I used to love clothes shopping. I had a fave store, Petite Sophisticate, and shopping there was truly enjoyable. I guess I didn't shop there enough because they're now out of business. Boo.
I'm not going to go down the body image road today, but suffice it to say that I'm a petite frame. I'm one of those odd women that after kids I'm smaller than before. Not by much, but enough to make me miss Laura 1.0 pre-kids. Oh well. I'm at peace with it, even though the muffin top over the jeans really is annoying.
I would like a new pair of shorts. Not world peace, not my non-muffin top tummy back (even though that would be really great), just shorts that fit. I've come to accept the fact that Wal-Mart really isn't the answer to my clothing woes. It's easy to throw something in the cart as I walk by, but that's almost always a mistake. Today I was so close to throwing a pair of shorts in the cart. I really wanted to, but I fought the urge and decided to learn from past experience and left them on the rack.
I called my sweet husband and asked if I could go to Kohl's alone this weekend and get a pair of shorts. He gladly agreed to watch boys so I can shop. So wonderful.
I've come to accept that I have a champagne size and a pork rind budget just doesn't quite work. (I read that phrase in Kissing Adrien by Siri L. Mitchell. Fantastic book). I'm proud that the first step is saying no to me at Wal-Mart.
Friday, May 30, 2014
Thursday, May 15, 2014
Last MDO for a while
It's ironic. When I started having mom's day out for the twins, I had a hard time with it. I felt guilty for having time for myself. Then I got pregnant with #3 and needed to time to rest and go to dr appointments alone. Then I had #3 and when the day came for him to join the twins at mom's day out I was just happy to breathe alone for that time.
And now, it's #3's last day for MDO. Allow me to brag what I'm doing on this monumental day: lots of things I love. Am I cleaning out the garage. Nope. Am I mending clothes? No. Am I canning fruit? No. Am I writing the great American novel. No way. Maybe tomorrow on that one.
Instead, I tried out a new coffee and used books shop. Loved every minute in there and scored some great reads for summertime. I can home and enjoyed my quiet home. Talked to mom at length and didn't get interrupted. Wrote on the family blog. Even wrote on my Spanish blog which I rarely do. To write on it, I have to be inspired by something non-momish. Those moments are tough to come by but today I composed something lovely about how I want to resist change and bury my head in the sand but that God is showing me He didn't create me to be an ostrich. I played favorite songs on the piano and sang. Loudly. In a bit I'll meet up with a friend at a lovely girlie lunch spot. I'll do a bit of shopping at the Dollar Tree (I seriously do love that place) until it's time to pick up small fry.
Will this day change the course of human history? Probably not but will it recharge my batteries? Absolutely. And that, my friends, is a good way to spend my time.
And now, it's #3's last day for MDO. Allow me to brag what I'm doing on this monumental day: lots of things I love. Am I cleaning out the garage. Nope. Am I mending clothes? No. Am I canning fruit? No. Am I writing the great American novel. No way. Maybe tomorrow on that one.
Instead, I tried out a new coffee and used books shop. Loved every minute in there and scored some great reads for summertime. I can home and enjoyed my quiet home. Talked to mom at length and didn't get interrupted. Wrote on the family blog. Even wrote on my Spanish blog which I rarely do. To write on it, I have to be inspired by something non-momish. Those moments are tough to come by but today I composed something lovely about how I want to resist change and bury my head in the sand but that God is showing me He didn't create me to be an ostrich. I played favorite songs on the piano and sang. Loudly. In a bit I'll meet up with a friend at a lovely girlie lunch spot. I'll do a bit of shopping at the Dollar Tree (I seriously do love that place) until it's time to pick up small fry.
Will this day change the course of human history? Probably not but will it recharge my batteries? Absolutely. And that, my friends, is a good way to spend my time.
Saturday, May 10, 2014
Angry Mother's Day
This post is going to be a bit saucy. If you absolutely love tomorrow's holiday, I'm so glad for you. You and Hallmark can go enjoy tomorrow while the rest of us growl about the injustice of it all.
