Happy New Year!
So hard to believe that it is already 2014. Writing it for the first time last week was so weird, just like it is every year. It always takes me a good month or two to fully grasp that it is, in fact, a different year. Once again.
2013 was definitely a challenging-yet-amazing year. Definitely the most life-changing year I have faced, thus far. I not only became a wife, but I started nannying again, planned a wedding without having a clue what I was doing, moved out of my parents home, I gained many in-laws, started cooking almost-daily, I had to get used to the fact that my last name is no longer Morris (which I am still getting used to...), tried to figure out how to live with a guy, became solely responsible for laundry, all the while figuring out this new identity I have taken on when I said, 'I do.'
Becoming a wife has been a lot harder than I anticipated.
I know I say this quite often throughout all of my entries, but it's so true. And I think it'll be the same when I become a mom for the first time. Being a wife is the most rewarding 'title' I've ever had, but it has also been the most difficult.
Now, don't misunderstand me when I say difficult. Let me explain.
There are many books out there written on marriage. Countless, even. Chris and I have bought and read a couple of them, and they were really insightful. There are also a ton of blogs and advice columns that are full of 'how to's' and 'don't do's' with your marriage. And, of course, everywhere you turn, there is someone who is ready to tell you how to make your marriage successful and pass on their wisdom to the next generation.
If you want any kind of information on how to have a fruitful, Godly marriage, it's available at your finger tips.
But, even with the technology and the bookstores and the wisdom others have gained, there is nothing that can fully prepare you for what married life is actually like. Absolutely nothing.
I fully believe that God created me to be a wife and mom. From the time I was very young, that's all I ever wanted. I honestly cannot remember a time when there was something else I really wanted to do with my life. All I could ever imagine for me when I was a 'grown up' was to be a stay-at-home wife and mom.
God has placed this desire so strongly in me, so this must come easy to me, right?
Yeah...no.
There isn't a book out there that addresses the tears filling up your eyes while you're trying to figure out how to be a wife, nanny, dance teacher, sister, daughter, and a good friend all at once. There's no blog that can explain just how frustrated you become when you walk in the door after working 12 hours to find dirty dishes in the sink that you need for cooking dinner, the closets going bare while laundry is piled high beside the washing machine, and a starving man sitting in the living room who's also worked all day with no energy to do anything either. And no one can tell you why you are getting emotional when you can't tell if you're getting serious baby fever, or you're just wanting to fill the void of being desperately needed by someone.
No one, nor anything, can fully prepare you for what taking a man's last name fully entails. It brings out feelings and emotions you've never experienced before, and it goes against everything you've been doing the past 10+ years. It requires time, dedication, determination, perseverance, communication, cooperation, faithfulness,humility tons of prayer and even some yelling to make it work. It's changing your mindset from 'taking care of me,' to 'taking care of us.' It's adjusting the way you approach absolutely everything.
It's so much more than just marrying your best friend. It's everything that begins after the honeymoon ends.
Being a wife is tough, and it's more than I anticipated it being.
But, it brings me so much more joy and fulfillment than I could've ever imagined.
There is a man, who was a complete stranger to me just over 2 years ago, that has fallen in love with me the same way I have fallen in love with him. He knows that I'm crazy, I cry constantly, I can't make up my mind, and that I'm quiet when I'm hurting, but will blow up when I hit my limit. He knows I can become overwhelmed quickly, I'm a people-pleaser, that my love of coffee and chocolate may be a little ridiculous, and that I'm crazy.
Did I mention I'm crazy?
He didn't have to love me; but he chose to.
I get to go home to someone every night, who I know is just as excited to see me as I am to see him. There is someone who wants to know how my day went, who desires for me to lean on him when I'm struggling, and who enjoys starting tickle-fights with me (you're never too old for a good tickle-fight, especially with the guy is super ticklish!). I get to say goodnight to the love of my life every night, and get to kiss him goodbye every morning.
There's a man who wanted to give me his last name, who desires to take care of me, who wants to have kids with me, and is looking forward to growing old with me. He gave up the life of a bachelor just to become my husband.
My husband.
Being a wife isn't exactly the most glorious and glamourous role a woman can have, and it's definitely not the easiest, but it's the most amazing title I could've ever asked for.
Especially once I understood what being a wife meant.
Of course, there will be days when I forgot how wonderful the title 'wife' is. I imagine it will probably be when I'm wanting to talk while Chris is watching a game, or when I'm awake at 3:00am feeding a baby while he snoozes away, but I do know that he will continue to give me butterflies anytime I'm around him, and I will always be so blessed to to have him choose me to become his help mate.
******
I promise, I will start including more recipes and other life-experiences in this blog. But, in my defense, I've only been a wife for 4 months, 2 weeks, and 6 days.
I'm still a love-stricken newlywed, and I'm going to enjoy it as long as I can :)
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Monday, January 6, 2014
Wednesday, November 20, 2013
Women Are Like Onions...
I think I am FINALLY over the awful beginnings of a sinus infection. I still don't feel awesome, but I feel so much better than I did. Just in time for me to hang out with the little man today, sure have missed him on my days off!
After babysitting for so many families, and having dozens of little girls walk into my class at dance, it's safe to say that no two children are alike.
If you have more than one child, or if you have had a group of kids in the same room with you for longer than 5 minutes, you know what I mean.
Especially with the little girls. Every little girl I have encountered is different from the next. And that doesn't change as they get older. In fact, I think it becomes even more evident how different women can be from one another.
Some women are strong, independent, 'no man-no cry' attitude who are very much career driven.
Some women are timid, very shy, non-assertive in social situations who are more than okay with taking the back seat to others who want the spotlight.
Others are funny, the life of the party, hasn't met a stranger before and probably never will. And you can't forget those who are just down-right awkward, but embrace it and love themselves for it.
Not all are this cut-and-dry, though. Probably more women than not are a mixture of two or three of these, plus other characteristics I haven't even begun to talk about yet.
Women are like onions: we have many, many layers.
Now, I cannot sit here and break down every layer of a woman. We will be here for years. But I can talk about a few of my layers, since I know myself better than any other woman out there and can be a little more transparent than just summarizing.
Side note: I think this is why the first year or two of marriage are some of the hardest. Whoever said, 'the first year is the honeymoon year,' got lucky. I have enjoyed every second of being married to Chris, but it's tough! Most of our arguments and disagreements don't stem from Chris, but from me. And it almost always has something to do with a 'layer' of me that Chris either doesn't know well or hasn't discovered.
Anyways, back to our discussion of women being like onions.
Being a woman is so very complex. There's so much to a woman's heart and spirit, that I feel like I discover something new about my own self all of the time. With each new experience, I uncover either more layers about myself, or just how thick and deep some of those layers I already knew about are. Being a woman doesn't come with a handbook, although I (and my husband) wish it did.
Since I was very young, I've been more on the sensitive side. I would cry at the drop of a hat, especially if someone else was crying. Although I've gotten a little more control over it, I still cry all of the time. At least two or three times a day I am wiping tears off of my cheeks.
I've also been a nurturer and desire nurturing in return. I want to take care of everyone, while being taken care of as well. I enjoyed baby dolls growing up, and I think that's what has inspired me to be a nanny. Also, I spent a huge part of my life at home with my mom and sisters, so that nurturing/being nurtured characteristic has come very naturally and has been encouraged for as long as I can remember.
Once I become a teenager and realized boys did not have cooties, I noticed another side of me: the hopeless romantic.
I have never been a career-driven women. There was nothing offered in high school that inspired me to commit 4+ years in college to achieve my goal. I wasn't the little girl who knew she wanted to be a school teacher or a nurse when she grew up. If anything, I wanted to be an actress, but we see how far that dream has gotten me. There was just nothing out there in the world that I wanted to be.
Except a wife and mom.
Instead of pursuing a college degree, I was pursuing a marriage license. I wanted to find the love of my life, take his last name, then make some babies.
All within a year or two of meeting.
I was an unrealistic hopeless romantic.
