and trim with newly painted walls, you really must paint the ceilings, too. Right?

*And if you are putting beautiful new floors down in the kitchen, the 22 year old cabinets that need some love and attention just won’t do any longer. Will they?

Nope.

*And if you decide that you are going to finally take the plunge after years of thinking about it and paint your kitchen cabinets, well, the old, stained white countertops that bleach won’t even clean will feel left out if you don’t replace them. Won’t they?

Yep.

All of the above is where I have been over the past month.

In my head anyway.

Right now, I am in the painting ceilings and trim phase while walking across dirty subfloors that are crying out to be new and pretty and loved. Not only are they dirty and oh-so-gross, I can’t walk through my house barefoot because of the nails and staples in the subfloor that we are slowly but surely smashing down with a hammer. These Sketcher sandals have become my very good friend over the past month.

 

My plan at the beginning was to blog about it as we progressed, and that clearly has not happened, but I have been taking photos along the way. Don’t be jealous now. I just know that everyone dreams of living in a home that looks like this!

 

Those are photos that have been taken over the past month as we have ripped all of the flooring from our downstairs. I gotta admit that while I loved that vinyl flooring in 1994, when we uncovered it a few weeks ago, I wasn't feeling the love.

We have progressed, though, and this is what my house looks like today.

 

I am starting to see the light at the end of the tunnel, and yesterday, I finally was able to start painting. So far, I have only painted the ceilings and trim in the dining room and office space. I have chosen a paint color to cover up the red, and my next project is to primer over the red walls. I used to love that red, but it is time for that color to go, too.

My house is definitely a work in progress at the moment, and while I hate what I am living in now, I know (hope!) it will be so worth it when we are finished.  

I will have to keep reminding myself to dance in the dust and find things to love and enjoy about the process as I sweep and hammer and paint and breathe some love back into this home.

 

Easy Like Sunday

Easy Like Sunday…

I have somewhat of a love/hate relationship with Sundays. On one hand, I love them because they are typically slow-paced and quiet. That’s my favorite kind of Sunday, anyway, and while not every one of my Sunday’s IS that way, I sure cherish those that are.

Easy like Sunday mornings…

Tony leaves early on Sunday mornings for long runs with the dogs, Rachel and Justin usually sleep in late because it’s the one day a week no one has to be anywhere early. I normally awake pretty early, so that means I have lots of quiet time to read, crochet or watch a movie. When the weather is decent, I love settling into a rocking chair on the porch and when it's not, on the couch with a quilt and a steaming cup of coffee, relaxing in the knowing that I don’t have to rush off anywhere.

I also love Sunday mornings because it is the one day of week I can take the time to make a good breakfast, one that sometimes turns into brunch by the time everyone rousts themselves from sleep. I love the routine of making homemade cinnamon rolls or chocolate chip waffles or pumpkin muffins that we all eat in our pjs before we’ve showered and prepared ourselves for the day. I love the smell of bacon sizzling in the oven, and that is often what encourages the kids to rise and shine and call down the stairs, “Is that bacon I smell?” A cheesy eggy potato-y casserole baking in the crockpot when I wake up in the morning makes me downright giddy. What I love most of all about these Sunday breakfasts is that my family loves and looks forward to the comforting routine of them. Before anyone makes plans, they always ask me on Saturday night if I am making breakfast and if I can make it early before they leave. Justin has a newish girlfriend who often stays over on Saturday night because she lives kind of far away; it made my heart sing the first time she was staying and he told her, “Oh, you will love my mom-she makes awesome breakfasts on Sunday mornings!” He has been talking about moving out, and he told me a few weeks ago that Sunday breakfast will be what he most misses. He asked if he could still come over for breakfast if/when he does.

I love that.

I also love that my girls’ friends who often spend the night even ask me on Saturday night what breakfast I’m making the next morning. And when Lauren is home, as she is on this frosty winter Sunday, I love knowing that 3 of my 4 children are safe and snug under my roof.

This Sunday morning was especially a good one. Things in my life have been so hectic and crazy that I haven’t made many Sunday breakfasts lately. A couple of weekends, no one was home but me, and as much as I love a big breakfast, I don’t make them for myself. I’ve barely even been cooking dinner lately as I get home too late and too tired to do much more than throw some chicken nuggets and tater tots on a baking tray. Some days, that even seems like too much trouble, so we’ve been eating a lot of pizza. One night this week when I had to work late, Tony and Justin ate cereal for dinner.

