Why God gives us girlfriends

I live in a house full of boys (just in case the name on the top of the page didn't give that away). I love my people. I love that I get to be a wife to a good man and a mom to the two cutest little people I've ever seen. These people are fun. They like to do fun boy things like see who can fart the loudest, see who can have the smelliest feet, and see who can make me jump the highest by scaring me with lizards (I hate lizards).

I love these people and have fun with these people and consider these people my mission field.
But I'm still a girl (Woman? Can I say woman at 30? The word still feels weird to me). And sometimes I want to talk about my FEELINGS (I'm sorry to be a stereotype. Really). These people don't really like talking about feelings. I get that. I grew up with brothers. But try as I might, I can't make my feelings go away.

I've been wanting another baby. Like NOW. Or YESTERDAY. I know it's not the right time. Ben and I have already established that if we are to be responsible adults, we absolutely must wait before adding another tiny person to the planet. On paper, I totally get that. My ovaries don't really care what's on paper. Not one iota.

Yesterday, I was really feeling it. I keep praying I won't want another. And won't you know, the more I pray, the stronger the pull on my heart gets. It's very annoying, actually. The cool thing about yesterday, is even though I was bummed, in a big old funk, my girlfriends just kind of knew it and started texting me. Emily, all the way from LA, was going on about how wanting a third baby doesn't make me some kind of freak show, that I'm normal, that I am female and it's totally okay. Gosh I wanted to hug her through my outdated Iphone. She was such a blessing to me when I was expecting to wallow and she was just great at lifting my spirits.

Then my other good friend, Andrea, did the same thing. Emily and Andrea don't even know each other, but it was almost like they planned it. Andrea went on to encourage me and tell me that this is not the end of the story, that it's totally okay to be in a funk some days and I am indeed normal.

I am so thankful God gave me girlfriends to do life with. There are so many, and each of them seems to be there for me at exactly the right time. I don't even ask, they just know. And I know it's a God thing. The family I came from is broken, and extremely tangled, and there has been more than a little heartache. But God has placed some key women in my life who have become my sisters. Sisters I can share things with and not worry about being judged. Sisters I can just be FEMALE with. Sisters who remind me that even though I am in a house full of boys, it's okay to paint my nails and watch Parenthood and just be a girl sometimes.

I am super grateful God gave me some of the best ladies around.

Simplifying

Ever since life changed forever back in October, I've been feeling the urge to simplify. To purge my possessions and keep only what is necessary or beautiful to my family.

Back when everything changed, I knew I couldn't make my sadness go away or turn back time and heal my dad, but the one thing I could do is make my home a place of peace. I started reading blogs on minimalism. Blogs that claim that letting go of things that require upkeep and space will help us feel more in control. I decided to give it a try.

Since then, I've made countless trips to Goodwill. I've sold some bigger items. And there is a lot more space. Without mindless shopping trips, there is more money for better food. For family experiences. For memories to be made.

I don't miss the stuff. Not at all.

It's easier to get dressed, because I have five shirts to choose from, not twenty five.
And five is still a lot.

We got rid of cable. Which is another form of simplifying. Less noise, no more advertisements telling my kids they need the latest toy. Now they are realizing they have everything they could ever really want already.

I simplified parties. I used to use my kid's birthdays as a way to invite everyone I know over. It was really overwhelming (and costly). Since October, I can't do crowds. Now, birthday parties consist of two friends from church, maybe a grandparent. You might not even call them parties. But my kids are happier and life seems easier this way.

Since October, I've learned that I don't want to waste time trying to impress people or acquire fancier things. I can't please everyone anyway, and life is too short to try. Money is nice, but it's not the end goal. I am happy, I have everything I need, I needn't wish for more.

March Update

There was a time when I blogged almost every day and loved it so much.
Then I had another kid.
And suddenly my typing time all but vanished.
I love writing.
I love it like some of you like running (I have TRIED to like running. I hate it. I really hate it).
But even though my time may be limited and I can guarantee there is something more productive I should be doing, I'm getting back into this old hobby. Not because I think anyone will read this.
Only because I think way too much and writing is so much cheaper than paying someone to be my therapist.
 So, without further a due, here's a little update on my foursome:

-I turned thirty. I turned thirty and the world kept spinning and I only had one major freakout about where my life is going, why I haven't discovered world peace yet, whether or not my eggs are bad, what I should do with the rest of my life, and whether I should just give up healthy eating and binge on hot fudge because it's all downhill from here. Ben threw me a party. Which was way better than a gift. He invited some of my girlfriends from church and helped clean the house and even steamed the carpets. We partied like it was 1985 and I will remember that night forever.