Back when I only had one family--that of my parents--Mother's Day was simple: make the day all about my mom. Make her breakfast in bed, give her a card, make her day easy. I actually saw an episode of Sid the Science Kid that even though they never said the words "Mother's Day" the special mom day was exactly this.
And then I began having my own Mother's Days. Apparently, Aaron didn't watch that episode of Sid the Science Kid and if he did, he forgot to take notes.
I've come to the conclusion that there are holiday people in the world and then there are what? I'm supposed to do something on a holiday? people. I'm the former and married the latter.
I remember back in pre-marriage counseling talking about expectations. At that point, we had such rose-colored glasses that we couldn't even fathom that there would be conflict in our marriage. Ah, the sweetness of youth.
I spent my first few Mother's Days angry. I really thought Aaron would drop everything to treat me like a queen. When he didn't, I would get upset. This would confuse him and I would get more upset. Clearly not a great path. He could have gotten me a card for Angry Mom's Day those years.
On the path of getting better, a few years ago I thought outside the box and asked for Aaron to watch the 3 boys ages 3,3 and 1 at the time while I drove to meet my parents for lunch. The city was about 45 minutes from our house and even though my mom was disappointed with not seeing her grandsons, it's frustrating for her that she and I rarely get to spend time together doing girl things. This sounded like a perfect solution. Except that the restaurant we chose was ridiculously crowded and I really don't care to wait for over an hour for a meal. Oh well.
Last year Aaron and I got into a tiff over breakfast in bed. In my mind, all moms get breakfast in bed on Mother's Day. Nope. That was just too unrealistic for me to expect. The irony is that the boys really wanted to do it, so he caved and helped them do it. I have a snapshot of the breakfast and me in bed receiving it.
Later, after church, we struck Mother's Day gold: Dairy Queen. While everyone else in the world was waiting to eat Sunday lunch at Olive Garden, we drove on in to Dairy Queen. We enjoyed a lovely meal and they had the best dessert ever: a blizzard with pretzel pieces. Seriously. So good. I decided this will be our Mother's Day lunch tradition. No dishes to wash, no cooking, no line to wait in for a table, no behavior to worry about while we wait for the food and awesome blizzards. This really is a fantastic idea. I show make an ad for them and put it at the end of Sid the Science Kid.
This year, I've evolved even further: I got myself my own gift a month ago. There was a sale at Shutterfly so I asked mom what she wanted. A photo book. I made a lovely book that ironically enough had a collection of pictures from Mother's Days since I've been a mom. It was really neat to look back on the boys at those times. As I was making her book which she is going to LOVE, I saw that they have these little collage art pieces that are the perfect size to fit on top of my piano. I made one of our camping trip. I really, really love it. When I look at it I'm reminded of a sweet moment in my mothering journey. One of the pictures have all 3 of the boys on swings, one with his legs up in the air. Such a perfect picture of where we are right now.
One of the trickiest parts of marriage is choosing how I'm going to feel about things instead of allowing Aaron's reactions dictate mine. In an hour we're headed up the road a bit to meet my parents for Mother's Day. This was my idea. We'll meet up at 11 the day before Mother's Day and hopefully we can enjoy a meal and not have to wait in a huge line. After, we're going to go to the city's wonderful park and the boys can play while we chat.
Aaron has work to do on the farm. I made it clear he can stay here but he feels duty-bound to go with us. He will be back home to have plenty of time to do more work this afternoon. This is me, being a grown-up and saying that I'm going to enjoy this day with my family. I am declaring it won't be Angry Mother's Day, reflecting his mood that he would prefer to be working on the farm. I get a day, gosh darn it! There's that anger again. Maybe next year I'll be a bit further down this journey...
Back when I only had one family--that of my parents--Mother's Day was simple: make the day all about my mom. Make her breakfast in bed, give her a card, make her day easy. I actually saw an episode of Sid the Science Kid that even though they never said the words "Mother's Day" the special mom day was exactly this.
And then I began having my own Mother's Days. Apparently, Aaron didn't watch that episode of Sid the Science Kid and if he did, he forgot to take notes.
I've come to the conclusion that there are holiday people in the world and then there are what? I'm supposed to do something on a holiday? people. I'm the former and married the latter.