 I hate that.

Life is still crazy, and I had a million other things I should have been doing today and yesterday, but Lauren was home, and I decided I was stepping away from all of the “I should be...” guilt and just enjoying the weekend. And it’s been so great, and very much (desperately!) needed. I spent the whole day yesterday with my girlie, then last night all of us, including Lauren’s best friend, Justin’s girlfriend and Rachel’s boyfriend, went bowling. Oh, we had so much fun. I knew everyone would be sleeping in this morning, but I of course was up before dawn. It was snowing, and oh so beautiful, and I decided to make a big batch of cinnamon rolls to surprise everyone. I haven’t made them in forever, and I found such comfort in sinking my hands into a huge, squishy pile of warm yeasty deliciousness.

I also took some time to work on a blanket I started crocheting back in the fall. I haven’t taken the time to work on it in months, and I love that it is now big enough that it serves two purposes…one, to warm my lap as I worked on this cold morning, and two, to soothe and calm me in a way that nothing else can.

It is afternoon now, and everyone is out and about, leaving me home with more quiet time. I sat down at my computer to do some work that I know I will regret not doing when tomorrow comes, but I couldn’t do it. I am not sure what drew me to write for my blog when I haven’t written here in over a year, but something did. And I decided to go with it. So, instead of doing work that needs to be done for my job, I started a load of laundry, made a pot of coffee, and settled in to write. I couldn’t think of a better way right now to spend a chilly, alone afternoon, and I am loving it.

The craziness of the week ahead will have to wait.  J

On another note, I started a “project” on January 1 that I am really having fun with. I decided that I am going to take a picture of something every day for the entire year. I have this new camera that is completely awesome, that I am mostly completely clueless how to use, and I have signed up for a class in February. I’m still in the phase of “oh, crap, I forgot to take a photo today” while scrambling, sometimes late at night, to figure out what to take a photo of, but I am hoping that it will soon become a habit.

Here are some of my favorite daily pics so far.

 

I have realized over the past few years that while it is quite a nice feeling to have all of the Christmas decorations put away and have the house clean and back in some sort of order, I miss the lights that I put everywhere. I miss driving up to my house and seeing it look so festive and welcoming. So, for the past few years, I’ve started leaving some things up, but giving them a winter vibe rather than a Christmas vibe. I leave out things snowman/snowflake related, and I try to incorporate a strand or two of Christmas lights that I leave up until closer to spring. (Indoors, only!) This is my favorite spot right now…my dining room. I plug in the lights each day as soon as I walk in the door from work.

 

I have been slowly collecting some fun new things to use in the kitchen, and these bowls make my heart smile every time I look at them. I put them to good use over the holiday season!

 

 

I had so much fun over the holidays trying some new recipes, and this was one of my favorites. I made these little beauties to take to an after-New-Year’s-party at my cousins. They were a bit time consuming, but they were sooooo tasty! I bought those cute little phyllo shells already made, cut up cubes of brie, topped them with a dab of cranberry sauce that I made, put a  few chopped pecans on top of that, drizzled them with a bit of maple syrup, and baked them until the cheese was melted. I will definitely be making these again.

 

There have been so many breathtaking sunrises and sunsets lately. I have no words to describe them, so I’m not even going to try. I will just let this picture speak for itself.

 

I took this one this morning. I can’t wait to get this blanket finished and snuggle up under it on chilly days. I will probably have to share it with the cat like I do all of my other blankets, but that’s okay. I love how this is turning out. (I seem to have a thing for polka dots, huh?)

 

I’m going to close with this...a necklace I bought for someone I have become very close to the past year. When I saw it in a shop in downtown St. Charles, I knew I had to buy it, but I couldn’t decide if I wanted to keep it or give it to her. I didn’t keep it, but I am going back to the shop and ask if she can make another one. (It is handmade) REFUSE TO SINK is a reminder I need, and even if I can’t get another necklace, I will be carrying that thought with me in the coming months. 

It feels really good to be back here writing.

Coming and Going

19 years ago, I was hugely pregnant in the midst of one of the hottest summers on record in St. Louis. That summer, I barely left the comfort of my house. My husband did a lot of the errand-running for me that summer while I spent a lot of time cooling my big pregnant body in a blow up kiddy pool in our backyard.

19 years ago, my sweet girl Lauren was coming. A baby girl after two boys.