Once I went through high school without a date, I then figured I'd better figure out what I should do with my life in the meantime. I decided to then enroll at Augusta Tech to pursue an Associate's Degree in Early Childhood Care and Education.
That lasted all of three weeks.
I don't regret dropping out of Augusta Tech, not at all. But part of me does regret that I didn't then enroll at Augusta State University. Even if I didn't finish a degree, I would've at least had a foundation if I ever decided to go back. If I decided to go back in the future, I would have to start from scratch.
But that's okay, though! My life may be somewhere different now if I had.
Once I dropped out, I then had to find a job. That December, I got my first nannying job, watching little Miss Bella. I also became a dance teacher, a doctor's receptionist, a preschool worker at my childhood church, and babysat on the side.
All the while, still single and looking for love. But no luck.
I didn't keep a job for super long, because I wasn't happy. Nothing, with the exception of teaching dance and watching babies, satisfied what my soul desired. I desired love and to be loved. I desired to take care of and be taken care of. I desired a man to sweep me off my feet and carry me off into the sunset.
Many men came, and they all went. Some by their choice, some by mine. Most left on a bad note, a couple scarred me deeper than I ever thought imaginable. None were my Knight in Shining Armor.
At this moment, I realized just how much of a hopeless romantic I was. I always thought there was something wrong with me, though. Why didn't I desire to be a teacher or an accountant? Why were people insisting that I was wasting my intelligence by not attending college, that they were almost disappointed in me that I wasn't enrolled somewhere earning a degree? It just added fuel to the fire that was telling me I was wrong with the direction I allowed my life to go in, but why was I not driven to do and to be what they wanted me to be?
Why do I have this 'layer' of my life that makes up such a huge part of me, but I cannot shake it nor can I satisfy?
I then realized that I was not made a hopeless romantic by mistake.
I was made, with a Divine purpose, to be the way that I am. There's a reason I wanted to be swept off my feet. There's a reason that a part of me wanted so strongly to believe in love at first (or second) sight. There's a reason I desired to take care of my husband and our kids, and there's a reason I desired nothing else but that.
If I was made any other way, my life would be so very different.
If you've followed my blog any, you know that my Knight finally came, and boy, did he sweep me off my feet! I do believe it was love at second sight (this entry explains), and I fully believe he's the reason I was made to be a hopeless romantic.
I probably chased a rabbit with this entry, and hopefully I didn't lose too many people along the way, but I feel like there are others out there who have this desire and have felt this way as well, and I want to encourage those.
Nothing's wrong with you if college is not screaming your name, and you're not crazy if there's nothing you would rather do than to take care of your man and your kids.
There's a reason, you just have to be patient to find out why.
Now that this 'layer' of mine has been met, it's, of course, altered a little bit. I'm still a hopeless romantic, but just in a different way. I'm very mushy-gushy and I absolutely love it. I am probably the girl you would see walking down the street, being a little too 'into' her man.
I don't really care, though. The rings on my left hand allows me be that way.
I also love the mushy-gushy gifts: the love notes (or texts now-a-days), the flowers, the silly little lovey-dovey things that make people gag. I probably bombard Chris with all of this a little too much (except I don't give him flowers, that would be weird...), but, once again, I don't care. It makes me happy, I know he knows that he's so deeply loved by me, and I haven't received any complaints yet.
Sounds like I need to keep 'em comin'!
Women are definitely like onions. You can't fully judge us by what we allow you to see, because there's so much more underneath that you haven't even begun to discover.
I think what made me love Chris even more was the fact that he wants to know all of the different 'layers' I have, even if some are pretty scary. His admittance to not knowing everything there is about me, but wanting and desiring to uncover as much as he can while it's just the two of us was probably one of the sweetest and most loving things I have ever heard. It's hard to choose to be vulnerable when you don't know what someone's reaction will be, but knowing that there is someone who asks you to be vulnerable so they can know you better than anyone else, and will love you unconditionally even after they discover it all, is an amazing and beautiful thing.
The baby and I met Chris for lunch today, and we had such a great time. I love moments where I can see him during the day. Even though we spend all of our free time together, I just can't get enough of my hot man!
Told ya I was a hopeless romantic :)
After babysitting for so many families, and having dozens of little girls walk into my class at dance, it's safe to say that no two children are alike.
If you have more than one child, or if you have had a group of kids in the same room with you for longer than 5 minutes, you know what I mean.
Especially with the little girls. Every little girl I have encountered is different from the next. And that doesn't change as they get older. In fact, I think it becomes even more evident how different women can be from one another.
Some women are strong, independent, 'no man-no cry' attitude who are very much career driven.
Some women are timid, very shy, non-assertive in social situations who are more than okay with taking the back seat to others who want the spotlight.
Others are funny, the life of the party, hasn't met a stranger before and probably never will. And you can't forget those who are just down-right awkward, but embrace it and love themselves for it.
Not all are this cut-and-dry, though. Probably more women than not are a mixture of two or three of these, plus other characteristics I haven't even begun to talk about yet.
Women are like onions: we have many, many layers.
Now, I cannot sit here and break down every layer of a woman. We will be here for years. But I can talk about a few of my layers, since I know myself better than any other woman out there and can be a little more transparent than just summarizing.
Side note: I think this is why the first year or two of marriage are some of the hardest. Whoever said, 'the first year is the honeymoon year,' got lucky. I have enjoyed every second of being married to Chris, but it's tough! Most of our arguments and disagreements don't stem from Chris, but from me. And it almost always has something to do with a 'layer' of me that Chris either doesn't know well or hasn't discovered.
Anyways, back to our discussion of women being like onions.
Being a woman is so very complex. There's so much to a woman's heart and spirit, that I feel like I discover something new about my own self all of the time. With each new experience, I uncover either more layers about myself, or just how thick and deep some of those layers I already knew about are. Being a woman doesn't come with a handbook, although I (and my husband) wish it did.
Since I was very young, I've been more on the sensitive side. I would cry at the drop of a hat, especially if someone else was crying. Although I've gotten a little more control over it, I still cry all of the time. At least two or three times a day I am wiping tears off of my cheeks.
I've also been a nurturer and desire nurturing in return. I want to take care of everyone, while being taken care of as well. I enjoyed baby dolls growing up, and I think that's what has inspired me to be a nanny. Also, I spent a huge part of my life at home with my mom and sisters, so that nurturing/being nurtured characteristic has come very naturally and has been encouraged for as long as I can remember.
Once I become a teenager and realized boys did not have cooties, I noticed another side of me: the hopeless romantic.
I have never been a career-driven women. There was nothing offered in high school that inspired me to commit 4+ years in college to achieve my goal. I wasn't the little girl who knew she wanted to be a school teacher or a nurse when she grew up. If anything, I wanted to be an actress, but we see how far that dream has gotten me. There was just nothing out there in the world that I wanted to be.
Except a wife and mom.
Instead of pursuing a college degree, I was pursuing a marriage license. I wanted to find the love of my life, take his last name, then make some babies.
All within a year or two of meeting.
I was an unrealistic hopeless romantic.
Once I went through high school without a date, I then figured I'd better figure out what I should do with my life in the meantime. I decided to then enroll at Augusta Tech to pursue an Associate's Degree in Early Childhood Care and Education.
That lasted all of three weeks.
I don't regret dropping out of Augusta Tech, not at all. But part of me does regret that I didn't then enroll at Augusta State University. Even if I didn't finish a degree, I would've at least had a foundation if I ever decided to go back. If I decided to go back in the future, I would have to start from scratch.
But that's okay, though! My life may be somewhere different now if I had.
Once I dropped out, I then had to find a job. That December, I got my first nannying job, watching little Miss Bella. I also became a dance teacher, a doctor's receptionist, a preschool worker at my childhood church, and babysat on the side.
All the while, still single and looking for love. But no luck.
I didn't keep a job for super long, because I wasn't happy. Nothing, with the exception of teaching dance and watching babies, satisfied what my soul desired. I desired love and to be loved. I desired to take care of and be taken care of. I desired a man to sweep me off my feet and carry me off into the sunset.
