things I learned in march

So here we are, on the cusp of April. It seems that I learned a few things this past month.

1. Days of rest are vital.

Um, so it's been a while (months in fact) since Michael has taken a full day off of work. But we remedied that on a gloriously fun day in March. We had a leisurely morning, Michael went to a coffee shop on his own for a couple hours, we went to the park to play and eat lunch, I took off for coffee, then Michael and Asher went to see the Lego Movie. We had so much fun resting and playing.

picnicking at the park

2. It helps no one to be angry with my child(ren). I never actually thought I'd be a person whose blood pressure could so quickly spike in reaction to a whiny 3-year old. But I don't like that reaction in me, and I certainly don't like the response to my anger that I see in my son. So, yeah, working on that.

that smile!!!

3. Spring might be my new favorite season. Everything is new. The old hardness melts away and it reminds me that I am a new creation.

green grass last year

4. Sugar might be my enemy. But I love it. This presents a problem. So, I will be embarking on a sugar detox beginning on April 6. A group of friends is starting a detox on the 1st, but I'm going out of town with some family and we'll be having lots of yummy food. This happens on the 4th and 5th, so I will be indulging in that, then abruptly shun all things sugar. I can't imagine my body is going to have any problem with me doing that. I do believe that the biggest sacrifice will be my beloved coffee creamer. Oh, how I will miss you.

Vanilla Nutty goodness

5. I actually can be on time for things. It's true! This happened 7-8 times in March, and I had children with me for some of these occasions! (Before you get all judge-y on me, be reminded that I am a stay at home mom, with few commitments outside of the home. So 7-8 instances of timeliness constitutes probably 80% of all applicable situations.)

For example, my mom was going to visit my grandma, so the kids and I tagged along for the quick trip to surprise her. I had us all fed, packed, and ready when my mom arrived at 10:15 (am!) to pick us up.

a 4 generation selfie

March really was a great month.

what this life [today] could be.

A lot of days I just try to survive. More than I would care to admit. There's a distinct monotony to our days that I have settled for.

Wake

Prepare and serve breakfast

Clean up breakfast

Naptime for baby

Playtime with preschooler

Prepare and serve lunch

Clean up lunch

Naptime

Dishes/clean

Kids up = Crazy time

Prepare and serve dinner

Clean up dinner

Playtime

Bedtime routine for kids

Crash on couch for an hour

Sleep

Here's the thing. I don't think the problem is that I've accepted this as my life. Because, let's face it, this is my life right now, for the most part. (And it's a good life.)

The problem is that I see it as monotony. Wearisome and tedious. I have been blind to the potential that each day brings.

Only lately has the curtain been lifting, little by little. I was gripping that curtain to the floor, wallowing in my disheartenment, living vicariously through my favorite blogs and instagrammers and even tv characters (a bit pathetic?).

As I begin to really see, I'm honestly surprised at the possibilities. At the natural effects of living presently and deliberately.

I feel like I'm waking up. That I "just showed up for my own life." (thanks Sara.)

a new season. literally.

Thank you, Lord, we made it to spring!

The weather has been fantastic lately, and we're taking advantage to get some spring cleaning done.

Fall has long been a favorite season of mine. But spring has been working on me the last few years. The promises it brings. The hope.

I love what Nichole says in her song "Every Season":

And everything that's new has bravely surfaced
Teaching us to breathe
And what was frozen through is newly purposed
Turning all things green
So it is with you and how you make me new
With every season's change
And so it will be as you are recreating me
Summer, autumn, winter, spring

scattered

Have you heard of the One Word thing? Where people choose a word to focus on and commit to throughout the year? I've never thought through it enough to come up with a word, and, honestly, I think it's kind of weird to use just a word. I mean, I have 9 or so main goals for this year...how am I supposed to choose a word and have that be applicable to all areas of my life? So, I'm not doing it. But if I were, I just decided my word would be FOCUS.

I am so all over the place. If you cut my brain in half, you would see yellow sticky notes on top of yellow sticky notes full of lists and to-dos. For about 10 years I've described my brain as a bunch of pick up sticks (remember that game?) that were held up in a neatly standing bundle, then just dropped. Sticks going every which way on top of one another, and to pull one out, you risk dismantling the whole pile.

I think part of my problem with focusing is that I have convinced myself that I am a pro multitasker. I'm coming to realize that multitasking does just not work. Instead of seeing a project/task/activity through from start to finish, I start a few things and finish none. And then the guilt...

Another issue is that I have so many interests. I want to do crafts with my kids and make fun meals and decorate the house and sew and start a business and read books. Why can't I just create more time?!

Ann told me that "God gives us everything we need for space - but we will have to make space. God gives us all the ingredients for time - but we will have to make time. God gives us everything we need to live - but we will have to make a life."

That's what this season in my life is, I've decided. I'm learning how to make space and time and a life. Attempting to weed out the time wasters and and energy suckers that don't make a difference. This is not an easy process. For crying out loud, I'm currently alternating between writing this post and scouring a new blog I just found. Geesh. But slow and steady wins the race, yes?

