Goodbye Summer...

So remember that list of summertime tasks I told you about? Well here's the update and also why I haven't been around the entire month of August:

not our actual blueprint

We are renovating our house! 

It all happened kinda fast.  We had a few quotes, and a discouraging report after another until we finally got someone in to help us out.

Thus we packed up and moved out. That was over three weeks ago.

So now here we are. We travel here and there, from one friend's home, to another. To a parent's place and back.  The month of August had us live like vagabonds but we pray daily to be back in our own home again.

But in the middle of our comparably 'homeless' situation, we have been reminded of the blessings in our life. Like friends and family that would take us in (and I mean, all four of us crazies) and provide in oh the so many, many ways - big and small.  It's been so touching.

We are so grateful.

Also, like with any renovation story I have heard (or witnessed) there are those expectations, timelines, and promises… all not happening as planned.  On top of all that, it really is quite a task to lug your home in your car from one place to another along with two toddlers who don't quite understand why we are not in our own house.  But even through all the crazy that is happening, it is hard to stay upset about timelines and unkept promises when we experience peace in the middle of it all.  Can't help but be reminded of an extraordinary God who made a promise to be with us and he has yet to break it.

Good looking out Big Guy!

We are truly grateful.  As far as the work being done: we learn to put our foot down when we need to and thank God for the provision in the meantime. Hopefully I can post an update about our return sooner than later!

had to just post a pic of my tj. he really is cute, even though he truly is a troublemaker.

Sparta! The debriefing.

WE. ARE. SPARTA!

The scorching heat greeted us as we stepped out of the car at the Blue Mountain Ski Resort in Palmerton, Pennsylvania to stretch our legs and rub our necks.  The blazing sun took but a moment to hide and we embraced the opportunity to glance up at the goliath looming overhead. We gazed at it in awe before our mouths slowly dropped in disbelief. The face of the mountain looked at us with a sneaky grin and I could almost see it snarl and laugh mercilessly as each of us took a step forward, towards our impending doom.  We came to the realization that the minuscule beings crawling at the top were actually members of our own human race.  They were participating in the very same run we were about to embark on.

THE FIRST MILE.

…"the Pennsylvania [Spartan] Sprint has long been regarded and argued as being the hardest Sprint on the circuit, something all too evident as many racers new to the Spartan Race series were to discover…"

Gulp. Wasn't that the truth.  For me,  the hardest part was the very first mile.  The clouds covered most of the sky while we prepped for the race, but the sun thought it best to peek its face right when we began.  I started to get dizzy as we started up the incline {even though I drank more water than usual and even downed a bottle of gatorade prior to our start time}. Honestly though, I think I was just not ready for that uphill battle; crawling up the rocky surface. Trying to race straight up a mountain - a ski mountain for that matter - and then through steep forest terrain was not a easy feat. There weren't many paved roads on this course. The direct heat added to our dehydration and to my weakening body.

After that initial climb, and consequently inhaling a jug at the water aid station, I was able to find a rhythm. I was determined to keep it. It was hard. There was a lot more mountain to climb {and I'm talking at a 45 degree angle} and then some more WITH a 35+ pound sandbag.  Oh yah, that's right, scaling a cliff with added weight. Thanks for that. Oh and wait, "some more" just doesn't quite capture the length of that incline. I remember looking up and gasping, "um guys, I don't see an end to this thing... how far are we supposed to go up?!! Ohgod, we are going to die … no one is going to find us." 

I felt like we were being forced to trek on, if we wanted to live, with no end in sight.

Literally.

THERE IS BEAUTY.

But there were a few sweet spots found smack dab in the middle of this suffering too.  To take those we-are-gonna-die-right-here-right-now-and-no-one-will-ever-find-us moments, and then turn them around to see the God-created beauty at our fingertips, well it was amazing. I remember throwing my sandbag down halfway up that mountain and muttering "I'm just ...going to ...sit …now."

I did. I turned around and saw all these other spartan racers clawing their way uphill and I cheered them on. I told them they were beasts. I was proud of them. I was proud of us. I was proud of me. This piece of the race was probably the hardest part for me, but it was also where I was able to just sit for about 80 seconds. I just absorbed the breathtaking picture of the sky, the rolling hills and the trees below and thought this is grand-spanking-gorgeous.