Many men came, and they all went. Some by their choice, some by mine. Most left on a bad note, a couple scarred me deeper than I ever thought imaginable. None were my Knight in Shining Armor.
At this moment, I realized just how much of a hopeless romantic I was. I always thought there was something wrong with me, though. Why didn't I desire to be a teacher or an accountant? Why were people insisting that I was wasting my intelligence by not attending college, that they were almost disappointed in me that I wasn't enrolled somewhere earning a degree? It just added fuel to the fire that was telling me I was wrong with the direction I allowed my life to go in, but why was I not driven to do and to be what they wanted me to be?
Why do I have this 'layer' of my life that makes up such a huge part of me, but I cannot shake it nor can I satisfy?
I then realized that I was not made a hopeless romantic by mistake.
I was made, with a Divine purpose, to be the way that I am. There's a reason I wanted to be swept off my feet. There's a reason that a part of me wanted so strongly to believe in love at first (or second) sight. There's a reason I desired to take care of my husband and our kids, and there's a reason I desired nothing else but that.
If I was made any other way, my life would be so very different.
If you've followed my blog any, you know that my Knight finally came, and boy, did he sweep me off my feet! I do believe it was love at second sight (this entry explains), and I fully believe he's the reason I was made to be a hopeless romantic.
I probably chased a rabbit with this entry, and hopefully I didn't lose too many people along the way, but I feel like there are others out there who have this desire and have felt this way as well, and I want to encourage those.
Nothing's wrong with you if college is not screaming your name, and you're not crazy if there's nothing you would rather do than to take care of your man and your kids.
There's a reason, you just have to be patient to find out why.
Now that this 'layer' of mine has been met, it's, of course, altered a little bit. I'm still a hopeless romantic, but just in a different way. I'm very mushy-gushy and I absolutely love it. I am probably the girl you would see walking down the street, being a little too 'into' her man.
I don't really care, though. The rings on my left hand allows me be that way.
I also love the mushy-gushy gifts: the love notes (or texts now-a-days), the flowers, the silly little lovey-dovey things that make people gag. I probably bombard Chris with all of this a little too much (except I don't give him flowers, that would be weird...), but, once again, I don't care. It makes me happy, I know he knows that he's so deeply loved by me, and I haven't received any complaints yet.
Sounds like I need to keep 'em comin'!
Women are definitely like onions. You can't fully judge us by what we allow you to see, because there's so much more underneath that you haven't even begun to discover.
I think what made me love Chris even more was the fact that he wants to know all of the different 'layers' I have, even if some are pretty scary. His admittance to not knowing everything there is about me, but wanting and desiring to uncover as much as he can while it's just the two of us was probably one of the sweetest and most loving things I have ever heard. It's hard to choose to be vulnerable when you don't know what someone's reaction will be, but knowing that there is someone who asks you to be vulnerable so they can know you better than anyone else, and will love you unconditionally even after they discover it all, is an amazing and beautiful thing.
The baby and I met Chris for lunch today, and we had such a great time. I love moments where I can see him during the day. Even though we spend all of our free time together, I just can't get enough of my hot man!
Told ya I was a hopeless romantic :)
Tuesday, October 8, 2013
Pinterest: The Diary of a Woman
Before I start talking about Pinterest, which is one of my favorite topics ever, let me tell you about the dinner I cooked last night.
Of course, I found it on Pinterest (what are cookbooks anymore?). It's called Chicken Broccoli Casserole and it's fabulous! Not exactly the healthiest dish in the world, especially since it calls for two whole cans of condensed cream of chicken soup, but it's worth every calorie. I used Ritz crackers instead of bread crumbs, just because I think it adds more flavor. So good!
Anyways, back to the original topic.
I love me some Pinterest. I have 60 boards and 6,012 pins, as of 9:14am on Tuesday, October 8th, 2013. I'm sure that'll change by the end of the day. I have a slight problem with spending more time looking at pins than I do at housework. It's just so addicting! Here's some e-cards that describe it perfectly:
But seriously, these are so true. 60 boards with over 6,000 pins is a little insane. I can't even tell you all of the pins that I have! But I can tell you that they will come in handy and be used one of these days (I feel like those are famous words of hoarders). I'm not even sure I can have a conversation with Chris without bringing up something I saw or read on Pinterest, and I definitely would not be surprised if the mastermind behind all of these pins and boards and insanity of Pinterest is a man who wanted to inspire his wife to make him a fancy grilled cheese sandwich.
If you're not exactly sure what Pinterest is, it is a social website that allows you to 'pin' different pictures that link to websites onto designated 'boards' on your account. For instance, I will see on my news feed a picture of an Oreo that has the caption, 'World's Best Oreo Dessert!', which intrigues me to pin it to my board labeled 'Desserts.' I can then refer back to it when I'm ready to try it out. I simply just click the picture, which takes me to the website that contains the recipe, and I start cooking away. Hopefully that makes sense on how it works!
Pinterest has inspired me to cook, to decorate, to work out, to plan dates, to go shopping, and it inspired my wedding! My life was completely altered when I got the invite to join a world full of ridiculous-ness.
When it comes down to it, Pinterest is the diary of a woman. A way to a man's heart is through his stomach. A way to a woman's heart is through her Pinterest account. But seriously, it really is. Now, I understand not every woman has an account, and if she does, she may not have an overload of pins like I have. But if she happens to, you will know what she wants, what she finds funny, what she finds inspirational, how she wants to decorate the house (or how she wants to build a house!), what she thinks is tasty, absolutely EVERYTHING about a woman is on her boards.
I don't think men know what they have here!
Even if she has minimal boards with minimal pins, she has something that describes her or what she wants. If it's a board about food, you can see what she finds yummy. If it's clothes, you know what she would like to be in her wardrobe. If it's wedding things, you know she wants to get married. Fairly simple and self-explanatory!
If there is anything you want to know about the woman in your life, explore her Pinterest boards and see what has caught her eye. You'll probably be amazed, and hopefully you'll discover the goldmine that you have! You really won't have to think too hard about anything, ever. If it's a date idea you're searching for, I'm sure she has something pinned on there. Want to cook her a meal? She'll have some recipes you can choose from. Need an idea on how to propose? Don't worry, she'll have a couple for you to look over. If you desire to know what inspires her or what her personality is like, I bet she has something for that too.
If you need it, she will probably have it. On her Pinterest.
I really hope Pinterest doesn't disappear any time soon. I feel like my life is on my profile, and I would be so lost if something happened to it. I'm not even sure I can raise my kids without it!
Okay, I know I can raise my kids without the help of Pinterest. But, let's be honest, if you've checked out the baby/children stuff lately, you'll agree with me that it's a lot more awesome than using my brain and intuition alone. For instance, I don't need 21 Things No One Ever Tells You Before Your First Baby right now, but I will definitely need it sometime in the maybe-near future! My mind can't come up with these since I have never had a child, but Pinterest has it taken care of it for me, and I am very grateful for that and hope it doesn't go away before I need it!
All-in-all, Pinterest is awesome. It's my life displayed on a bunch of boards. It's my past, my present, and my future all wrapped up in websites and pictures I find to describe who I am and what I want to be. And how I want to decorate. And what I want to cook. And how I want to look when going out. And what my babies will wear when they eventually make their debut in this world. And everything else my life includes.
My husband really does have a jackpot with this one, and he probably has no clue. Until now! Oh, how fortunate men are that women have discovered Pinterest. They'll be glad we became addicted to it.
One day.
Of course, I found it on Pinterest (what are cookbooks anymore?). It's called Chicken Broccoli Casserole and it's fabulous! Not exactly the healthiest dish in the world, especially since it calls for two whole cans of condensed cream of chicken soup, but it's worth every calorie. I used Ritz crackers instead of bread crumbs, just because I think it adds more flavor. So good!
Anyways, back to the original topic.