-I am working on weaning my baby. Yes, I realize he's 16 months old. My goal was always 18 months, but people (relatives) started hounding me to wean him. It really bothers some people when you nurse passed 12 months. We are gradually weaning. Dropping one feeding and replacing it with cow's milk. It'll take a few weeks. I know it's time, but I want it on record that I am NOT weaning because some people keep telling me to. Truth be told it would be nice to not have to watch my caffeine intake or go on a date with my husband (I hear that can be fun).  

-Speaking of opinions, I keep hearing that 30 is the year I stop caring what other people think about my life choices. Oh I hope so. I'm reading The Best Yes by Lysa Terkeurst and it's opening my eyes to the fact that it's okay to say no, it's okay to not seek out everyone's approval, and that no matter how hard I try, not everyone will always like me (and that's a good thing). I wish I had known about fabulous Lysa back in college. Would have saved me so much money on counseling.

-I've been working on preschool with Logan. Since we are homeschooling, I chose not to send him to VPK, but we've been working at home and it's been good. Please don't roll your eyes when I tell you he's brilliant. I know every mom thinks their kids are, but he really is! His vocabulary is that of a forty year old's. He loves to spell, he loves science, and he loves to quote bible verses (In a cute way. Not in an annoying way, I promise ).

-Our house is nearly ready to sell. We have one bathroom left to remodel, and Ben is working hard on it. The kitchen is done, and I have fallen in love with it. If I didn't miss Orlando so much I'd start begging to stay put.

There's more, so much more, but my kid's breakfast isn't going to make itself.
Happy Friday.

Okay

I still miss him.
Most days I push the sad thoughts out of my mind. Sometimes, out of nowhere, I'll hear a song, and it triggers the tears. The Beatles, especially. I can't listen to them anymore.
It's been four months.
I haven't healed yet.
Unless denial counts as healed.
He's up there though. I know that.
He's holding the babies I only ever got to hold in my belly.
He's okay up there.
I know that much.
But I still hurt for all that wasn't.
The reconciliation that will have to wait until Heaven.
And I give thanks for those that continue to hold me. Listen to me. Tell me it's okay to cry, to cuss, to binge on simple carbohydrates.
He wasn't perfect.
Most of my life I just wished he'd come visit me, watch me grow up.
But I get it now.
He just did the best he could.
He was broken.
So beautifully broken.
But he's not anymore.
He's up there.
And he's okay. 

A month of Dave Ramsey

This is a post about money. If money talk makes you uncomfortable, maybe go read something else. I am learning that there's a freedom that comes from raw honesty. That sometimes when you pour your heart out, someone else has the courage to say me too.
Christmas sent us over the edge, financially speaking. Due to hospital bills and an unexpected, dental insurance denied root canal, we were struggling to pay the bills. Add in presents for our gigantic, blended family (we have 15 nieces and nephews, I am now one of 9 kids, Ben one of 6, not including the spouses) and we were washed to sea.
January came, and it forced us to take a good hard look at things. What were we spending? How could we do better? Was there any hope? 
The answer to that last question turned out to be a big resounding YES.
One week I was in the nursery at church with my lovely friend Karena. I was pouring out my heart, for some odd reason. She mentioned that she and her husband Brian (Logan's fabulous teacher, as it turns out) went through Dave Ramsey's financial peace program at the beginning of their marriage, and it has helped them so much. They invited us over for lunch. A life changing lunch, actually.
They had us write down everything. Ben's salary. Our bills. Money in. Money out. It was humbling. And also encouraging. We left realizing that there IS hope.
We cut cable. We sold some of our clutter and made $150. We cut our grocery bill by a third.
And we're okay.
We're well fed. I gave up chocolate, mostly because I was spending so much money on this habit. And then I gave up all refined sugar. Our budget benefited immediately, and my health improved significantly. My tooth pain vanished. My skin started to glow. My energy skyrocketed. And because I wasn't spending money on junk, I started buying more real food. Cooking from scratch. And it's kind of fun. Kind of.
I'm not sure what our next step will be. Every baby step we've taken has had a ripple effect. It's almost a game now, to see how little we can spend and how much we can save.
I think my favorite thing about our experiment has been how it's benefited our marriage. Ben is not a talker, never has been. But during this month of change we've had some raw talks about money, our family, our future. And there have been some miracles.
It's true what people say. When you're at the bottom there really isn't anywhere to go but up. We're excited to hope again.