 .  .  .

How does that happen? Even in the midst of difficulty, of pain and brokenness, are we wired to still experience beauty, a sweetness of sorts; goodness? Even if it's but for a moment?

 .  .  .

Well, the rest of the climb was still brutal. I remember finally reaching the top {it was a miracle!} and wondering if labor was as difficult as scaling that massive rock.

In that moment, I honestly couldn't remember.

WE FINISHED THE RACE.

After a few more hazardous, upward challenges, we started the trek downhill. It was less tenuous but still extremely steep. I slid a few times. Almost twisted a leg. I got through most of the obstacles, which included {but were not limited to} crawling under barbed wire, swimming in a mud-filled lake, and scaling several walls.  Also, I absolutely owe the Spartan Race kings more burpees than I would like to admit.

It's hard to describe the powerful feeling that came over me when I threw my legs over the final 10 foot wall and fell to the earth below. I could see the finish line ahead. It was glorious. I felt warm all over {or perhaps that was from the pounding sun and the mud baking into my skin}.  The five of us just ran into each other's arms and held on for a good long few moments before we tackled our final obstacle together. We broke out into a full sprint for the last few feet and leapt over the burning rocks. After 4 point some miles of crazie {it felt like 15!} and three hours of moving non-stop; after all of that, it was such a savoring feeling to finish. To conquer.

We were a team and we had completed this mission together, through the sweat and tears and bruises. It was awesome.

MY REASON FOR RACING.

When I first signed up, I had a whole bucket full list of reasons for doing so.  A lot of people asked me why I would do something so ridiculous, so extreme.  Was I trying to prove something? Perhaps. I mean, not so much for fame and glory.  Not in the way I would have once done so.

I had mentioned in a previous post about having re-visited some parts of my past and it has been a long and painful journey.  I have wanted to quit at times, but like this race, I am part of a team, and we inspire each other to move forward, to dig deep, to push on.

Getting to the end of such a brutal race was hugely empowering for me. To see how I could set my mind to something, how I could push past the pain when it hurt the most, how I could dig deeper when I didn't have any energy left, and how I could pray when I had no breath. I could continue.  I was encouraged to see that through the dirt and the pain, there is hope. There is freedom.  It gives me assurance for the here and now, that I will one day stand up and throw my hands in the air and look back at all the mountains, the beatings, the obstacles - the crap - that I had to go through, and shout a victorious roar. I will see the finish line. I will see an end.

It will be epic.

Freedom is real. We can dream big. There is an end even when we can't see it. There is hope to cross the finish line.

I feel stronger today than I did the day before.  I certainly don't owe it all to the spartan race, but I am definitely glad I ran it and that I gave it all I got.

Starring Role of a Small Life

What explanation is there except that she felt obligated to hide behind the plastic smile and not mess up the Sandra Dee costume she so proudly wore.  In doing so, all of her failures were kept secret.

It wasn't anyone's business anyway.

Eventually those secrets and compromises became so comfortable to be around, she wore them like her favorite pair of blue jeans. If she drank too much, flirted or messed around, she was discreet and no one was the wiser.

She ignored the voice that constantly nudged her to stop. She wrestled with it a bit, and perhaps a bit too aggressively. She was enslaved to the thrill.  However, the countdown to confession was just beginning. The hushed lifestyle was starting to get too heavy, too messy, and far too big to hide.  She tried to push it back, but the deceit just bulged through somewhere else. It was only a matter of time before the swell would break.

Then the inevitable happened. The bubble burst and the sins, the scandal, the comfortable compromises that were protected and held onto so tightly for so long finally spilled out.  All those secrets that were stashed away in the darkest corners of her deepest closets were suddenly laid bare, item by item, on the largest billboards of the busiest highways for the entire world to see.

What could she say?  Everyone saw her plainly. Everyone could see she wasn't who they thought she was. Her family, her friends...

...her husband.

She wasn't who she had claimed to be.

. . .

Once upon a time there was a girl who was graceful and charming, playful and unique.  She was someone everyone wanted to be or wanted to be with.  Her reputation flourished and her pride grew with it, where sex and alcohol and glory were much more alluring, where she was convinced she was something she wasn't, where in her heart she felt empty and alone.