19 years ago, after two boys, her room was fully stocked with all things pink and frilly. A few dresses in her closet. The bottom half of the walls in her room were sponge painted in mint green, yellow and pink, the top was a cheery, lemony yellow, and a pretty watercolory wallpaper border wrapped around the room dividing the two. White eyelet curtains with pink gingham ribbon trim framed the windows. A white bookshelf between the windows held books, a squishy pink doll that was stitched with “My First Doll,” pastel stuffed animals and whatever other girlie trinket I could find. A bundle of pastel satin balloons hung on the wall above the crib that was waiting for her. A white dresser held more little ruffled socks than any baby would ever need, and a music box on top of that dresser played “You are my Sunshine.” She already owned her first pair of shoes—tiny black patent leather Mary Jane’s that I imagined her wearing on her first Christmas.

19 years ago, I was sewing my first ever (and only ever!) quilt, one that had rows of eyelet woven with pink ribbon and edged with a yellow satin ruffle.  At night after Brandon and Justin were tucked in their beds, I would go into Lauren’s room, rock in the rocking chair with my hands on my belly and talk to her. I talked to her about all of the hopes and dreams I had for her.  I envisioned dance recitals and gymnastics classes. I thought of myself as a little girl and all of the things I had wished I could do, and I promised her that not only would she always be cherished and loved, but that I would do whatever I could to make all of her dreams come true. That summer, Elton John, who is one of my all-time favorite singers, released a song called Blessed, and every time I heard it, I thought of the baby girl I was carrying:

Hey you, you're a child in my head
You haven't walked yet
Your first words have yet to be said
But I swear you'll be blessed

I know you're still just a dream
your eyes might be green
Or the bluest that I've ever seen
Anyway you'll be blessed

And you, you'll be blessed
You'll have the best
I promise you that
I'll pick a star from the sky
Pull your name from a hat
I promise you that, promise you that, promise you that

To this day, when I hear that song, I tear up and remember the summer that I was expecting Lauren.

19 years ago, my bags were already packed and waiting by the front door since I had preterm labor with Justin at 29 weeks, and I was worried it would happen again. One of those bags, I cute mint green and white diaper bag, held her coming home outfit--a sweet little pink and white onsie with eyelet and pink ribbon trim. Yeah, I liked eyelet.

19 years ago, though her birth was still a month away, I was ready.

19 years ago, I was waiting for Lauren to come.

Now, a day away, Lauren is going.

It’s not been a summer anything at all like the one I spent waiting for her arrival. It’s definitely not hot like that summer 19 years ago when I would sometimes go into the grocery store and leave my car running so that it would stay cool while I was gone. In fact, it’s been a rather cool and rainy, not at all a normal St. Louis summer. And I haven’t been as excited for her going as I was for her coming. Don’t get me wrong, I’m thrilled for her. I love her school. I think she is going to thrive there. But waiting for her to go has been different than waiting for her to come.

I digress.

Lauren’s room is still fully stocked. Very fully stocked. Shelves of trophies have replaced the shelves of stuffed animals and dolls and books.  Her walls, that are now blue rather than pink and mint green and yellow, are almost completely covered with posters of Cardinals baseball players, photos of her friends and her artwork.

No more music boxes for this girl. But her room does have a drum set.

The drawers of frilly socks have been replaced with black Adidas basketball socks, lots of them, that cost $12 a pair. A PAIR!! No Mary Janes have graced her feet since she was four. No ballet shoes have graced her feet since she was four either.

But, she does have shiny black Nike basketball high tops. More than one pair.

She’s never done a back flip on a mat in a gym, but she has been elbowed in the nose, knocked around, gotten floor burns on her legs and worse burns on her ego.

Her closet no longer holds frilly pink things like it did 19 years ago. Instead, it contains a myriad of shirts with team logos and hoods and athletic symbols. There hasn’t been a dress in her closet for many years.

Her room, her life, is stocked with things and dreams I never imagined 19 years ago when I cradled her in my belly while I rocked her and talked to her about all of the dreams I wished to come true for her.

Her life is now stocked with the things that are HER hopes and dreams, not mine.

Our living room is stocked now, too. It is stocked with the things that she has loved and the things that will accompany her going.

No more frilly quilts edged with satin and eyelet. Instead, a thick warm lime green and turquoise comforter that is so soft, I want to wrap myself up in it.

As she brought the very last thing that is going to college with her downstairs this afternoon and plunked it on the living room floor, it reminded me of a cute little diaper bag that once sat in almost the same exact spot, ready for her to come into the world. Now, it’s a very large Vera Bradley duffel bag that she received as a graduation gift.