I remember back in pre-marriage counseling talking about expectations. At that point, we had such rose-colored glasses that we couldn't even fathom that there would be conflict in our marriage. Ah, the sweetness of youth.
I spent my first few Mother's Days angry. I really thought Aaron would drop everything to treat me like a queen. When he didn't, I would get upset. This would confuse him and I would get more upset. Clearly not a great path. He could have gotten me a card for Angry Mom's Day those years.
On the path of getting better, a few years ago I thought outside the box and asked for Aaron to watch the 3 boys ages 3,3 and 1 at the time while I drove to meet my parents for lunch. The city was about 45 minutes from our house and even though my mom was disappointed with not seeing her grandsons, it's frustrating for her that she and I rarely get to spend time together doing girl things. This sounded like a perfect solution. Except that the restaurant we chose was ridiculously crowded and I really don't care to wait for over an hour for a meal. Oh well.
Last year Aaron and I got into a tiff over breakfast in bed. In my mind, all moms get breakfast in bed on Mother's Day. Nope. That was just too unrealistic for me to expect. The irony is that the boys really wanted to do it, so he caved and helped them do it. I have a snapshot of the breakfast and me in bed receiving it.
Later, after church, we struck Mother's Day gold: Dairy Queen. While everyone else in the world was waiting to eat Sunday lunch at Olive Garden, we drove on in to Dairy Queen. We enjoyed a lovely meal and they had the best dessert ever: a blizzard with pretzel pieces. Seriously. So good. I decided this will be our Mother's Day lunch tradition. No dishes to wash, no cooking, no line to wait in for a table, no behavior to worry about while we wait for the food and awesome blizzards. This really is a fantastic idea. I show make an ad for them and put it at the end of Sid the Science Kid.
This year, I've evolved even further: I got myself my own gift a month ago. There was a sale at Shutterfly so I asked mom what she wanted. A photo book. I made a lovely book that ironically enough had a collection of pictures from Mother's Days since I've been a mom. It was really neat to look back on the boys at those times. As I was making her book which she is going to LOVE, I saw that they have these little collage art pieces that are the perfect size to fit on top of my piano. I made one of our camping trip. I really, really love it. When I look at it I'm reminded of a sweet moment in my mothering journey. One of the pictures have all 3 of the boys on swings, one with his legs up in the air. Such a perfect picture of where we are right now.
One of the trickiest parts of marriage is choosing how I'm going to feel about things instead of allowing Aaron's reactions dictate mine. In an hour we're headed up the road a bit to meet my parents for Mother's Day. This was my idea. We'll meet up at 11 the day before Mother's Day and hopefully we can enjoy a meal and not have to wait in a huge line. After, we're going to go to the city's wonderful park and the boys can play while we chat.
Aaron has work to do on the farm. I made it clear he can stay here but he feels duty-bound to go with us. He will be back home to have plenty of time to do more work this afternoon. This is me, being a grown-up and saying that I'm going to enjoy this day with my family. I am declaring it won't be Angry Mother's Day, reflecting his mood that he would prefer to be working on the farm. I get a day, gosh darn it! There's that anger again. Maybe next year I'll be a bit further down this journey...
Tuesday, May 6, 2014
Growing in music
I decided yesterday that I need to learn to play a new instrument. My grandmother, a piano teacher that was of the thought that perfection is the goal of music, would shudder at the thought of me attempting yet another instrument. I will agree that I play 2 instruments and I'm not an expert at either. I do, however, thoroughly enjoy both so why not add a third?
I'm encouraging my older boys to start piano lessons next fall. I've told all 3 boys that my dream for them is that they all can play the piano better than I can. Granted, I play well. I can sight read well and accompany at my bible study. Not perfectly, but I do a darn good job. I can also transpose into any key. Very helpful to our guitar player on the praise team. If they play as well as I do I will be a very happy mom. But who's stopping me from dreaming big?
Aaron and I both love music. He is interesting with music. He loves to analyze how all the parts of an orchestra fit together to make the beautiful sound. I'm more right brain with it--I love the poetry of music and how it makes me feel. It's my favorite way to worship the Lord.