I love me some Pinterest. I have 60 boards and 6,012 pins, as of 9:14am on Tuesday, October 8th, 2013. I'm sure that'll change by the end of the day. I have a slight problem with spending more time looking at pins than I do at housework. It's just so addicting! Here's some e-cards that describe it perfectly:
But seriously, these are so true. 60 boards with over 6,000 pins is a little insane. I can't even tell you all of the pins that I have! But I can tell you that they will come in handy and be used one of these days (I feel like those are famous words of hoarders). I'm not even sure I can have a conversation with Chris without bringing up something I saw or read on Pinterest, and I definitely would not be surprised if the mastermind behind all of these pins and boards and insanity of Pinterest is a man who wanted to inspire his wife to make him a fancy grilled cheese sandwich.
If you're not exactly sure what Pinterest is, it is a social website that allows you to 'pin' different pictures that link to websites onto designated 'boards' on your account. For instance, I will see on my news feed a picture of an Oreo that has the caption, 'World's Best Oreo Dessert!', which intrigues me to pin it to my board labeled 'Desserts.' I can then refer back to it when I'm ready to try it out. I simply just click the picture, which takes me to the website that contains the recipe, and I start cooking away. Hopefully that makes sense on how it works!
Pinterest has inspired me to cook, to decorate, to work out, to plan dates, to go shopping, and it inspired my wedding! My life was completely altered when I got the invite to join a world full of ridiculous-ness.
When it comes down to it, Pinterest is the diary of a woman. A way to a man's heart is through his stomach. A way to a woman's heart is through her Pinterest account. But seriously, it really is. Now, I understand not every woman has an account, and if she does, she may not have an overload of pins like I have. But if she happens to, you will know what she wants, what she finds funny, what she finds inspirational, how she wants to decorate the house (or how she wants to build a house!), what she thinks is tasty, absolutely EVERYTHING about a woman is on her boards.
I don't think men know what they have here!
Even if she has minimal boards with minimal pins, she has something that describes her or what she wants. If it's a board about food, you can see what she finds yummy. If it's clothes, you know what she would like to be in her wardrobe. If it's wedding things, you know she wants to get married. Fairly simple and self-explanatory!
If there is anything you want to know about the woman in your life, explore her Pinterest boards and see what has caught her eye. You'll probably be amazed, and hopefully you'll discover the goldmine that you have! You really won't have to think too hard about anything, ever. If it's a date idea you're searching for, I'm sure she has something pinned on there. Want to cook her a meal? She'll have some recipes you can choose from. Need an idea on how to propose? Don't worry, she'll have a couple for you to look over. If you desire to know what inspires her or what her personality is like, I bet she has something for that too.
If you need it, she will probably have it. On her Pinterest.
I really hope Pinterest doesn't disappear any time soon. I feel like my life is on my profile, and I would be so lost if something happened to it. I'm not even sure I can raise my kids without it!
Okay, I know I can raise my kids without the help of Pinterest. But, let's be honest, if you've checked out the baby/children stuff lately, you'll agree with me that it's a lot more awesome than using my brain and intuition alone. For instance, I don't need 21 Things No One Ever Tells You Before Your First Baby right now, but I will definitely need it sometime in the maybe-near future! My mind can't come up with these since I have never had a child, but Pinterest has it taken care of it for me, and I am very grateful for that and hope it doesn't go away before I need it!
All-in-all, Pinterest is awesome. It's my life displayed on a bunch of boards. It's my past, my present, and my future all wrapped up in websites and pictures I find to describe who I am and what I want to be. And how I want to decorate. And what I want to cook. And how I want to look when going out. And what my babies will wear when they eventually make their debut in this world. And everything else my life includes.
My husband really does have a jackpot with this one, and he probably has no clue. Until now! Oh, how fortunate men are that women have discovered Pinterest. They'll be glad we became addicted to it.
One day.
Tuesday, October 1, 2013
Lessons From the Stand-In Mom (part one)
After a few years of nannying, I have learned quite a bit about children and raising them. At least I feel like I have.
I am not claiming that I am the know-it-all woman who can raise kids to act like the final result of a Super Nanny episode. Being a mother and being a nanny are not the same. I fully believe carrying a child for 9-10 months, then pushing them out or have them cut out of your uterus gives you a lot more qualification of choosing how to raise your child than someone whom you pay every day to make sure your child has clean pants and a full belly. But you don't spend 40+ hours a week with a baby without picking up a few things on how to be a mom and how to raise children.
I honestly cannot put in this blog everything I have learned from nannying/babysitting, but I have decided to do a two-part entry on the 5 biggest lessons I've learned. I am dedicating this small series as:
*WHAT I'VE LEARNED WHILE ACTING LIKE A MOM*
Let's be honest, that is what a nanny/babysitter does. I am the stand-in mom while she is out and about, except I get to go home at night without a screaming child.
Here's the top 5 'serious' lessons I've learned, in no particular order:
1ST LESSON: A CHILD NEEDS LIMITATIONS
Giving a child the ability to call the shots will do that child no good in the future. The older I get, the more I want to give my future children absolutely everything I can give them. But I understand that I can't. What purpose does it serve to give my child everything they ask for, and then allow them to disrespect me when they don't? What do they learn? They learn that if they desire something, they should get it. They don't have to work for it, they don't have to earn it, they don't have to experience disappointment of being told no without throwing an attitude. They get what they want, and that's that.
Please, do our society a favor, and teach your child that life does not revolve around them.
2ND LESSON: DON'T BE YOUR CHILD'S DICTATOR
Like I said before, a child NEEDS limitations. But there is a line that shouldn't be crossed. Your child doesn't always need to hear no.
I have kept for a family where I felt like all I said was no. That's the way the family wanted it. There were SO many limitations on this little kid, I felt awful. NO to watching his favorite show, NO to playing in this room, NO to eating this, NO to having more milk, NO to going anywhere other than the park, NO to listening to this music. Everything was NO.
I have come to understand that there are two responses to this that a child will give:
1.) Resents the parents and idolizes everything they are told NO about, or
2.) Rebels.
Unfortunately, I feel the rebellion is more common than the resenting, although neither one is a good scenario. It's just not worth it in the long run. At least I feel it isn't.
3RD LESSON: NEVER COMPARE
If you have children, or you have babysat for multiple families, you are quick to understand that there are no two children alike. Even in the same family. They may be very similar, but they still have their differences. Not sure what the difference might be? Watch their reaction to you taking away a toy or turning off the TV. But be prepared for what their reacting might be...
Once you know that no two children are the same, you have to apply it to all aspects of a child's life: growth, milestones they achieve, attitude towards situations, responses they give, intelligence, etc.
When you always compare your child to others, especially if they are close in age, either you will place your child on a pedestal or feel your child does not measure up to others.
Neither of these are good, because they lead to destructive attitudes for your child: an attitude of entitlement, or an attitude of never measuring up. Both are destructive to your child.
4TH LESSON: BE A PARENT, BUT BE THEIR BEST FRIEND
I've heard my parents say over and over, 'You cannot be your child's best friend, you have to be their parent.'
Whereas I believe that parenting comes way before friendship, you have to have a friendship with your child. You also can't just be the parent and raise children. You have to let your child know that you are also their friend. Not only their friend, but their best friend.
I want my children to know that, first and foremost, I am their mom and Chris is their dad. We were given the task by God to raise them to be God-fearing, discerning, caring, intelligent, courageous, very much loved young adults that will one day be on their own and be participants in society. We will not take that task lightly and jeopardize their futures by us slacking off in their up-bringing. But I also want them to know that we want them to run with us with their problems. I want our children to understand that our love is unconditional, my ear is always available to listen, my shoulder is always there to cry on, my advice is always ready to be given, and my phone is always in hand if I need to call someone else's mama.