She is going.

The pile of stuff in my living room proves that she is. Just as a mint green and pink and yellow room brimming with stuff proved she was coming 19 years ago.

I started writing this post very late last night. I put it aside because it seemed too scrambled and unorganized. This afternoon, Lauren brought me a folder with all of the letters she has gotten from her college over the past months, and I found it very ironic that their motto is “Dream Up.” I knew that, but didn’t give it much thought until today, with thoughts of this post I started writing last night very fresh in my mind. Some of the things she has received from them say things like, “Dream Big!,” and, “Follow your Dreams!” And always, “Dream Up!”

She is doing all of those things, right along with me. I can’t help but think now of the dreams I had for her 19 years ago when I dreamed of a happy, confident girl who would find her way much easier than I did. Dreams of a girl who knew she could do whatever she wanted. Those dreams of mine, perhaps the most important dreams of all, have come true, even if they came true in ways I never imagined 19 years ago.

I still have the same dreams for her that I had 19 years ago when I was waiting for her to arrive. I still promise her she will always be cherished and loved.

Unlike 19 years ago when the words to that Elton John song resonated so much with my heart, she has taken her first steps. She has said her first words. She’s no longer just a dream. Yet the lyrics of that song still resonate with my heart. She is getting ready to take her first new steps. She is getting ready to find a new voice. Whatever her life is to be is now her dream. And that is just how it should be.

My only dream now is that she is happy and makes her dreams come true.

And I pray that she’ll always be blessed.

Whatever

No, I have not been possessed by a teenaged girl with an attitude. My home has possibly been possessed by a teenaged girl or two, and maybe a boy who is no longer a teenager with an attitude, but not me.

This post wasn’t inspired by teenaged girls at all. It was inspired by a wooden plaque in my bathroom.

I know. I sure am inspired by crazy things sometimes, aren’t I?

This really isn’t as crazy as it sounds though.

Last summer, I redecorated my downstairs bathroom in a beachy theme. It wasn’t a total renovation or anything—I just painted the walls a shade of blue that reminds me of the Gulf of Mexico on a sunny day. I also purchased a few accessories that fit with the theme and color scheme and framed a few of my favorite beach photos for the walls.

And while it has nothing to do with the beach, I bought this plaque at Hobby Lobby because I liked the quote and it matched.

I liked the quote quite a lot. But, while it’s been in the bathroom for almost a year, I never really gave much thought to the words or the sentiment until a couple of days ago when I reached for the towel hanging below it to dry my hands.

Whatever is true

Whatever is noble

Whatever is right

Whatever is pure

Whatever is lovely

Whatever is admirable…

Think on these things.

On that particular day, those words really resonated with me, perhaps because have been thinking a lot and talking a lot lately about happiness with Justin, how happiness can’t come from someone else, and we often have to make our own. I told him that sometimes, I really have to force myself to do things that make me happy, even when I really don’t want to, but at the same time, I don’t want to be miserable. I told him that he can’t let what someone else does, that is out of his control, make him happy or unhappy.

Yeah, I don’t always practice what I preach. Sometimes, I find myself saying things to him that make me go hmmmm….I used to be pretty good at forcing myself to think happy thoughts and do happy things, but I don’t always do the best at that anymore, and I told him that sometimes, we have to work harder at being happy than we do at others. I’ve told him that it is at the precise times when we are most unhappy that it is the most important that we do that hard work. When we do, it’s worth the effort it takes.  I told him that very often, it is much easier to focus on negative things than positive things, but sometimes, you can’t help yourself. I was also sure to tell him that sometimes, the more you think on the negative and bad things, the more likely it is that you will focus your attention on those things. It’s a vicious circle, one that makes you feel worse when you get caught up in it.  

That’s some pretty fantastical rambling right there, eh? That is where my mind and heart have been lately.

The timing was just right for that sign to catch my eye on that day. Those words really made me stop and think. And they made me want to write for the first time in quite a while.

I know, I haven’t written here for a long, long while. I haven’t written anything at all for a long while, and it’s making me feel very out of sorts because normally, I love to write. Most people who know me know that.

So why is it that when I have so much I want to say, so many things that have been happening, so very many feelings and thoughts I want to get out of my head, those are the times I have the hardest time of all actually writing? Aren’t people who love to write supposed to process things by, oh, actually writing about them?

