Confession Time

This

is what my house looks like most Monday mornings…. I know.  But with a little coffee, and maybe a Junior Mint or two (which always makes me smile and think of my Grandma Marion, whom I ADORE) I may be able to channel a domestic diva and get this mess cleaned up.

Here’s the problem, remember when I said here that I was re-doing my bedroom, after 8 years of never spending a dime on my hublover’s and my room?  Well, it is well on its way.  And I never want to leave my room in the morning.  Or the afternoon.  Or the evening. 

{inspiration to finally decorate from Heather and her Life Made Lovely idea}
I’m at a new place in my life.  For eight years I have been living in Babyville.  Alex wanted one child, and I wanted, well, a lot.  So we compromised and had two.  And then two more surprises.  And while I am still longing to feel the soft rolls and hiccups of a baby moving inside of me.  To be fully consumed by the wonder and miracle of doing what I was made to do.  I realize that Alex has been more than understanding of this fertile myrtle, and I have to find a way to move into a new phase of life where there aren’t pacifiers and thermal swaddling blankets. 

So I’m trying to adjust.  And my bedroom is part of that growing process. 
Its like getting a new haircut after a breakup!  It helps you move on, walk away, and gives you just a little bit of confidence with a dash of hot badassness. 
I’m never going to forget the countless hours I spent nursing and snuggling my babies in my old bed or how the sun shined through the window right into the bassinette.  Or how many nights a little warm body would {still} climb up into bed and nestles against me.  I’m still going to fall into bed every night with my man, tucking my ice-toes under his leg.  And I’m still going to wake up every morning with one or more of three three girls tucked in with me {Donovan can’t get out of his crib yet}.  That’s what is important.  Not that I don’t have any more babies making butterfly/break-dancing moves inside me, but that I now get to grow and learn alongside my four living heartbeats. 
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The *Mother*Load

It happens in a moment.  A span of 10 minutes.  But you know that you will remember it forever.  Last night was one of those.  I’m sitting in a dark room in a rocking chair with my newly, two year old son.  He is sleepily running his fingers over the navy satin of his blanket like he does every time he gets tired.  Its nice and warm and the only sound is the hum of the humidifier.  His little footy pajamed feet are sticking out from the blanket and I am singing him his favorite lullabies.  Always the same and in the same order.  I’m just like that.  And for the first time since he woke up twelve hours before he is still. 

After a few minutes, I feel his breathing slow on my own chest and think that he has drifted off to sleep.  So I slowly start to stand, but before my rear is even off the chair a little pointy finger pops up out from under the blanket, and a commanding voice says “SING!”

So I do.  And Donovan, he nestles himself back into me, closes his eyes again, and sweetly strokes the back of my hand with his tiny little fingers until he eventually does fall asleep to a medley of “Moon River” and “Edelweiss.”

And that is the mother-load.  The ability to rock your baby to sleep at night.  Ten minutes that I wouldn’t trade for a real mother-load of gold.

The Cold Hard Facts…

…..about me.  The interesting, and the not so.

1. Mom to 5.  One I just won’t see until I draw my last breath and I anticipate that day! But I do have one precious ultrasound photo of him that a kind hearted OB graciously gave me in a moment of divine grace to a devastated woman and her husband.  (That was a really long sentence)
2. I don’t sew.  I don’t scrapbook.  I don’t take quality photos.  I don’t decorate well.  But I would love to have the ability!
3. Within moments of getting out of the shower I have to dry my ears.  Inner, lobes, behind them.  I can’t focus on anything until my ears are dry.  There are times, too many to count, where I have jumped out of  bed at night and exclaimed to my poor husband, “I FORGOT TO DRY MY EARS!!”  like the world is about to end or there’s a robber in the house.
4. I keep forgetting that I HATE having bangs.  Then I cut them, because I get bored.  Only to remember, horrified later that I can’t stand to have hair touching and tickling my forehead.
5.  I’m considerate of others.  Just am.  Not bragging.  I just am.  I like to be nice. Which leads to number 6.
6. I hate it when people are rude or unkind.  There’s no sense in it.  I get all riled up when someone I care about is treated unjustly and have been known to cry my eyes out if it happens to me.
7.  I detest fads.  Fad diets, fad toys, fad coffee, fad purses.  I rebel against it and refuse to be a part of it.  If you want to enjoy something, enjoy it.  But do not get freaking OBSESSED about it.  Its irritating, and I don’t want to hear about it. 
8.  So poor when I was little that we made finger nail polish out of markers and glue.
9. Have been on my wonderful adventures with my husband including hanging out at Catherine Hepburn’s estate, stayed at the Four Season’s in Philadelphia, saw Phantom of the Opera on Broadway, watched a taping of the Today Show in NYC…. the list goes on and on.  We have fun together.
10. I have a tendency to overflow jacuzzi bathtubs in hotels.  And everytime I am shocked that I did it again.