I don't want my children to run to their friends with their problems, I want it to be me. I want to be their best friend, no matter what is going on. I, of course, understand that there will be things that my kids will not want to discuss with Chris and I. I was a kid once, I haven't forgotten about those topics that you're quite alright without bringing up to the parents. But I don't want them to feel that anything they did or need is too big or too small to talk to me about or ask me about, or that I will fly off my rocker anytime they mess up. I know I won't be the perfect parent/friend that I desire to be, but I want to strive to be as close to it as possible.
5TH LESSON: IT IS NEVER TOO EARLY FOR A CHILD TO UNDERSTAND GOD
I don't remember a time where I didn't know what God, Jesus, The Bible, and church were. There had to be a time where I was ignorant since we are not born with this knowledge, but I must have been very young.
I have worked with kids outside of nannying and babysitting at local churches and programs. Sometimes the greatest wisdom I hear comes from the mouth of a child. There's something about being a child who has heard about The Lord in-depth (well, as in-depth as you can go with a child) that gives them wisdom beyond their years. I also feel that it, along with continued nurturing, gives them a yearning and a desire to deepen their faith as they get older. It goes beyond the 'My First Bible' and the "Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep' prayer, but with conversations they have with their parents and listening to them pray. It is the parents taking an incredible interest in their children knowing more than just the song, 'Jesus Loves Me.'
I want my children to understand that Mommy and Daddy's marriage is not perfect, just as life isn't perfect, but that The Lord is perfect, and that is where our trust and our example should be. I want them to know that The Lord listens to every word they say, He never walks away, and His plan for them is perfect. I don't think our children have to be a certain age before we talk to them about their personal relationship with God.
I don't want my children to remember a time when God was not a part of their lives, and I don't want mine and Chris's lives to give them a reason to think otherwise.
***
I know all of these lessons are much easier to write out than they are to put them into action, especially coming from someone who's life has not been turned upside-down by a baby. And I'm sure someone out there is reading this and thinking, 'Just wait until you have a screaming 3 year old in Wal-Mart with all eyes staring at you, all because your child wants dog food for the Chihuahua we don't own. You'll change your tune.' You're right, I might. Doesn't mean I won't try to stick by my guns and practice what I preach. And it doesn't mean this is what I strive to be like when I become a parent.
After thinking about and writing all of my thoughts down on how to raise children, I am definitely okay with waiting to introduce a little one into this world. Although the hair bows and the bow ties are super adorable and the cute monogrammed outfits are close to irresistible, taking on the responsibility of bringing up a little boy or little girl right now is just not something Chris and I are ready to tackle.
Yet.
I am not claiming that I am the know-it-all woman who can raise kids to act like the final result of a Super Nanny episode. Being a mother and being a nanny are not the same. I fully believe carrying a child for 9-10 months, then pushing them out or have them cut out of your uterus gives you a lot more qualification of choosing how to raise your child than someone whom you pay every day to make sure your child has clean pants and a full belly. But you don't spend 40+ hours a week with a baby without picking up a few things on how to be a mom and how to raise children.
I honestly cannot put in this blog everything I have learned from nannying/babysitting, but I have decided to do a two-part entry on the 5 biggest lessons I've learned. I am dedicating this small series as:
*WHAT I'VE LEARNED WHILE ACTING LIKE A MOM*
Let's be honest, that is what a nanny/babysitter does. I am the stand-in mom while she is out and about, except I get to go home at night without a screaming child.
Here's the top 5 'serious' lessons I've learned, in no particular order:
1ST LESSON: A CHILD NEEDS LIMITATIONS
Giving a child the ability to call the shots will do that child no good in the future. The older I get, the more I want to give my future children absolutely everything I can give them. But I understand that I can't. What purpose does it serve to give my child everything they ask for, and then allow them to disrespect me when they don't? What do they learn? They learn that if they desire something, they should get it. They don't have to work for it, they don't have to earn it, they don't have to experience disappointment of being told no without throwing an attitude. They get what they want, and that's that.
Please, do our society a favor, and teach your child that life does not revolve around them.
2ND LESSON: DON'T BE YOUR CHILD'S DICTATOR
Like I said before, a child NEEDS limitations. But there is a line that shouldn't be crossed. Your child doesn't always need to hear no.
I have kept for a family where I felt like all I said was no. That's the way the family wanted it. There were SO many limitations on this little kid, I felt awful. NO to watching his favorite show, NO to playing in this room, NO to eating this, NO to having more milk, NO to going anywhere other than the park, NO to listening to this music. Everything was NO.
I have come to understand that there are two responses to this that a child will give:
1.) Resents the parents and idolizes everything they are told NO about, or
2.) Rebels.
Unfortunately, I feel the rebellion is more common than the resenting, although neither one is a good scenario. It's just not worth it in the long run. At least I feel it isn't.
3RD LESSON: NEVER COMPARE
If you have children, or you have babysat for multiple families, you are quick to understand that there are no two children alike. Even in the same family. They may be very similar, but they still have their differences. Not sure what the difference might be? Watch their reaction to you taking away a toy or turning off the TV. But be prepared for what their reacting might be...
Once you know that no two children are the same, you have to apply it to all aspects of a child's life: growth, milestones they achieve, attitude towards situations, responses they give, intelligence, etc.
When you always compare your child to others, especially if they are close in age, either you will place your child on a pedestal or feel your child does not measure up to others.
Neither of these are good, because they lead to destructive attitudes for your child: an attitude of entitlement, or an attitude of never measuring up. Both are destructive to your child.
4TH LESSON: BE A PARENT, BUT BE THEIR BEST FRIEND
I've heard my parents say over and over, 'You cannot be your child's best friend, you have to be their parent.'
Whereas I believe that parenting comes way before friendship, you have to have a friendship with your child. You also can't just be the parent and raise children. You have to let your child know that you are also their friend. Not only their friend, but their best friend.
I want my children to know that, first and foremost, I am their mom and Chris is their dad. We were given the task by God to raise them to be God-fearing, discerning, caring, intelligent, courageous, very much loved young adults that will one day be on their own and be participants in society. We will not take that task lightly and jeopardize their futures by us slacking off in their up-bringing. But I also want them to know that we want them to run with us with their problems. I want our children to understand that our love is unconditional, my ear is always available to listen, my shoulder is always there to cry on, my advice is always ready to be given, and my phone is always in hand if I need to call someone else's mama.
I don't want my children to run to their friends with their problems, I want it to be me. I want to be their best friend, no matter what is going on. I, of course, understand that there will be things that my kids will not want to discuss with Chris and I. I was a kid once, I haven't forgotten about those topics that you're quite alright without bringing up to the parents. But I don't want them to feel that anything they did or need is too big or too small to talk to me about or ask me about, or that I will fly off my rocker anytime they mess up. I know I won't be the perfect parent/friend that I desire to be, but I want to strive to be as close to it as possible.
5TH LESSON: IT IS NEVER TOO EARLY FOR A CHILD TO UNDERSTAND GOD
I don't remember a time where I didn't know what God, Jesus, The Bible, and church were. There had to be a time where I was ignorant since we are not born with this knowledge, but I must have been very young.
I have worked with kids outside of nannying and babysitting at local churches and programs. Sometimes the greatest wisdom I hear comes from the mouth of a child. There's something about being a child who has heard about The Lord in-depth (well, as in-depth as you can go with a child) that gives them wisdom beyond their years. I also feel that it, along with continued nurturing, gives them a yearning and a desire to deepen their faith as they get older. It goes beyond the 'My First Bible' and the "Now I Lay Me Down to Sleep' prayer, but with conversations they have with their parents and listening to them pray. It is the parents taking an incredible interest in their children knowing more than just the song, 'Jesus Loves Me.'
I want my children to understand that Mommy and Daddy's marriage is not perfect, just as life isn't perfect, but that The Lord is perfect, and that is where our trust and our example should be. I want them to know that The Lord listens to every word they say, He never walks away, and His plan for them is perfect. I don't think our children have to be a certain age before we talk to them about their personal relationship with God.
I don't want my children to remember a time when God was not a part of their lives, and I don't want mine and Chris's lives to give them a reason to think otherwise.