Why can’t I do that? Why can’t I just sit down and write the things I want to write?

That is a question I have asked myself so many times over the past 6 or so months. I want the words to flow. On my knees in front of my computer, I beg them to. (Not really on my knees, but mentally, yes. I am ON MY KNEES. Begging.) But the words—they don’t come. 

Tonight, that plaque in my bathroom has inspired me. And a quiet house has inspired me. There is no one here who needs me to fix anything, cook anything, wash anything or clean anything. No advice needs to be given, no hurting hearts need to be soothed. All is calm and quiet. I don’t even have a light on in my house other than the small lamp on my desk. The only sound is the quiet hum of the dishwasher. I was sitting outside, but other noises—the hum of swarming mosquitos and the sound of my hand slapping them away--drove me indoors.

It’s been a rough few months around here. Really, really, incredibly rough.  No other way to say it. It’s been a bigger challenge than I thought it would be having Justin home. I naively thought that once he was home, I would stop worrying about how he is doing. I was wrong. So very wrong.  I’ve had worries weighing so heavily on me that the usual bag of tricks I dip into when I need a distraction or a knot dissolved from my gut hasn’t worked so well for me. I have tried. Really, I have. Although to be honest, some days, I’m so mentally drained that I don’t even try, and that is a new thing for me.

Hence the topic of this post. As I really noticed and paid attention to that quote painted on that small piece of wood in my bathroom, I realized that in my quest to force myself to focus on some good things in the midst of chaos, uncertainty and worry I have been focusing on those things without even realizing I was.

True, noble, right, pure, lovely and admirable.

True:   authentic, genuine, sincere, dependable, not deceitful

While it’s been oh so difficult to do at times, I am being true to myself, even on bad days when I melt down and cry. I have given myself permission to be wherever I am on any given day. Mostly though, I am being true to the kind of mother I have always dreamt of being—not just the fun mom who takes her kids to do fun things and welcomes everyone into our home and bakes yummy treats—but the mom that my kids know they can count on, the mom that they come to when they are hurting, the mom they know will always be there and always love them no matter what stupid thing they have done or what they want to talk about. (Disclaimer:  While I have always strived to be that kind of mom, it’s not an easy thing to do. Some days, I think I would much prefer to bury my head in the sand and not know what is going on in their lives. But then again, at the end of the day, it’s nice to know I am “that kind” of mom that I always want to be). It is surely not easy  to sit and watch your son cry, but I’m so happy that he knows he can, that he knows he can depend on me when he’s having a rough time.

 

Noble: high minded, loftiness of character that scorns the petty or mean, suggests greatness of mind or soul, especially as manifested in generosity

Several things about my life lately fall into this category. For one, I have turned into the world’s greatest cheerleader. While I am often screaming inside and the Mama Bear in me wants to punch someone in the face, I am keeping those thoughts to myself and telling whatever child is involved at the time to take the high road, not stoop to someone else’s low level, give the person you really want to punch the benefit of the doubt, don’t burn any bridges, blah blah blah…

Something else I find myself doing a great deal of lately is focusing on doing something for someone else when I am feeling especially bitchy and grouchy. It really does my soul good to find a way to brighten someone else’s day. I find it especially fulfilling to do something nice for someone who is the cause of me feeling bitchy and grouchy. I figure it’s a much better use of my time and energy than dreaming of punching them in the face. J

Right: fitting or appropriate, in accordance with what is good, proper or just, to put in proper order, condition or relationship, appropriate, good, honest, deserved, honorable, moral, proper

See cheerleader paragraph above.

As for “putting in proper order,” I spend a great deal of time prioritizing what I should be doing, stressing about and/or worrying about. I spend a great deal of time asking myself, “Will this matter a year from now?” If the answer is no, I do my best to let that worry go. If the answer is yes, then it’s pretty high on my priority list to do what I can to take care of it and make it better if I there is any way I can.

Pure: free from extraneous matter, simple or homogeneous

I am definitely using my time to find simple things to enjoy:

Coffee in my favorite mug on my favorite porch rocking chair—the way I force myself to spend a part of the morning, even if it’s going to be a crazy busy day and I really don’t have time for that. I make the time. And while I am porch sitting in the morning, I try to banish all worries and negative thoughts and focus instead on the baby bunnies nibbling the grass.

Spending an early Sunday morning watching The Breakfast Club.
Teaching Lauren the fine art of porch sitting. She often will come sit with me at night, and even when we don’t talk and she is on her phone, I enjoy it immensely.

