Baby, I'm Afraid You're A Lot Like Me

Four years ago, this evening, I sat with a tiny baby girl in my arms. I hadn't known it would be her, and I wasn't sure how to be a mommy. All I had known was that a baby was coming, and it would be mine to love.

After 24 hours of labor, I had a beautiful girl placed in my arms, and I had never seen such beauty. She looked up at me with such wide eyes and a silky dark hair, and I remember my first thought was that she resembled one of my baby pictures. There was a familiarity in her eyes, that I saw. After months of wondering what this unknown baby would look like, here she was in front of me, and all I could think, was that she reminded me of me.

Since that moment of first laying eyes on my daughter, I have grown to love her in so many ways. I love how she embraces life with passion and excitement. I love how she is zany and silly. I love the compassion she has for others, and the willingness to stick to something, even when it's so hard it makes her cry.

Even though I don't hold her on my chest the way I did that evening four years ago, I still sometimes lie close beside her, and look over her face, and wonder. I wonder how I will bless her, and how I will fail her. How I will show her love, how I will not. How will I be her mother, and but also her friend? How will I teach her to be a woman after the Lord's heart, and yet have the confidence to walk through her deepest doubts asking Him to show her the way? How can I teach her to be a woman of truth and courage, with strength and passion? How will I show her how to embrace joy and sorrow, and to love relentlessly? I do not know the answers to these questions. I only know that no matter what I do, or don't do, the Lord has chosen her to be my little girl, and me to be her mommy. And because of that I know that He will show me how.

I still see so much of myself in River. Sometimes because of that it makes it hard for me to be as gracious and patient with her. But I desperately want to. So much of the time, when I pray for her, I pray for myself. And vice versa. Because the same strengths I have, she has. And the same weaknesses I have, she has. It brings me joy, and it scares me to death. But I know that the Lord is big enough to love her through it all, just as He has me. I love the words of this Sara Groves song, because it's exactly how I feel when I think about River.

Baby, I'm afraid you're a lot like me.
You can't help feeling everything.
I can see you trying to hold it in.
I see your eyes, and your trembling chin.

And for you, and myself, I will pray.
That our weakness becomes our strength.

Baby there some holes you just can't fill.
You try and you try, but you never will.
Baby, I believe a God who can.
He loves the boy, and He'll love the man.

And for you and myself, I will pray.
That our weakness becomes our strength.

She brings me so much joy. I love her more than I ever knew I could. Happy Birthday, baby girl.

Happy Snow Day!

So instead of thinking, Happy Valentine's Day, the other morning, we were surprised with a snow day! I know it's been a couple of days already, but I'm just now getting around to documenting. It's a pretty big deal, seeing as it will probably be a year before we see any more of it. This was Asher's first exploration of snow, so it was very fun to introduce him to our "friend" (for all your Gilmore Girls fans).










meet Harry....

The Difference Is...

My grandmother sometimes references when she was a young mother. I love hearing her stories about what it was like, then, verses now. And many times I wish for a time like then, for a simpler time. But many times, I'm thankful.

The other night, I decided to make my mom's homemade "Old Fashion Chicken Pot Pie". It used to be my one of my favorites, especially on a cold day. But, I've never actually made it. Just the recipe is like a whole page long, so yes, it feels a bit intimidating.

Well, it was about 4:30, and the chicken was frozen - yes, a whole chicken. We don't have a microwave (out of choice) and so I don't usually defrost meat in a hurry. But, after a quick chat with my sister, I decided, it would take a little while, but it would be worth it. Need I remind you that it was 4:30.

At first, I was like, this doesn't take that much longer than the way I do it. I don't know why I always do the shortcut version. That was the first hour.

My husband got home at 6:15, and I told him we still had a little while before dinner. I didn't know we had another hour and a half.

So, my poor children were starving, but dag on it, we had our "Old Fashion Chicken Pot Pie" and I realized why my grandmother didn't have time to get on the floor and play with her children. And I also realized why my mom didn't make this recipe very often.