Yes, she was a star. Except, she played the leading role of an incredibly, insignificant and small life.

...written for this week's writing prompt : Swell and Unique at studio 30+

Rain Therapy

Ahh…the sound of rain. Right now, the kids are asleep, the house is quiet, the sun has finally gone down for the night, and a sweet breeze is kissing my face.  The window is propped up and there are those oh so beautiful sounds streaming in: the whispering wind, the pitter patter of water droplets, the approaching cars sloshing through our road.

Sloshing. What a strange word.
I think I like saying it more than anything else. Sloshing.
Sloshhh.ing.


Okay it's out of my system. Just ignore all of that.

Sooo, yes I know I've mentioned before how much I adore the rain. Thunderstorms more specifically.  I find it to be almost therapeutic. Some of you know what I am talking about.

It can be a beautiful experience.

I know, I know, the rain can be a pain at times. It's not always fun to get through (J and I should know. We have lost more cars in the 'watch-for-flooding-spots' - where apparently we weren't, I guess, watching), it can be a bit inconvenient (especially if you just had your hair straightened. i'm serious.), uncomfortable (you try walking through wet grass in high heels) and chaotic at times (let's face it, no one seems to know how to drive in the rain).

But it offers something new. From bleak skies to beauty all around.
A clean slate. A fresh start.

An opportunity to grow.

Something about it reminds me that restoration doesn't just come without some pain or effort, even hurt. It can be miserable and uncomfortable and inconvenient and chaotic….but when we get through to the other side, sometimes we can look back and knowingly smile at the process. It's when we are in the midst of it, that it's hard.

It IS hard. It's okay to feel that.
To say that.

Not everything is easy peasy.

But then I like to be reminded of what redemption looks like and how beautiful it is when we realize where we are going and how the journey is a big part of us getting there.

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Anthem

I'm thinking this is my anthem for the new year.

I've been feeling convicted about moving forward. There's so much to be done here and I'm excited to be part of it.

I don't want to waste a moment.

Craving Community.

Desires. I'm not talking about love, or lust for that matter. I'm talking about the things our heart strings are pulled towards. Why I was designed in such a specific way. Why my heart sings and dances at the notion of certain things and settles at the idea of others. Why these loves of mine can relate with few and not so with others. Why those same people may understand yet misunderstand me.

Why we are all so different.

. But not completely .

I am developing a deeper appreciation for who I am and how our relationships are designed to be brilliantly and intricately complex. { I know, I'm having one of those weird, brain barf experiences where few may connect and most will 'x' out thinking she really is crazie. }

But seriously. Just hear me out. I desire connection and J sometimes teases me on how this reveals itself. I undoubtedly find that almost every person I meet 'reminds me of' someone else I know. "She's just like ___" or "Don't you think He reminds you a little of ___"?

Now, they are probably nothing alike, and perhaps its just that they both like the same color. Honestly, I think it is just a terrible way for me to connect, or rather, relate with others. Well I'm friends with this person and this new person kind of reminds me of her, so hey, we can be friends too. I mean, obviously, I don't really think it's that simple. I’m not exactly sure why I do that. It just something I do.

But I do know that we were wired to desire relationships. Connection. Community.

We want to engage with people who will understand us. People who will accept the 'who' that we are. People who will take the time needed. People who are not afraid to be honest with us. People who will celebrate….

...Me.

It's a funny thing; my closest friends are not always the most similar to me. I mean, we may have common interests, happenings, lives in this lot... but in the details, we often stray from here to there.  In fact, my closest confident, lover - friend - above all, is most unlike me in so many of the specifics. And yet we are so in sync with regards to the grander things in life.  So, perhaps that’s it. Our mission is the same, but the way we get there…well it could look very different.  This is the man to whom I am quite capable of talking on and on about all the various facets of a given situation, and his very rendition of the same exact scenario would often be summed up into one brief sentence. 

Here's the even funnier thing: he still finds my rants interesting. For whatever reason, he still takes the time out to listen, even though I continue to belabor on and on about the particulars.