As I was talking to the boys about them learning their first instrument, I thought it would be a great time for me to undertake a new instrument as well. Since I've been married to Aaron, he's taught himself to play the tuba as well as the banjo. He had piano lessons as a boy and played the trumpet well in high school, but just before the twins were born our church orchestra's tubist was graduating and going off to college, so the call went out for a new tubist. Aaron decided to be it. He worked hard to learn bass cleff and he succeeded in playing the tuba. I love that about him.
About a year ago he watched me play the guitar with the boys. I hold my fingers on the frets and I let them strum as we would sing. Aaron wanted to be a part of that, so he decided to learn to play the banjo. He has. I've become a better guitar player as we play together from time to time.
A regret I have about high school is that I didn't play in the band or orchestra even though many of my friends did. I sang in the show choir (jazz hands!) my sophomore year because I wasn't good enough to make the cut for jr and sr year. (I couldn't do back hand-springs. Seriously. It was a huge high school).
As an adult, I want to play the cello. I don't want to play it in the church orchestra; I just want to play because I love the richness of the sound. I told this to my family at dinner last night and Aaron thought it was a great idea. He asked why the cello. I told him that its music makes me feel like a butterfly. That coming out of the mouth of a 35 year old woman should illicit a laugh, but it didn't. After dinner, he found a cellist on You Tube to show the boys. We discussed all about the instrument. He looked up online how much this ridiculous plan will cost. I need to save my pennies, but it's doable.
He's also happy because a bluegrass band he likes has records for banjo and cello duets. He thinks we should tackle one. Big dreamer, my man.
I love that I'm married to a man that encourages me to be my best. I love that we share a passion for music. So much of what I do is drudgery. That's just life. Yes, I could say no to more things and that could help. But this life will have sorrow, toil and gross stuff. It will miss the mark to perfect happiness. I know this earth can't give true happiness but I like the thought of doing something so totally just for me.
I also love that Aaron wants cheer me on to be a butterfly. What more could a gal ask for?
I'm encouraging my older boys to start piano lessons next fall. I've told all 3 boys that my dream for them is that they all can play the piano better than I can. Granted, I play well. I can sight read well and accompany at my bible study. Not perfectly, but I do a darn good job. I can also transpose into any key. Very helpful to our guitar player on the praise team. If they play as well as I do I will be a very happy mom. But who's stopping me from dreaming big?
Aaron and I both love music. He is interesting with music. He loves to analyze how all the parts of an orchestra fit together to make the beautiful sound. I'm more right brain with it--I love the poetry of music and how it makes me feel. It's my favorite way to worship the Lord.
As I was talking to the boys about them learning their first instrument, I thought it would be a great time for me to undertake a new instrument as well. Since I've been married to Aaron, he's taught himself to play the tuba as well as the banjo. He had piano lessons as a boy and played the trumpet well in high school, but just before the twins were born our church orchestra's tubist was graduating and going off to college, so the call went out for a new tubist. Aaron decided to be it. He worked hard to learn bass cleff and he succeeded in playing the tuba. I love that about him.
About a year ago he watched me play the guitar with the boys. I hold my fingers on the frets and I let them strum as we would sing. Aaron wanted to be a part of that, so he decided to learn to play the banjo. He has. I've become a better guitar player as we play together from time to time.
A regret I have about high school is that I didn't play in the band or orchestra even though many of my friends did. I sang in the show choir (jazz hands!) my sophomore year because I wasn't good enough to make the cut for jr and sr year. (I couldn't do back hand-springs. Seriously. It was a huge high school).
As an adult, I want to play the cello. I don't want to play it in the church orchestra; I just want to play because I love the richness of the sound. I told this to my family at dinner last night and Aaron thought it was a great idea. He asked why the cello. I told him that its music makes me feel like a butterfly. That coming out of the mouth of a 35 year old woman should illicit a laugh, but it didn't. After dinner, he found a cellist on You Tube to show the boys. We discussed all about the instrument. He looked up online how much this ridiculous plan will cost. I need to save my pennies, but it's doable.
He's also happy because a bluegrass band he likes has records for banjo and cello duets. He thinks we should tackle one. Big dreamer, my man.