We ate at 8pm. Yes it was delicious, but after that, I think I'll stick to my quick and easy version.

But that's part of the problem. It makes me sad that we don't ever choose the longer, harder, more strenuous version of whatever it is, anymore. We have shortcuts for everything, and we use them - proudly. I'm the queen of wanting something done quick. I know that my grandmother sometimes gets a teary look in her eye when she talks about not spending time that she wished she had with her little ones, but after just trying something the old-fashioned way one evening, I can understand why. They wouldn't have been able to do anything!

I wish there was a way to meet in the middle. To value the quality, but to not always have to be in such an efficient mindset. To not cram so much into life that we miss what's really there. I know, sometimes even with all the shortcuts I use, life still feels overwhelming. I don't have to do my laundry by hand, I have a washer and dryer, but when I see the never-ending piles, I want to hide it all under my bed, and just go get new clothes. I hate laundry, and it never goes away.

Yesterday we had a surprise when we woke up. A gorgeous snow covered world to wake us up on Valentine's Day. And instead of looking at dread at this...


...I found myself smiling at this...



What's the difference? The difference is that I had loved every minute of playing out in the snow, and seeing all the clothes and shoes piled up simply reminded me of time well spent with my family. But yes, I am quite thankful for my washer and dryer.

It's the Little Things...

i have a new love affair.  it's with these adorable little magnets.  i can't seem to make enough.  they've made me very happy.   i like things to look pretty.   not perfect, not necessarily polished, but pretty.   my fridge has felt very pretty with her new accessories.  it's like she's got jewelry now.   shhh...don't tell her that they're not really just for her.     i'll give her these.

or maybe these...

but these would look much better in my sisters kitchen

which, when i made them, i was thinking of my sweet big sister, and so i decided that this set would be called Carrie.  that lent me to the thought that each set of magnets should be named after someone.  wouldn't you like them better if they each had names?  it makes me like them so much more!   but it's also harder to let them go.    ok, do you see how this is an affair.

so, now, let me introduce you to...

RIVER

she's spunky, fun, and very pretty.

And the Winner Is....

"Charmed"!   Congratulations!    Thank you each for all your sweet comments and encouragement about my giveaway.  It was so fun!    And check out my Etsy shop and receive 10% off your first purchase.   

You Know How I Love Give-Aways!

Welcome to the blog give away! This is such a fun game, so come on and play! You never know, YOU might even WIN!!! Definitely stop on by Rocks in My Dryer to check out all of the hundreds playing this game!

want to see what you could win here...



this fun, unique, and hang-up anywhere "Joy" sign!

i love making these signs, and then hang them anywhere to add a little life to an area. they're great on doors, or walls, or on windows - wherever!

all you need to do to be entered into the giveaway is to be live in the US, and then just is post a comment, and you're in the raffle! i'll name the winner on saturday, feb. 1st! good luck!

A New Phase

If you can't tell, I go through phases. Phases of blogging, phases of clothes, phases of baking, phases of designing and redesigning...phases. And in my phases, usually I don't like doing much out of that phase. If I'm organizing, I'm organizing for hours. If I'm designing or making things, I'm not making dinner that night, I'm usually just making whatever it is that is making my house a wreck, but by golly, I'll finish it. Even if it takes till 3 AM.

When I was dating, I was not like some people who dated for months and years. I might date someone for about 2 weeks, and then that'd be it. They'd start getting on my nerves, or being boring, whatever. I don't think I even make it longer than a month until I was in college, and then my record breaking relationship was 4 months. That is, until I was smitten with the love of my life. I actually was very surprised when after a few months, still wasn't tired of him! He still keeps me guessing, and still gives me butterflies in my stomach.

But when it comes to friends, I have no phase. I love my friends. Probably too much sometimes. I love being with them. I love hearing about parts of their days or weeks that I've missed out on. I love blessing them with little messages or surprising them with treats. I cry when they cry. And I absolutely hate not being able to be there for them.