Somehow, we are so the same and yet so entirely different.  It's wonderful, really. We have learned to celebrate those differences in each other and embrace the similarities as we move forward in this life together.  

Even though he can sometimes be simple vanilla and I can be as eclectic as rocky road can be...

we still connect.

All Things New

Mmm. My coffee seems especially refreshing this morning. I think it's because I was able to wake up before my inquisitive and eager 2 year old with his regular "is it good-morning time yet?" {there are some things you just don’t want to correct just yet} and enjoy that moment between dawn and the day.  

With that, here begins the first post for 2013. Since I have been MIA for a bit, I feel it only appropriate to begin with a recap as the last few months have been quite eventful.

AUGUST 

We renewed our vows for our tenth anniversary. It was brilliant. We enjoyed the opportunity to look back and see all that God has done to redeem our marriage and how it really displays an otherworldly Goodness that one must seek after. It was a sweet evening with friends and family. Only downside: we never got to take our annual vacation last year since it's usually around our anniversary. We are thinking about maybe making up for that in the next month or so.

Also my dear brother got married to my darling new SIL :)

SEPTEMBER

This month filled up with weddings while J became increasingly inundated at the office. It was one of those months that just went by so quickly, so much so, it seems we barely caught any of it. Let's just say that I was thrilled when it was over. It is a hard thing to dance between work and church and family and this and that and more ...

OCTOBER

J's work carried into this month while we were also trying to prepare for Tj's first birthday! Which, since it's Nov 1, we played it up as a halloween party for the kids! Thank God for that because the Northeast didn't get to go candy picking on halloween this year...

NOVEMBER

Sandy. What a beautiful disaster.  Well not really beautiful, except that we were able experience something outside of our comfort zone and forge relationships beyond what they may have been. That's what happens when you and three other families/friends are forced to live as refugees at any available location that offered heat and electricity. Try repositioning between houses for half a month. It was crazie, but we were together. It was beautiful. Families losing their homes and belongings - not so much. There are still communities struggling to get back on their feet on the southern shore of the island.  Thank God where we were, it was only a loss of power for a few weeks.

But it was my birthday month too. I know, I a thirty-some year old woman, and yet still a bit of a Prima Donna when it comes to my birthday. Alas, our plans to celebrate have been postponed to my birthday in 2013. Ha! Ohwell. It’s just another opportunity for the good Lord to acquiesce this wannabe Diva...

DECEMBER

Family. Friends. More Family. We love it. The last two weeks have been filled with joy, conversation and good times. It truly is fun, but it is also tremendously exhausting. By New Year’s Eve, I think J and I barely appeared to exist while we watched the ball drop from our humble living room.  However, it was still a relaxing night, and I truly appreciated the opportunity for us to gather with good friends to welcome the new year.

JANUARY 1 

From NYE into 1/1, we had our very dear friends with us: Beth and her fiancé Eric. Since they live in Maryland, we wisely spent the morning relaxing, catching up, and just lingering over breakfast in sweet conversation.  It was so nice.  After they left, J and I went on a wild rampage to take down all things Christmas. Usually, I'm hesitant to tackle this often monumental, and sometimes depressing task, but this year we were ready to start the new year fresh.

So here we are…starting all things new. I would like to write again. I might change my look/wardrobe for 2013.  J’s too. I will be running much more this year.  It would be nice to redo a room in our home.  I shall be investing in people yet again. I may have a new site or look or blog.  

I like new things. So be prepared.  Change is a-coming…

Wordfilled Wednesdays

I am doing the best I can.

I feel that I have lots of days when I can do this. Then a corresponding amount of days when I feel I cannot.  The roller coaster of emotions messes with my psyche.  I simply cannot keep up. At the end of the day I feel that I am constantly left wondering "did I do enough?" I feel separated from reality and often encounter an out-of-body experience; watching myself go through the motions.

Looking within from time to time is always a valuable assessment, but to live in a constant state of uncertainty and timidity is a poor place to reside. At least for me, it is.

I don't like living in that.

But, here I am.

. . .

Days like these, I have to remind myself of many, many things.

One of which is that even though I may not feel like it, I am doing what I can, the best way that I know how and I'm praying for One to make up the rest.