Content

Whew. We made it through Christmas. Through mounds of wrapping paper and too many receipts and unspeakable joy and extended family awkwardness and epiphanies and resolutions and a New Year's party and 1,000 other things. It was a good holiday season. It was a tough holiday season.

On December 10th we celebrated 9 years of marriage. 9. Yes, it feels like it's been that long. To be honest, life before marriage seems so blurry. We were just kids, almost 21 when we took that leap. But here we are, still standing.

We celebrated Christmas multiple times. We come from big families (a big, BLENDED family in my case. How many siblings do I have now? I've lost count. Seriously). There was tension, because this is the first Christmas without a certain loved one and everyone is grieving differently. Yes, I excused myself from the crowd of relatives to go cry in my mom's bedroom. More than once. And it was okay. There were spats and words said and tears and you know, I guess it's all so normal. We are not special. Siblings squabble and disagree and it's okay. The world still spins. And maybe I am baring my soul a little too much right now, but I just feel like it needs to be said. Families are not perfect. The ones that look like they are, aren't. I guess it's okay not to pretend.

However, Christmas morning with my boys, now THAT was perfect. It was. Nothing makes me happier than seeing my kids happy. I mean it. It brought me such joy to watch them open presents and jump up and down with happiness. It's what I imagine Heaven will feel like. My little family means a lot to me.

And now a new year is here and I'd like to jump on the train and say I vow to eat less sugar or remember to exercise every day, but I know I won't. So I simply choose one word. One word to guide me in my actions and my thoughts this year. For 2015 I choose to be content, right where I am. To stop wishing for younger looking skin or a nicer car or more babies. Because the truth is I have everything I need, and if I start playing the comparison game I will never come out on top. There will always be someone with more kids, better skin, a nicer home, and a fatter bank account. I am choosing to focus on what I have, not what you have. It's a daily exercise, but I think it's worthwhile. 

I'm nervous about this year. I turn 30, my oldest starts kindergarten, my baby won't be a baby for much longer. I can attempt to make time stand still, or I can resolve to embrace the changes. To stop pretending that I had any control to begin with.

Happy New Year, friends. 

Christmas Stamps

I took the boys to the post office. We went to buy Christmas stamps. The budget was oh so tight, I shouldn't have been spending another dime, let alone ten bucks on some silly stamps. But I really wanted to send out Christmas cards, and had a determined attitude.
I was feeling sorry for myself. My kids were whining because the line was long and one of my kids let out a big fart and I was a little embarrassed as everyone turned to stare.
Then I saw him. An old man in a wheelchair with a severely disfigured face. Most of his nose was missing. Was he a burn victim? A disabled veteran? I don't know. What I know is I was praying hard for my way too honest four year old to not say anything. But he did.
"Mommy, why is that man's nose so weird?"....came out of his little mouth. I was embarrassed. Wanted to hide. But the man scooted his wheelchair over and smiled. Told us he was sick and the doctor took his nose. That he was lonely most days but today was a good day because he was seeing us and we were cool. Started talking to us about Christmas and Logan's stuffed animal and just everything. Then the man looked right at me.
"Momma, sometime, you should take yourself out for a cup of coffee. Leave the kids with Dad. You could use a break, I can tell by looking at you. It's going to be alright. Just go get some coffee."
Here was a man with what looked like little to be grateful for, speaking encouragement into my life. He didn't know my name. Didn't know that it's a struggle to buy ten dollars worth of stamps right now. He just knew that maybe I needed a little encouragement. I cried a little bit. Told him I would pray for him to have a good Christmas. Told him about our church.
When the boys and I got to the car, I had a good talk with Logan. Told him that it's probably not nice to talk so openly about people's flaws, but that we are all flawed and we can help that man by praying for him to feel loved and to know that Jesus loves him.
I don't know the man's name. Don't know his story. But I know that he is treasured and that he matters. I'm grateful for that ten dollar lesson.