***
I know all of these lessons are much easier to write out than they are to put them into action, especially coming from someone who's life has not been turned upside-down by a baby. And I'm sure someone out there is reading this and thinking, 'Just wait until you have a screaming 3 year old in Wal-Mart with all eyes staring at you, all because your child wants dog food for the Chihuahua we don't own. You'll change your tune.' You're right, I might. Doesn't mean I won't try to stick by my guns and practice what I preach. And it doesn't mean this is what I strive to be like when I become a parent.
After thinking about and writing all of my thoughts down on how to raise children, I am definitely okay with waiting to introduce a little one into this world. Although the hair bows and the bow ties are super adorable and the cute monogrammed outfits are close to irresistible, taking on the responsibility of bringing up a little boy or little girl right now is just not something Chris and I are ready to tackle.
Yet.
Friday, September 27, 2013
Just a Small Town School
 |
| Harlem High School Baccalaureate 2007 |
I graduated from a small town school. Everyone knows everyone, and, unless you moved in randomly, you're probably related to one or five people there.
But seriously. Everyone knows everyone.
When I was in school, there were four high schools in our county. Rumors had it that Harlem was about 50/50 with ethnicity percentage, and 100% redneck. We were also the school that, when you told someone you were a student there, they always apologized and had pity on me.
We were the ugly red-headed step-child of Columbia County.
I say we were, but in some ways, we still are.
When I graduated, we had about 1200 students enrolled. My graduated class had about 250 seniors in it (give or take a few, it's been too long I can't remember), and we were in class AAA for the GHSA sanctions. We were, and still are, the smallest school in the county. Financial support was pretty much relied on our teachers and coaches holding fundraisers, because we were also the poorest school. I'm not saying that we were poor! But I am saying that's how well endowed the other three schools were. Especially one that will remain un-named (does anyone hear any howling?).
If it wasn't bad enough, we also never scored very well on any testing.
Since I have graduated, another school was built in the county that affected Harlem greatly. It took a huge chunk out of our school and replaced it with some from the more rich and elite school of the county. The enrollment went from around 1200 to about 800 or less, which then dropped us to AA. When the re-zoning was taking place, a lot of people refused to go to Harlem. They moved, they pulled strings, they put down other relatives' addresses, anything they could do to not go to Harlem. There were even protests. Many left Harlem and went to the new school, even though they were not a part of the re-zoning. Someone from the more elite school even questioned a dad to see if he was really serious about sending his child to 'that' school. She mentioned it to the wrong person, because he was a graduate of Harlem High.
Needless to say, we weren't very well liked around here. All of our support had to come from those within the school and our wonderful Board of Education representative, because we weren't getting much more from the rest of the county.
I don't understand why, but people hated us.
So, there's the negative, not-so-awesome parts of being a graduate of a small town school. Here's the reasons I wouldn't trade my Harlem Bulldog pride for anything else.
Like I said, I graduated with around 250 other seniors. I knew every person that walked across the stage with me, or at least I knew of them. The majority of them were in at least one of my classes throughout my high school career, and the rest I knew from lunch, from sporting events, or through other friends. I feel like there's not many schools, at least in this county, that can say that.
Every single teacher I had cared about me and my education. Even teachers that I never had, they still cared. It's not easy to teach at Harlem, but I think that's what makes the teachers there so incredible.
After the re-zoning, our test scores improved greatly. In fact, if I am not mistaken, in at least one subject we were the highest in the county. Either way, test scores improved by a great deal.
After the re-zoning, it affected our sports greatly, especially football. We went two seasons with only two wins total. People kept saying that it was the coaching, they should be fired, and if 'so and so' coached instead, we would have winning seasons. If you know me at all, you know my daddy coaches football at Harlem, so hearing these things were very hurtful. Especially since some came from so-called 'friends of the family.'
This season, we are 4-0. And not just scraping-by 4-0. It's stomping-the-other-team-to-the-ground 4-0. I have never seen so much pride in the little town of Harlem like I have now. Everyone is SO excited for our team. They played Social Circle last week and won 38-6. Once they got back in the town of Harlem, they had a police escort to the high school. At the high school, there were parents and fans awaiting their arrival with horns and shouts to welcome them home.
I'm tearing up as I write this.
I have been there for the days when people had nothing but awful things to say about a school that has played such a huge part in my life. After all, my dad has been at Harlem since 1981, so I had no choice but to love Harlem Dogs like I love my UGA Dawgs. I have heard the 'I'm sorry you're at Harlem,' 'I could never go to Harlem,' 'It's not as hard to get good grades at Harlem than it is at the other schools,' and 'The coaches should be fired because they do not care about winning here at Harlem.' By the way, there is a man at Harlem that is still trying to get the coaches fired, even though they're winning. I have had to stand by my dad, my mom, and my sisters while people trash talk us. I have seen the front page covers of The Augusta Chronicle and the Columbia News Times when Harlem has lost by a great number, and I've read the small, barely-there columns when we have actually done well. I've noticed the other schools in the county getting more publicity, just because they are somehow the 'pride' of Columbia County. And I'm not just talking about football! Ask our softball parents, they'll tell you too.
But I was there for the first time Harlem entered the football playoffs in who knows how many years. I was there when Harlem beat Evans High on their own turf the first time we played them in years, and we charged the field and celebrated while the Evans fans we stunned in their bleachers. I was there when Harlem baseball won the region at Cross Creek in 2008, something that we had gotten close but just couldn't achieve in a long time. I was there when we won our first football game in two years on our homecoming, and seeing the coaches faces and knowing that the struggles were finally paying off. And now I'm here to witness this small town school finally get some pride back, and finally get some well-deserved attention.
We may be the red-headed step-child of Columbia County, but I would never trade in my red and black for black and gold, maroon and silver, and not for green and yellow.
I could not be more proud of the school that I have the honor and privilege of calling my alma-mater, and I could not be more happy for this small town phoenix that is finally rising from the ashes of disrespect and defeat.
I hope this school spirit never fades, but that we can continue it on, no matter what I winning record might be.
Gosh, I can't believe I cried actual tears while writing this.
I'm hoping Chris and I will go to the game tonight and watch our Dogs go 5-0, and I cannot wait to dress our little ones up in the future and hear them shout, 'Go Dogs!'
Let that victory bell ring loud tonight, Dogs! We. Are. Harlem!
Thursday, September 26, 2013
5 Love Languages
| The 5 Love Languages by Gary Chapman |
But seriously, go get it today. Right now, if you can. It's that good.
Before Chris and I got married, I had heard so many wonderful things about The 5 Love Languages and how it can transform your relationship/marriage with your partner. Me, being the 'I don't want to be left out' kind of girl, I went to our local Lifeway Christian Bookstore and bought a copy. I decided to read it before Chris, and it was something that I had a hard time putting down. It's amazing how well Gary Chapman captures each love language and describes it in a way that you understand and say to yourself, 'that's why I/Chris have/has been acting that way!'
If you are not familiar with the book, Chapman takes 5 ways of showing love that we all desire:
1.) Words of Affirmation
2.) Acts of Service
3.) Receiving Gifts
4.) Quality Time
5.) Physical Touch
He describes what each love language means and examples of why this action shows us strong love. At the end of the book, you take a short quiz to see which love language appeals to you more and places them in order from strongest to weakest.
He also talks about a 'love bank' that we all have, in which every action either deposits or withdrawals love.
After Chris and I both read it, we shared our love languages with each other. Mine were Quality Time first, Physical Touch second. Chris's were Physical Touch, then Quality Time.
I felt like we were pretty spot-on with that outcome. I knew mine would be quality time, and I was 99.9% sure Chris's would be physical touch.
It's been about 4 months or so since we've read it, and I feel that my love language has changed a bit. Especially since I'm finally settling into the wife role.
As you can tell from the name of my blog, I am a wife, a nanny, and a dance teacher. It's a fairly full plate.
I don't handle full plates very well. At all. Just ask my poor husband, who gets to hear how I don't handle full plates well on a regular basis.