My friends are the most wonderful people in the world. Have I mentioned that my friends will do anything for me? Even volunteer to be criminals and murderers? Not just anyone will do that.

I think that as long as I can remember, one of my greatest fears has been that I will not be chosen. Not chosen to be included. Not chosen to be a part of something. Not chosen. The Lord has given me such affirmation through them time and time again, that even though every now and then I can still feel the hint of insecurity, it is so overwhelmingly ridiculous because of the gift of friendship that I have been given through so many people. And knowing that I've been chosen by Christ - not only just accepted, but chosen. That means that He really wanted me, and even though He saw all of me, He still chose me.

All that said, it's very easy for me to choose my friends, but sometimes hard for me to choose Christ. Not in the big "choosing Christ as my life" way, but just in every day things. You know, to stop my life long enough to be quiet with Him. Because choosing Him, means looking at Him...in me. Allowing myself to become more fully acquainted with Him - in me. Why is that so scary? I know me, I know all about me. I love me. Did you see how many times I just said me? Why would looking in be so hard?

So, I'm praying for time with Jesus, alone, and not necessarily not with friends, but I sure do love looking at them, and not so much me. Christ in me, the hope of glory. That's good news! Not something scary. I know that He will shed light into the dark, and bring truth where needed, as I begin to become more of a friend, to Christ in me.

Do You Know Why I'm Blogging?

The same reason my sister decided to do her taxes the other day instead of cleaning her house. I mean, who does that? Who would rather do taxes? Apparently, she would. I'm blogging right now, because I am the biggest procrastinator known to mankind. I wish that I had something wonderful to blog about....some new story or revelation that would knock your socks off.

But no, I'm simply procrastinating putting away my Christmas stuff. Yes, shame, shame, shame. I still have my tree up, and my wreath, and the lights outside, yes, everything. I do not want to take it down. And yes, by now, I am getting tired of it. We passed my birthday, and my sisters birthday, and after that, it really should be out. But it's not, it's still sitting here, mocking me. Knowing that I haven't the slightest motivation to get it out. And it's not even the fun, feathered, wild tree that it was. I took all the fun things out, so now it's just a half decorated tree with bare spots all over it. But it is plugged in. There's something about having it up, that means that it has to plugged in.

So while I love decorating and having my house feel welcoming and perfect for whatever season we're in, instead of moving away from Christmas and on toward Valentine's day, or just back to normal, I'm stuck in the doldrums of leftover Christmas. And even doing laundry at 10pm feels more appealing than tackling the tearing down of the tree.

I think that if I analyzed it a bit more, I would definitely see how similar I can get in my walk with the Lord. I so many times can just get "used" to having Christ in my life that it's just that. He's there, and I love Him being there, but I'm not really challenging my faith, or seeking out little extra quiet moments with Him. I procrastinate about spending time with Him, knowing that I'll get to it, eventually. Instead of knowing how much I need that time, how I can't do anything apart from Him, how only in Him am I able to rest and find freedom for my soul. I see him so much of the time as an inconvenience that I don't have time for. Oh, how I wish my eyes could be opened to the desperation of my soul. My flesh is so easily tricked into thinking that I have it all together, when in truth, I'm barely holding on. If I could loosen my grip, and let Him have my day, my schedule, my life, that I try to juggle all on my own so often, how I would see His hands upholding it all. And I could rest, truly rest, in Him. Then rather than procrastinating about spending time with Him, I would run desperately into His arms, again and again. Knowing that in Him, is where I am found.

I'm going, I'm going....it's coming down tonight.

Happily Over After

My sweet daughter is almost 4, and there are only a few times a day I might hear her slip up in what she says, or the way she phrases something. But I love the mess ups so much that sometimes I don't correct her. I know she'll be mad later, when all the other kindergarteners are laughing, but we'll deal with that later. These have been my recent favorites.