 

The mouth-watering aroma of overflowing pots of herbs on my deck. I got a food processor for my birthday that is patiently waiting to make oodles of pesto. Mmmmm….

Freshly picked blueberries.

 

Shopping for St. Louisy stuff for my brother.

Visiting sites around St. Louis taking photos of 250^th birthday cakes that are scattered around the city.

 

Decorating for Rachel's 16th birthday party.

Stopping on the way home from work to walk along the river.

Spending a weekend with my brother, who I didn’t see for almost 30 years.

 

A sweet birthday card, perhaps the best I’ve ever been given. So sweet in fact that I carry it in my purse and probably have the note written on the inside memorized. It was given to me by my boss and was so unexpected, and it makes me smile.

Lovely

As is typical for me, many of the things I do to distract myself, keep my mind off of my troubles, falls into the “lovely” category. Words I found that are synonymous with lovely are delightful, delicious, pretty, sweet, adorable, scrumptious, pleasant, pleasing. I love all of those words! They all have a delightful ring to them don’t they? And they have all filled my days with one pleasant sweet or delightful thing or another. Let’s start with delicious. Of course! Fortunately, I have not lost my desire to cook and bake! I haven’t taken any photos, but I cook up a storm. It is still my favorite of all time stress reliever.

Here are some other lovely things and thoughts:

 

Each May, I host a bracelet making night for the moms in our support group. It’s a fun night that everyone has really come to enjoy, most especially me! This year, I bought an assortment of sea glass beads and pearls for the bracelet, and wrote a little reflection about sea glass and how it begins as broken shards of glass that are tumbled and tossed about in the ocean and dashed against rocks to eventually become things of beauty. The evening was so enjoyable with lots of laughter amongst the tears, and I truly loved seeing the bracelets everyone created. I made my own jewelry, and I love it and wear it as often as I can. It reminds me that the difficult times in life are part of the beauty of life, even if I hate those times. Wearing it reminds me to think of other times in my life that were so challenging and hard and how those times shaped me into the person I am today.

I wrote before about how I taught myself how to crochet this past winter. I have enjoyed it so very much, and some days, sitting down with a basket of yarn and a crochet hook is the best part of my day. One of the gals on our Angel Ball committee loved my worry blanket so much that she is paying me to make her one. The interesting thing is that she crochets and knits like a wizard and could certainly make one because it has to be the easiest thing in the world to make, but she said she will treasure it more knowing that I made it for her. The only instructions she gave were to make it with less yellow than mine and more pink. I love how it is turning out.

The blue striped afghan is something I am so completely enjoying working on right now. I chose each of the colors based on some of my favorite beach photos: One from York Beach in Maine, one from Pensacola Beach in Florida, and one from Lake Michigan. I am in love with how it is turning out, and I love the memories it brings to mind as I am working on it.

 

Speaking of the beach…

I decorated my dining room table in a beachy theme. I love it, and it has inspired me to stop using my dining room as a dumping ground for all things I’m too lazy to put away or find a home for. I just pulled together some of my blue glassware and used some sand, shells and sea glass left over from my bracelet making night.

Working in the yard and bringing it out of the winter doldrums into its summery life.

 

 

Back in May, my boss, who knows I enjoy crafty endeavors, asked me if I would make a set of cards for special thing she wanted to do at our yearly all day staff meeting. She gave me instructions to make a set of cards with each person’s name on it, blank on the back. She wanted 9 cards with each person’s name along with a little decorated envelope to put them in. Each person was given a set of 9 cards, one with each person’s name on it. Then, we had to write something to that person on their card, then give them to each other. Each person ended up with 9 cards containing things written about them. It was such a lovely thing to read what each of my coworkers wrote on my cards. I’m sure it didn’t come as a shock to anyone that I ended up in tears. Not only did I have an absolute BLAST making the cards, my coworkers loved them.

Of course, no post from me would be complete without a beautiful sunrise photo now would it?

 

Admirable:  execellent, first rate, praiseworthy, valuable, wonderful

I will end this with a photo of something that could fit into each of these categories I have written about tonight.

 

I just love this photo and stare at it every day.  I’ve run out of steam and words for now. I think this photo says it all, though, with no other words needed. (Or, that’s a copout because I just can’t think of any!)

Until next time…I will embed these words in my brain and think on them as I continue to always try to dance in the rain.