11.  This is me and my sister Aubrey.  She is all of the crafty that I am not.  She is also my bestie.  We are forced to be friends from afar as we live in different states.
12.  My son and I dance to a  Flo Rida song almost every day in the kitchen.  Totally inappropriate lyrics and someday I will stop doing it, but if you have ever seen a baby break out in some rockin’ dance moves, to only ONE song, you understand the need to repeat that “cutest thing in the world behaviour.”  At least its not “Baby Got Back” like in that one Friends episode.  See, it could be worse.

13. This is my other BFF.  My big sister Katie.  She rocks.  She is probably the most supportive person I’ve ever know.  Also long-distance, but we make it work.
14. I would love to write a book. Maybe someday.  I just don’t know if I have enough thoughts to fill one up.
15. I have delusions of grandeur.  To be a famous actress, country music star, to be Samantha Brown from the Travel Channel, best selling author.  Oh yeah.  Its no joke.     
And you?  Give me one random fact about you.  Lets get to know each other.

A Small Goodbye

 We’re hurting with the loss of a dear grandfather.  Someone we love deeply.

 Someone who helped raise Alex.  Someone who helped him become the man that I get to cherish every day.  Someone who was very first in welcoming me into Alex’s family.  I will never forget the very first time I met Opa.  I was dating Alex and we went over to his grandparent’s house for dinner.  I was terribly full of nerves and avoiding all glasswear so no one would notice my hands shaking.  Opa put his arm around my shoulder, gave me a huge smile and said  in his sweet South African accent, “You will sit by me!”  And so I did.  We chatted the rest of the way through dinner and after and I couldn’t wait to go back and visit again.  So thank you Opa.  Without you there would be no Alex.  And that’s just not a world I would ever want to live in. You held my babies, you played hide and seek with them, you made silly faces for shy girls to smile at and  I love you forever.

New Year, New Possibilities

This year is going to be something old, made new again.  It is going to be a year of anticipation.  I’d like to say it is going to be a great year.  But I don’t really know what it has in store for me.   Life can turn you upside down in a single instant.  However, my hopes are for something outstanding.  The best year yet.  This last year was filled with so many triumphs and heartbreaks.  My world was rocked in a good way and also in terrible ways.  There was so much unspeakable joy, and also moments on my knees broken.  I can’t wait to see what this year will bring!!  And so with change and possibility in mind,  my bedroom required a fresh new coat of paint…. or four.  Since we bought this house almost 6 years ago, we never did any decorating with our room, but bring in our hand me down furniture and let it fill up with laundry baskets week after week after month after year. 

Which, now that I think about it is exactly a metaphor for my life.  I am an old Christian, longing to be made new again.  I have sort of just been making it through, being functional.  Like my bedroom.  Its functional.  Is it pretty?  No.  Is it outstanding?  No.  Does it inspire?  No.  So, I think a new, divine coat of paint is in order.  And I’m talking primer/paint combo.  The good thick stuff!  I’ve gotten filled up with laundry and mess and dresser drawers that could wake the dead.   I don’t have any protective curtains, just bare rods.  So, this year I am going to work on my room.  I’m going to work on being an old Christian that is made new again.  What does that mean though???  I am not going to recite the same mantra that I probably have a bunch of times, like I’m going to read my Bible more (although I hope to), I’m going to pray more (I’m really going to try though), I’ll be a better parent (definitely want to though).  No, what this new coat of paint looks like is being completely open.  I know God is going to stretch me.  I’m going to listen and obey. Simple right?  Even though the first thing He wants me to do seems way out of my league and my own selfish desires are screaming “YOU DON’T NEED TO DO THAT!!  THINK ABOUT YOURSELF!” 

I’m going to put up a fight this year!  I’m going to follow my husband’s lead, who is becoming more than I ever dreamed, which considering he was pretty phenomenal to begin with, is quite astounding.  Alex is pushing me to be better without even saying a word.  And I love him for it.  All to make my God and family proud.

And my room isn’t the only thing that is making big changes.  Stay tuned!
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