"Mommy, I'm helping Daddy stir the pantake battery!"

"1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29....29, 26, 27.." (I'm not ready to get to 30 either, baby!)

"We can warm it up in the microphone."

When I remembered something in the store today, she said loudly, "You're fart Mommy!" - she can't say the sm together. So, I guess, I fart.

She told an elaborate story tonight with her Daddy, and the first thing he said was,
"There once was an old frog..." and she added on,

"Who was walking around, and stopped to pick up a sashew made out of wood and magic."

We had to stop the story for a minute, while I said, "A what, sweetie? A cashew?"

"NO, MOMMY! A Sashew!" I got it after a second, a statue. =)

The story ended brilliantly with, "And he lived happily over after!"

The Last Sip

As he came out with a full glass of eggnog, I looked at it longingly.

"Yummm....can I have a sip?" I asked hesitantly.

"Sure, have as much as you want. That's the last of it."

At this, my heart fell, and I knew it was really over. The end of a season, was here, and unfortunately, I had no choice but to slowly savor my last few sips of our wonderful farm fresh eggnog that my sister had blessed us with.

I say "blessed" because I wouldn't have purchased it on my own. No, I mainly shop at Aldi, which for the most part I love, as anyone will tell you. Even having to bag my own groceries doesn't deter me, simply because of how much I save. Earlier on in December, when I went for my major holiday shop, I bought 3 cartons of the eggnog, hoping to have it last through the season. However, as my husband, the true connoisseur, tasted it, he informed me that it was awful. Pasty and filmy. He said,

"I doctored it up a little with some nutmeg and cinnamon, and after that it's drinkable, but still not good."

Yeah, that's not the holiday experience I want with my eggnog.

Now, my sister loves Aldi even more than me. But she knows better than to try the eggnog. She knows the best place to buy any dairy goods is from her favorite family owned and operated Dairy Farm that she occasionally frequents, Mapleview Farms.

This eggnog was the best I have ever tasted in my life. So good that I couldn't believe she would give up a whole quart of it to us. Even if you had bought it for someone else, once you had tried it, you would secretly decide that you hadn't ever bought it for anyone but yourself. Because who would share something so delicious and wonderful as this? You might even have your own secret refrigerator that you keep another quart as a backup, that no one knows about but you.

But, she did share, and it was wonderful. Down to the last drop.

So, sadly, I very slowly enjoyed, and shared, the glass with my husband. I knew that it would be out of the stores since it's already a week after Christmas and I would not be able to get anymore, and thus would have to wait a whole year to have yummy eggnog again. And not just that, but this also meant that I had to get my Christmas tree taken down. And put up the stockings, and the wreath, and Oh, I'm not ready for it to be over yet!!! Epiphany isn't till this weekend, at least let me go till then!


And then I saw it. At Harris Teeter, I saw a whole fridge of on sale eggnog (BOGO). And even though it will pale in comparison to the Mapleview eggnog, it will give me the illusion that I have a few more days of this beautiful season.

To Make A Long Story Even Longer

Why is it that there's always a story to tell in my life. You could ask me a question about anything and there'd be a story. For example, you might say,

"How was your New Years?"

And my answer could be a short, "It was really good. Pretty low key, but fun."

or, depending on how much time you had, or if you're a friend that knows to ask a little bit more, you could hear...

"Well, we really didn't have any plans for New Yrs. But then some friends asked what we were doing on New Years, and for some reason, I translated it as, 'What are you doing on New Years day?" Not, 'What are you doing on New Years Eve?' So, I just planned to stay home with the kids during the day because Randy had decided to work.

And because Randy was working on New Years Eve, I went to a friends house and hung out with her and her kids while her husband was also at work...very fun new years eve.