Please Lord, make up the rest.

wordfilled wednesday

Busy busy bee

It's been another crazie week ~ we came back from a nice, weekend retreat and stepped into a frenzy full few days (that's alliteration, baby).  I mean, the weekend was really some needed time away to pray and relax and think and talk and learn; we went with the leadership team from our church and really just enjoyed the time together. Of course, when one should return from such a weekend, one would step into a very intense, non-retreat type life. 

It's okay though, because I'm learning along the way too.

We have my sister-in-law-to-be's shower this weekend {don't worry, it's not a surprise} and its been a juggling act between setting up and managing the necessary action steps before Saturday while being a mom of two boys...two little guys.

my brother and his lady

Honestly, I'm in a much better place than I was, well let's say this time, yesterday. But that's because I've been able to somehow complete most of the tasks required of me...and I say most, because there will always be plenty that will not get done until the last minute. I've learned to accept that at this point in my life; it levels expectations and I'm not always so disappointed {for someone who likes to plan, last minute isn't ideal}. But it's okay. I'm okay with what I can and cannot do. Saturday there will be a party and it will be spectacular and life will go on from there.  Jus has provided lots of therapy to help me manage my perfectionist tendencies, because time doesn't really allow me to attain exactness. 

...and that's ok.

Rain...Rain...don't go away

Like most mornings, the whimpering cries from Cj's room find their way into ours and slowly but surely, disrupt my morning slumber.  An unexpected coolness invades the air, and I am a little more eager to start the day.  I slip out of the bed quietly so as to not wake J, and take a quick glance out of the window on my way over to get my little prince.  The gray skies and the rain-soaked drive are unexpected, but relieving in a certain kind of way.  I ecstatically retrieve Cj from his room and head down the stairs to start my morning coffee. I can't wait for us to sit by the window together and listen to the robust hammering of the rain & watch for the flickering lightning as its thunder rumbles and roars around us. 

:: sigh ::

I am powerfully drawn to the summer rain.  I love a good thunderstorm. It's just relaxing and engaging; it feels so refreshing, so invigorating and at the same time, it can be so awe-inspiring and mysterious.  The soothing downpour contrasts with the heat and humidity that our area has been subject to recently and right now, the whole house feels cool and clean it its wet embrace.

The low soothing growl, often transforming into a crackling clap or thunderous boom, plays with my emotions. At any moment, I could close my eyes and whole-heartedly welcome the sub-bass of a delicate rolling thunder rumbling through the clouds.  The lower bass can get so deep and it adds such great depth; it's a natural, three dimensional audio experience.  It adds a comfortable charm that makes me want to cuddle on the couch with my coffee in hand, a good book {or macbook} on my lap and just disappear.

So yes, the whole thing fascinates me...and not just me, apparently.  Right now, as it pours outside, Cj and Tj are busy watching and playing by the windows so that they won't miss a beat. I like that I can most certainly relate.  We all seem drawn to it in the same exact inexplicable {though I tried my very best to explain above} way.

It is an auditory exhibit that reminds me of how small I am, yet still very much part of a powerful, amazing, and awesome creation.

Joy comes with the morning

The weather channel just got me all thrilled for the sweet summer sun-soaked days that have decided to invade our area over the next week.  Not only for the bronze color that I have impatiently waited all three quarters of a year for, but also for the sun's effects on my health. I know, the sun has a pretty bad rap sheet, and I'm not trying to disregard it's damaging effects on our skin; I'm just saying that at the same time it truly does a lot for my state of mind.

In all honesty, waking up to the sun flooding through my window just gets me amped for the day. The excitement just starts to tug at the corners of my mouth and I can't help but smile and move through the day with a little more bounce in my step.

I know I have been struggling over the last few weeks with the chaos vs. order battle.  Today I have a peace for what the week holds. It will be crazie, I am sure, but I am eager for this week and like to view that the sun as God's little reminder of the joys that I have so abundantly received {and I have received many}.

So this week, I'm taking each glimpse of the sun and offering it back as a salute towards his grace.

I'm sorry, what was I supposed to do?

Once upon a time, I had a brain. It operated just fine.