It's not the I don't love what I do! I absolutely love being a nanny and being a dance teacher, and I have been preparing myself to be a wife since I was in middle school. But adding the three together and then throwing in a dirty house just isn't always the greatest combination. At least for me, it's not.
I have found that quality time with Chris is definitely the greatest way I feel love. Last night, we grabbed some Wing Stop, sat in our living room with the TV off, and enjoyed a meal together without hearing Big Bang Theory in the background. And, of course, I love holding his hand and cuddling with him. If you're married, I'm sure you know other ways we use physical touch to show love, but I have kids that read this blog, so we'll just leave it at that.
But lately, the other three love languages have been creeping up and screaming, 'we need to be shown love too!'
The big one is Acts of Service. It has appeared like a huge defensive lineman trying to make his presence known by sacking me, and then burying me into the ground.
Okay. So maybe that was a stupid analogy. But you get the point.
Our largest fight as husband and wife came because of this language. I don't even know why I started feeling this way all of a sudden, but it made it's point that it was not going anywhere until it was met.
So what's the point of telling this long and drawn-out story? I'm getting to it, I promise.
Although The 5 Love Languages book makes one very aware of the different ways love should be met and the two that need to be met more than the others, you can't deny the ones that came in 3rd, 4th, and 5th, or they will remind you that they have been neglected for far too long.
Why should you read this book? If you're married or in a relationship, it is an eye-opener on how to love your spouse/partner even better and in ways that they desire. If you're single, it reveals how you will feel love the strongest and to become aware of how to love others. Not only can you apply this to romantic relationships, but it also works with relationships with loved ones and even friends.
To sum it up, it helps you to love others better and stronger, while understanding what fills up your 'love bank.'
Chris and I talked about it last night, and we decided that vacuuming the house and doing the dishes were no longer on my list of things to do, that he will be taking those things over until I am able to become a homemaker. It's amazing how giving up vacuuming and dishes lifted so much stress off of my shoulders, and made me fall even more in love with my husband.
Did I mention that Chris also gave me money to go shopping?
Yep, my love bank is quite full. Now time to plan on how to return the favor... ;)
Friday, September 20, 2013
Oh the Joys of Womanhood
I love being a girl.
No, seriously. I absolutely love it.
Growing up, the only kids I hung out with were boys. If you know me fairly well, you will know that I have three little sisters who are 18, 15, and 12. I am 24. Doing the math, that puts me six years, nine and a half years, and 12 years older than them. That's quite a distance! So, until they became the age of being fun, I played with my two cousins. They lived next door, and they were only a year and a half older and ten months younger, so we had much more in common and much more fun together than my sisters and I did.
As you can probably imagine, I was a little bit of a tomboy back then. I loved bugs, snakes, baseball, hunting, fishing, and pretty much anything else a boy would enjoy. I still had dolls, a kitchenette, frilly dresses and Mary Jane shoes, and I enjoyed them very much, but I was perfectly happy swinging a bat in my cousins' front yard or slapping a puck in their garage.
Then puberty hit.
Instead of getting down and dirty, I was putting on makeup and trying to fix my hair. The bugs and the snakes were no longer awesome, but they were gross and needed to disappear from the face of the earth. I still enjoyed swinging a bat and being the water girl for the local high school (my dad was a coach), but I wanted to do it while trying to gain the attention of the cute guys.
I prefer this girly-ness much more than being a tomboy.
Until I get fat.
Being a woman causes this up-and-down crazy train of weight gain to magically appear when it is the least convenient.
One day, your pants fit and your tummy looks flat in a white shirt. The next day, you have an 18-wheeler-worthy spare tire around your mid section that not even a girdle made of titanium could hold it all in.
Okay, that may be a slight exaggeration, but if you're a woman, you get where I'm coming from.
I am having a spare tire kind of week. Even wearing a black shirt with a ruffle-like design on the front can't hide this bulge I've got going on. It's just down-right depressing.
So what's the logical thing to do when I feel fat and get depressed?
Eat more.
I just can't help it. I love eating just about as much as I love being a girl. And not so much of the healthy stuff, but the processed, full of calories, little morsels of goodness (as you can tell in my Big Macs and Cracker Stackers entry). I do enjoy a good fruit smoothie or a veggie platter, but, let's be honest, drive-thru junk food are just so much easier. And sometimes cheaper.
So, to sum up how I'm feeling this week: I'm much fatter than normal, but I still want some potato chips. And pizza. And a large coke. Then go work out for 15 minutes to make me feel a little better.
Oh, the joys of being a woman.
No, seriously. I absolutely love it.
Growing up, the only kids I hung out with were boys. If you know me fairly well, you will know that I have three little sisters who are 18, 15, and 12. I am 24. Doing the math, that puts me six years, nine and a half years, and 12 years older than them. That's quite a distance! So, until they became the age of being fun, I played with my two cousins. They lived next door, and they were only a year and a half older and ten months younger, so we had much more in common and much more fun together than my sisters and I did.
As you can probably imagine, I was a little bit of a tomboy back then. I loved bugs, snakes, baseball, hunting, fishing, and pretty much anything else a boy would enjoy. I still had dolls, a kitchenette, frilly dresses and Mary Jane shoes, and I enjoyed them very much, but I was perfectly happy swinging a bat in my cousins' front yard or slapping a puck in their garage.
Then puberty hit.
Instead of getting down and dirty, I was putting on makeup and trying to fix my hair. The bugs and the snakes were no longer awesome, but they were gross and needed to disappear from the face of the earth. I still enjoyed swinging a bat and being the water girl for the local high school (my dad was a coach), but I wanted to do it while trying to gain the attention of the cute guys.
I prefer this girly-ness much more than being a tomboy.
Until I get fat.
Being a woman causes this up-and-down crazy train of weight gain to magically appear when it is the least convenient.
One day, your pants fit and your tummy looks flat in a white shirt. The next day, you have an 18-wheeler-worthy spare tire around your mid section that not even a girdle made of titanium could hold it all in.
Okay, that may be a slight exaggeration, but if you're a woman, you get where I'm coming from.
I am having a spare tire kind of week. Even wearing a black shirt with a ruffle-like design on the front can't hide this bulge I've got going on. It's just down-right depressing.
So what's the logical thing to do when I feel fat and get depressed?
Eat more.
I just can't help it. I love eating just about as much as I love being a girl. And not so much of the healthy stuff, but the processed, full of calories, little morsels of goodness (as you can tell in my Big Macs and Cracker Stackers entry). I do enjoy a good fruit smoothie or a veggie platter, but, let's be honest, drive-thru junk food are just so much easier. And sometimes cheaper.
So, to sum up how I'm feeling this week: I'm much fatter than normal, but I still want some potato chips. And pizza. And a large coke. Then go work out for 15 minutes to make me feel a little better.
Oh, the joys of being a woman.
Thursday, September 19, 2013
A Piece of Advice
I thought you'd might be interested to know that I got McDonald's yesterday! Unfortunately, I had taken out some ground beef because I had intended to cook last night (Hamburger Helper is staple in our pantry), and I forgot to put it back in to the fridge before we went to bed. I woke up at 5:30 this morning with a slight panic, because I had just realized what I had done, but it was too late.
Still not sure how I remembered at 5:30am while dead asleep.
Needless to say, the ground beef is now in the trash can. It is very sad, because ground beef is a precious thing in our house since we use it so much, but we must move on.
So I guess we will be eating chicken tonight. Unless my husband decides to take me out... ;)
*****************************************************************
Chris and I volunteer at a local church in the children's ministry. I used to work there last year (which is the hardest but the most rewarding job I have ever had!), but I have been involved as a volunteer for quite a few years now. I'm so excited that this Sunday we will officially join and call it our church home, especially since we have been in this 'church-limbo' for so long. Floating between churches, even if they we either mine or his childhood church, just didn't feel like our own. Finally, we have 'our' church. I'm just beyond excited about this!!