So I'll just be over here, making my field and spending my time.

the lost year.

I was 18 years old, attending Drake University in Des Moines for my freshman year of college. I had a couple of weird roommates, but made some great friends. I have some vivid memories of my dad moving me into my dorm room and getting delicious milkshakes at the Drake Diner and amazing pizzas from the restaurant on campus. Fraternity house parties where everyone ended up in the makeshift pool and dance parties in a neighbors dorm room. I remember almost daily after class I'd pick up a deli sandwich and Soft Batch chocolate chip cookies on the way to my dorm to watch General Hospital.

But I have no one to corroborate those memories. I didn't keep in touch with anyone from that year after I transferred to another college. I only remember a couple first names of people, along with a vague recollection of what they looked like.

This is what I refer to as the lost year.

It's almost not real. I could almost be convinced that it didn't happen.

It is sad to me now. That first year of college, a pivotal time in my life, and there is no one to look back on it with me. I have no witness to my life at that time.

Now, thankfully, I have (and for the last ten years have had) a built in witness to my life in my husband. And a handful of friends who have known me throughout and shared in my experiences since college. And my family.

I don't want any more lost years. I want to be seen and known and for my years to be real. It's a deep longing. And I want to bear witness to those closest to me. Like this. Especially the end.

haven's nursery 1.0

I spent a lot of time on Haven's nursery while we lived in Pennsylvania. And she lived in it for a whopping four months. But the preparation was so worth it...I LOVED it.

It's where we brought our sweet baby home. Where she learned to sleep through the night (at 1 month!). Where I rocked and rocked and rocked her. And where we played and read on the soft rug.

Her crib fit perfectly in this nook in her room. I made some paintings on large canvases, as well as a cloud and teardrop mobile to hang from the ceiling. And I made the crib sheet to be the perfect pinky-peach color.

A little frame collage above the changing table. That's Haven's 3 month picture. And the framed words on the lower left says "Love is spoken here." Also, I made the changing pad cover to match the crib sheet.

The rocking chair I found on Craigslist. My mom crocheted the blanket for Haven. The lamp was a hand-me-down gift from a friend that I spray painted gold and covered to match the changing pad cover.

I picked up these shelves from Hobby Lobby that I spray painted white.

My friend Ashley painted this canvas that we hung above the door.

The dresser is another hand-me-down (from the same friend!) that Michael painted white. I found the beehive looking container at Goodwill, which I painted gold, and it houses Haven's hospital tags and booties and knit hat from our midwife.

I made this fantastic chandelier out of waxed paper and a lamp shade, of all things! It was so incredibly time consuming, but it's so amazing and dramatic in person.

Oh, and here is what hung on the outside of Haven's door.

I'm so glad we were able to enjoy this sweet girly nursery for the time we lived in PA. Currently, Haven is sleeping in our room. But once we decide how we'll make a third bedroom in our house, I'll have fun designing another girly room.

there I am

A couple weeks ago on a Saturday morning, I left the house...all by myself, dressed and put together, and got myself over to Caribou Coffee. Can I just say, the East Coast doesn't know what it's missing here? It's rustic and cozy, not to mention the super yummy coffee drinks. AND it's less than 5 minutes from my house.

I walked into that coffee shop, smelled the amazing smells, didn't check to make sure I had the boy, the baby, and the diaper bag, and thought...

There I am.

It's been a while. Since I've felt the most myself. It's true, things have changed. I'm not responsible for just me anymore. I have a husband and two children whom I love dearly, and with whom I am grateful to get to spend my days with. But in the midst of those many hours of the day (and night) catering to their every need, I have lost track of where Summer is.

That's partly why I wake at 5am, even after very broken, child-tending sleep, because I need a couple hours in the quiet, all to myself, before the circus begins again and the quiet waits another 12 hours to settle.

It's HARD. I know these young years will go quickly, and I want to enjoy my children at this age, and I know I will look back and miss this time. But going through it? As a very selfish person? It's not pretty much of the time. It's constantly dying to myself and laying my desires down so I can fix the wheels on the toy car and keep her away from his blocks and remove that paper/cardboard/lint/string from her mouth (again) and prepare meal after meal after meal and NOT wish they were ages 8 and 5.

I get snippets. Last night I heard them giggling as they crawled after each other under the dining room table. She now gestures so big when asked how big she is, and it's just about the cutest thing I've ever seen in my life. He wants to watch "the shark one EVERY day! [He] could watch it all the days! It's [his] FAVORITE!!!!!" with flailing arms to match and I don't know where he possibly got all that drama.

So maybe this is me now? Without endless hours to focus on myself, but understanding sacrifice a little better than when I was 22. Learning what it means to really serve. And my heart fuller than I could have imagined.

But I'll still take those solo dates to Caribou, thankyouverymuch.