I will toot my own horn and say that my memory was impeccable, my creative could be pretty dazzling and my organizing skills were rather impressive. I mean, I truly believe that there was an entire department within my brain dedicated to arrange and put my life in order…so much so that when dates or items were thrown at me, the speed at which my mind was able to process and sort and file away {or bring up, for that matter} was remarkable.

Then I had my second son and my brain hasn’t been the same ever since. The ball has been dropped, on multiple occasions, and now I have to have a meeting with my head-organizing-department-manager about why s/he hasn’t been able to keep it all together.

:: sigh ::

I’m at a loss to figure it all out. I just can’t keep up. Things are all over the place, and the way I used to depend on my mind, I can do so no longer. It’s shameful. Not only because I cannot trust myself, but when I give my “Yes” or “No” to someone, I cannot do so with the confidence I once had. I may completely and absolutely forget, and that is just really new to me. In the past, I may have neglected things here or there, but for the last several months, it has not been that. It’s the loss of memory.

It’s hard to explain so that one could really empathize. Trust me, I have tried. All I can say is that to once have been able to do something well and now not at all, well, it’s almost near debilitating. For me, anyway.  and just saying that seems so sad. I thought I would have been able to get it together, but just when I seem to finally get a grasp, it slips away. Then I’m frustrated, and that leads to ingratitude and that leads to guilt because I have so much to be grateful for. I find it interesting that even though I know that I have all that I can ever want or need, I still fuss and find it incredibly difficult to move past these things that bother me, these funny little things that mess with my identity.

Jus always reminds me that my identity isn’t wrapped up in these things. It’s nice to be reminded. But it doesn’t always stick. I still struggle with it.

I need to get a handle on all the craziness, and coffee just isn’t cutting it this time.

"Live what you Love"

I had seen this title at Barnes & Noble a while ago as I strolled past their self-help section. The title had jumped out at me. I couldn’t help but do the classic double-take as I tried to fly past so as to secure my favorite comfy couch. So, I had stopped and flipped through the pages. It was like a memoir (or a blog in hardback). The book seemed to be a bunch of blubs about the author's experiences each day; really sbout just living life: enjoying the beach, reading, laying around & doing nothing, exploring the earth & doing everything, hiking, sleeping, etc. A simple life engaged in what s/he loved.

I found it interesting and so as I found my way towards the couch with my Starbucks chai latte in hand, two slightly opposing thoughts immediately came to mind . One, “live what you love.” What a great title. If you love something, then why not pour your existence into it? I love the very notion and admittedly, I believe my daily morning ritual involves a curiousity as to how my day can embrace the breath I have been given.

However the second was, “Really? But then what? What does living what you love all add up to in the end?” Enjoy the material world, parade within the abstract, delight in the intangible beauty all around, pour out your being, feel spent, and then die. You get a nice quote on your tombstone. Perhaps you leave a legacy behind. But what is it all for? For yet another round of a pointless, fruitless living-what-you-love kind of life?

But were we not created to enjoy all these things? Are we not human?

I have been in the process of rediscovering a life that is spent, yet so not wasted.  Loving a life worth living and living a life worth loving. Craving beauty. Appreciating the intellectual. Life has a point and there will be an exclaimation point at the end. Because in this memoir, there will be a life where at the heart of existence lays a desire for intimacy with the One who gave Love it’s name.

…with a challenge to love. A brilliant, fully-engaged, challenge to live.

Wordfilled Wednesday

Undone

This week has been hard. There have been an overwhelming amount of tasks on my plate and no time to tackle any of them. Besides that, I am without a desk ~ aka workstation ~ aka office ~ to even get my thoughts in order. I feel like I am all over the place and try as hard as I might, I just cannot get my head to wrap around them. At least not in a way that will enable me to function properly. I used to hear other people talk about this, but I just didn't get it. It used to seem like something you just had to try harder with or adapt to and yet, NOW its my turn, and I'm all kinds of lost. I need to get back on track. I need to figure something out soon or the little thread that has begun to unravel will have me come undone.

But see, I'm used to having a million things on my plate. I'm used to multitasking to the nth degree. It's just that I usually have a space of my own midst the chaos and craziness. That is where there is calm. There is quiet. There is order.

It's my place to go officially bonkers {to the masses} and keep organized in a world of disorder and disarray.