Chris helps with the tech part of the Wednesday night program and I help with the worship. I love getting there early so I can have some time to talk to this amazing group of women that are so real and so encouraging, you just can't help but want to be around them. At least I can't.
One of the women, whom Chris and I are close to her and her family, told me one of the best pieces of advice, which I have heard before, but she just put it into a whole different perspective.
'Don't talk bad about your husband to anyone, no matter what. While you will wake up the next day and may forget that anything was wrong, the person you gossiped to about your husband will not forget so easily and may change their opinion about him.'
Wow. Just... Wow.
I have heard this advice before in other books and different blogs, but I have never heard it like this. I know you want to take opportunities to build your husband up, whether or not he hears it. But to think that what you say could stain his reputation to someone? That's very strong and so convicting.
Now I'm not saying I go and gossip about my husband and de-grade him to anyone by any means! I love my husband very much and couldn't imagine life without him by my side. But he's not perfect. I'm not perfect. And when things are not perfect, we like to share with others why they are not perfect.
I admit, I may have vented a little about how hard it is to understand Chris and the way he thinks. And I may have shared that we have had a couple of fights recently. There's a possibility that I have stated that I just don't always know what to do to help him understand the way I feel as well. But I'm a woman, that's what I do!
But not anymore. Well, I'm going to try to not do it anymore.
I am all for confiding in someone who knows you and your spouse very well about your hardships and seeking wisdom and advice, but just venting about it to whoever will listen is gossip and it's destructive. My husband is too valuable to me to do that. He means too much to me to risk his respect just for me to get my feelings out.
After this piece of advice was given to me, I started re-evaluating my relationship with Chris. I cannot promise you that, even after my revelation, I have been the wife my husband needs and desires, but I have become aware of the wife I need to, no, have to be for Chris, and there is no longer an excuse for being anything less.
Although we've only been married for a little over a month, I feel like I have already grown as a wife. I definitely do not claim to have this 'wifey' thing under control (I did let an entire pound of meat spoil and go to waste), but I do understand what being a Godly, respectable, supporting wife looks like, and I hope and pray that I can be a beacon of that to all I come in contact with.
This is one of my favorite picture of my husband and I (taken by our sweet friend, Meg). I feel like the way I am looking at Chris in this picture is the way I always have: out of absolute love and adornment. But let's be honest, it isn't always shown on the exterior of me. I don't want anyone to ever think that they way I looked at Chris here is not the way I look at him now, and giving them a reason to assume that is devastating to me. I never want to tarnish this moment with the stain of disrespect for my husband, and from this day forward, I will do my best to love my husband beyond the frustrations and imperfections. I will respect my husband enough to not give someone a reason to change their opinion of him
Isn't he just so darn good looking in this picture? I am such a lucky girl, and I sure do love him so!!
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
Big Macs and Cracker Stackers
I have this small obsession with McDonald's and Lunchables.
Okay. It's a pretty big obsession.
One of the highlights of my week last week was finding out the new building that is being constructed right down the road from our house is, in face, a McDonald's. I will now be 2 miles from one instead of 3. *insert Hallelujah chorus here*
I went grocery shopping this past Friday (very long overdue!), and saw that the real Lunchables, not the off brand, were on sale for $1 a piece. I bought 8. I would've bought more, but I was afraid my husband would be a little upset that I spent more money on cracker stackers than I did on, well, anything else I bought.
Here is why these two gifts from Heaven are so delectable to me:
Growing up, my mom cooked almost every meal, especially dinner. But occasionally, we would go out to eat. We never went to sit-down restaurant (would you try taking a 12 year old, 6 year old, 2 year old, and a newborn to a sit-down? Yeah, me neither), and Chic-Fil-A was a SUPER special treat, so where did we go?
You guessed it. McDonald's.
It is still ingrained in my head that McDonald's is a treat. Don't get me wrong! It wasn't like it was a twice-a-year thing, but it definitely wasn't a twice-a-week thing. I can still remember the excitement of knowing we were going. I would anticipate it for days if I knew we would be going grocery shopping or to a doctor's appointment, because I knew there was a strong chance we would be making a trip through the drive-thru (again, would you take 4 young kids inside McDonald's?). Even at 24, this excitement still exists, only difference is I now have a driver's license and a pay check, which entitles me to go whenever I want to.
I used to get Lunchables when I was an only child for a snack and sometimes for school. When my sisters came along, that was four mouths that wanted Lunchables. And regular Lunchables wouldn't do, you HAD to have the ones with the chocolate treat and the Capri-Sun. So, the solution to wanting the more expensive ones was to not get them at all. It was probably also due to the fact that we would eat them all in one day. So, once again, Lunchables were a treat. Any time my mom said I could pick out a Lunchable for whatever reason was a major life-moment to me.
I know, it's weird. But hey! That's how I'm wired. Funny how the brain latches on to certain things like this and won't let go.
There's partial bad news for me now. My husband is not a fan of McDonald's, and a Lunchable does nothing to satisfy his hunger. He will be sweet enough to eat McDonald's with me every once in a while or make a special trip just for me (especially when I offer to pay for it), and he goes along with my Lunchable-buying mania for now, but his love for these two wonderful food-options is not near as strong as mine. I am not going to lie, it does break my heart a little, especially about the McDonald's. I could seriously eat a Big Mac and a cracker stacker every single day, but since my husband does not agree, I now have included other options into my daily diet.
My arteries should probably thank my husband for his non-compliance. I'm sure they greatly appreciate it.
Okay. It's a pretty big obsession.
One of the highlights of my week last week was finding out the new building that is being constructed right down the road from our house is, in face, a McDonald's. I will now be 2 miles from one instead of 3. *insert Hallelujah chorus here*
I went grocery shopping this past Friday (very long overdue!), and saw that the real Lunchables, not the off brand, were on sale for $1 a piece. I bought 8. I would've bought more, but I was afraid my husband would be a little upset that I spent more money on cracker stackers than I did on, well, anything else I bought.
Here is why these two gifts from Heaven are so delectable to me:
Growing up, my mom cooked almost every meal, especially dinner. But occasionally, we would go out to eat. We never went to sit-down restaurant (would you try taking a 12 year old, 6 year old, 2 year old, and a newborn to a sit-down? Yeah, me neither), and Chic-Fil-A was a SUPER special treat, so where did we go?
You guessed it. McDonald's.
It is still ingrained in my head that McDonald's is a treat. Don't get me wrong! It wasn't like it was a twice-a-year thing, but it definitely wasn't a twice-a-week thing. I can still remember the excitement of knowing we were going. I would anticipate it for days if I knew we would be going grocery shopping or to a doctor's appointment, because I knew there was a strong chance we would be making a trip through the drive-thru (again, would you take 4 young kids inside McDonald's?). Even at 24, this excitement still exists, only difference is I now have a driver's license and a pay check, which entitles me to go whenever I want to.
I used to get Lunchables when I was an only child for a snack and sometimes for school. When my sisters came along, that was four mouths that wanted Lunchables. And regular Lunchables wouldn't do, you HAD to have the ones with the chocolate treat and the Capri-Sun. So, the solution to wanting the more expensive ones was to not get them at all. It was probably also due to the fact that we would eat them all in one day. So, once again, Lunchables were a treat. Any time my mom said I could pick out a Lunchable for whatever reason was a major life-moment to me.
I know, it's weird. But hey! That's how I'm wired. Funny how the brain latches on to certain things like this and won't let go.
There's partial bad news for me now. My husband is not a fan of McDonald's, and a Lunchable does nothing to satisfy his hunger. He will be sweet enough to eat McDonald's with me every once in a while or make a special trip just for me (especially when I offer to pay for it), and he goes along with my Lunchable-buying mania for now, but his love for these two wonderful food-options is not near as strong as mine. I am not going to lie, it does break my heart a little, especially about the McDonald's. I could seriously eat a Big Mac and a cracker stacker every single day, but since my husband does not agree, I now have included other options into my daily diet.
My arteries should probably thank my husband for his non-compliance. I'm sure they greatly appreciate it.
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