I love that I'm married to a man that encourages me to be my best. I love that we share a passion for music. So much of what I do is drudgery. That's just life. Yes, I could say no to more things and that could help. But this life will have sorrow, toil and gross stuff. It will miss the mark to perfect happiness. I know this earth can't give true happiness but I like the thought of doing something so totally just for me.
I also love that Aaron wants cheer me on to be a butterfly. What more could a gal ask for?
Saturday, May 3, 2014
Lessons learned
As I'm working through this book, Restless, I can say that reflecting back on my happiest memories was way more enjoyable than reflecting back to times of suffering.
I loved listing proudly my happy times. Who wouldn't? I'm not going to do the same with times of suffering. Suffice it to say that in comparison to how evil this world can be, my road has been very easy. Not perfect, but I have much to be grateful for.
The author pointed out a beautiful point that justified going down the not fun paths of memory lane: "In the messiest waste of our lives comes the most fertile soil." --Jennie Allen from Restless. Wow. That's a really profound statement.
I was adopted as a baby. My parents were unable to have children and were thrilled to be able to adopt my older brother and me. I know I'm loved by them but in my heart of hearts I've always felt like I had to earn their love. I'm a people pleaser and I think it's because I want to earn the acceptance of those around me. This often includes God. In the faith versus works discussion, I really like works. I can make a checklist and check those things off. Yes, I know my legalistic bend isn't of God. As I've matured in my faith I've found that it's sinful.
I love that I married a non-people pleaser. It's wonderfully freeing to watch him say no and feel no guilt. He confuses my mom who really believes all people are people pleasers except those who choose to be rude. Sons 1 and 3 are pleasers. Son 2 often confuses her as well.
My love language is words of affirmation. It should be no surprise that I offer words of encouragement to people very regularly because it's what I want to hear.
My heart breaks for the lonely, the sad, the downtrodden, the one just on the outside. I asked my husband once what part of the body of Christ I am. My friend Jenny is clearly the heart as she mercifully helps in any way she can. Anna is the smile as hospitality and offering true warmth is natural to her. He replied in a way that made me glad I married him, "You're the arms. You open your arms to all and make them feel welcomed." How beautiful to be understood.
It wasn't fun to recall those sad and painful moments in my life, but it helped me see that they've had a part of shaping me into who I am. God uses all for good, even the dark blots we wish weren't there.
I loved listing proudly my happy times. Who wouldn't? I'm not going to do the same with times of suffering. Suffice it to say that in comparison to how evil this world can be, my road has been very easy. Not perfect, but I have much to be grateful for.
The author pointed out a beautiful point that justified going down the not fun paths of memory lane: "In the messiest waste of our lives comes the most fertile soil." --Jennie Allen from Restless. Wow. That's a really profound statement.
I was adopted as a baby. My parents were unable to have children and were thrilled to be able to adopt my older brother and me. I know I'm loved by them but in my heart of hearts I've always felt like I had to earn their love. I'm a people pleaser and I think it's because I want to earn the acceptance of those around me. This often includes God. In the faith versus works discussion, I really like works. I can make a checklist and check those things off. Yes, I know my legalistic bend isn't of God. As I've matured in my faith I've found that it's sinful.
I love that I married a non-people pleaser. It's wonderfully freeing to watch him say no and feel no guilt. He confuses my mom who really believes all people are people pleasers except those who choose to be rude. Sons 1 and 3 are pleasers. Son 2 often confuses her as well.
My love language is words of affirmation. It should be no surprise that I offer words of encouragement to people very regularly because it's what I want to hear.
My heart breaks for the lonely, the sad, the downtrodden, the one just on the outside. I asked my husband once what part of the body of Christ I am. My friend Jenny is clearly the heart as she mercifully helps in any way she can. Anna is the smile as hospitality and offering true warmth is natural to her. He replied in a way that made me glad I married him, "You're the arms. You open your arms to all and make them feel welcomed." How beautiful to be understood.
It wasn't fun to recall those sad and painful moments in my life, but it helped me see that they've had a part of shaping me into who I am. God uses all for good, even the dark blots we wish weren't there.
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