A place where using my sherry-branded filing system, or a post-it, or the organized set of lists from action lists to pending to complete or using the calendar in front of me is available. Now I'm writing things down on random notepads and scraps of paper and they get stuck somewhere deep inside my purse where there is no rhyme or reason, and before long that priority job that I was supposed to handle last week has resurfaced from the blackness and I can't believe I forgot all about it but it is all because this is what a simple, limited legal pad and it's scraps of paper associates can offer me.

Either I get a work station fast, or I need to have a serious day of revamping my system of order and adapt to a new way of life.

Well, except that was what I thought was doing. But apparently it's just not working.

Its not always going to be a good day.

yah, and...

Just read my post from yesterday, and I’m thinking, yah. That’s true. I’m thrilled.

…and kinda nervous.

The Last Monday

::Sigh::

It’s the last Monday of the last three days at the Bank. I’m certain this subject will be the reigning topic of discussion for this week since it’s pretty much all I have been thinking about. Don’t get me wrong, I’m actually not sad. Well, let me rephrase that. I AM sad about leaving the wonderful friends I have made, but I am excited to see what starts next.  So it’s not that I’m thinking about it in a depressed~melancholy kind of way. It’s just a huge change that is happening and no matter how I feel about it, it’s overwhelming. I’m going to be a stay at home mom. I never thought of myself as a stay at home anything before. I’m more of a get-out-of-the-house, adventurous, people-person kind of gal {with my occasional i-need-my-time-away-from-everyone-and-at-home-sometimes}. But today, as I dropped off my boys, all I was thinking was “I wish I could stay at home with you guys”. It really has been a change of perspective for me. I will continue to keep my flair for the creative, of course {so stay tuned for more on that} but in the meantime, mommy-dom will be what consumes my days, and I’m rather thrilled.  

Personal Day

On those random mornings that I was able to grab a Starbucks skinny mocha before I had to rush into the office, I would enviously watch those few that had the luxury of sitting in one of those plush nooks with a small table while browsing through their laptops or with a newspaper in one hand and a steaming hot cup in the other. I always wondered what that would be like if it were MY morning. Well, with two weeks left to go in my ending position, I decided to use up one of my remaining personal days and actually have one. So here I am, coming to the end of a lovely morning, enjoying this starbucks-window-view I used to only experience back in my more free-spirited days.

This morning, I had a proverbial epiphany (well, it's really nothing new) that I am my own worst enemy.  One of the obstacles to actually enjoying a personal day is that I have way-too-so many things I need want to do. So, either I sit in my imagination-station looking at all those things scattered before me while never touching a single one of them, resulting in a more frustrating end to my day OR rather, I try to tackle every single one (three or four at the same time) and then feel that my personal day off was much more overwhelming than a regularly occupied one.

SOo, this morning I had a stern talking to myself in the mirror, and decided to skip the plans and lists, avoid trying to figure out which priority was really the priority of priorities and just go. So I did.  I dropped the kids off at daycare, and parked in the parking lot of the first Starbucks I saw.

And here we are. Noontime and refreshed. (I'll admit I sorta tried to do eight things at once while on my laptop - read this, blog that, update church things and stuff, hit up pinterest while editing my own site at sherrdesign.com...etc. okay, okay, so no one said I was perfect).

As I wrap up my morning, I am purposefully NOT stressing about the rest of my day. I'll leave the lists of things to do for a day that I'll actually be doing all of them anyway.  I think I'll pick up for lunch instead of worrying about what to make before I head home and then at least tackle cleaning/ organizing the house. Yes, I know I just said I wasn’t going to stress and then in the same sentence said I was going to clean. BUT, I actually find the cleaning therapeutic when I don't have to worry about kids underfoot. Anyway, tonight we are off to Philly (my hometown!) so for me it’s nice to come back to a pretty tidy house after a long weekend.  So I'll try to do what I can, while packing a few items for myself and the boys before I have to pick them up. Sounds like a plan...err...I mean, not-a-plan (no plans!!) to me!

PS: is this what spontaneity looks like for me these days?! Starbucks and then cleaning? ::Sigh:: That's okay.  Next week I need to use my last personal day so I'll save that for the skydiving, or better yet, some dancing in the rain...

wanna join me?