Until I call Randy on my way home and realize that he's been home from outpatient eye surgery for a few hours. What??!! Yes. Eye Surgery. On New Years Eve. I mean, I knew he was going in for a check to see what the status was, but I didn't know they were going to strap him to the table right there and then. So, I'm feeling like a total screw up, especially after I hear how he drove himself with one good eye home, and then to get his prescription, and then back home.

I go pick up Randy, and run over to the store, because I had to get there before the weeks special changed, and let Ran stay in the car with the kids while they're sleeping. And while I'm in the store, I get a call from the friends who asked what we were doing on New Years. And they ask if we're going to a party that we've been invited to. Still thinking for some odd reason that they're talking about the following day, Jan. 1, I'm all, "Let me talk to Randy and see what he thinks, and we'll give you a call to let you know."

So we go home and make the dinner that we always make if we haven't planned anything, but we're all really hungry - breakfast dinner! Pancakes, hash browns, grits, eggs, etc. So we had a good dinner, put the kids to bed, clean up, watch a movie, watch the ball drop, you know, low key.

It wasn't until today, on New Years Day, that I'm still talking with Randy about whether or not we're going to the party that we were invited to for "tonight at 8:00". WHO THROWS A PARTY AT 8:00 on JAN 1st??? Why would I think that? Because my mind is always racing so much that sometimes, many times, it doesn't make sense. It makes sense to me. But that's where I get into trouble.

So, I actually call the couple, and as I'm leaving the message saying I think we're going to go to the party, I begin to realize that the party was the night before. WHILE I'M LEAVING THE MESSAGE.

So then, I call back, and let them know that if they'd still be interested in getting together, we'd love to have them over for a New Yrs. Day celebration.

Oh, me. I make myself laugh.

So I guess I'm the one who has the party at 8:00 on Jan. 1st. Actually it was 6, but hey, close enough.

A Family Tradition?

This year was the year of family traditions. I can be a little too legalistic about them sometimes, wanting to make something a tradition if you do it once and really like it. Saying that it should be a "tradition and do it every year". I think that some traditions are kind of hokey, and a little overdone, but then some are very fun. Now that our little girl is 3, it seems like we should be setting the traditions in place, being consistent from year to year, to make sure that we have them set. (see what i mean about the legalism?)

The first one we made was to get our Christmas tree on the first Friday of December. (Who knows if we'll really be able to keep that up)


Then, I got a gingerbread house that we decorated on Christmas Eve. We thought it would be fun to always do a Gingerbread house together - since none of us had ever done one before, and it was a fun family activity. You know, we could get better at it every year, and do more elaborate ones each year. I have these ridiculous visions of our kids being in their teens and twenties and still loving the Gingerbread house tradition. (yeah right)



Growing up, usually I got to open one present on Christmas Eve, so after taking a lengthy vote and trying to get the baby to nod his head in our favor, we decided to continue that tradition and all open one gift. He liked sitting on the present better, and tearing it open of course.


The regular things like stockings,


and birthday streamers and cake for Jesus on Christmas morning.

Watching Christmas movies and baking pies, reading Christmas stories, decorating, fun times opening presents on Christmas morning.

But you know, it gets to be a lot of stuff. Even the good stuff, gets to be a lot. And the more traditions you have, the more you do. And so, I think that what I want to make sure of, is being able to do fun things with our family, and if it's different every year, that's fine. I'd hate to be one of those people who make the family do the Gingerbread house every year, even though no one really wants to do it, but because it's "always" done, we have to do it. I'd much rather be flexible enough to just enjoy doing whatever it is that we all want to do.

My mom loved the beach...so much that many times we would go over the holidays. Thanksgiving, Christmas, Easter, you get the picture. So Christmas at the beach is really great to me. I was very excited because this year, my husbands family decided to be all together at the beach. Something I love about their family is that they play games. And not just like Go Fish. Real games like Capture the Flag, beach miniature golf, relays, horseshoes, ping pong, Pit, Balderdash, Bocce, etc. One game that they always do at Christmas time is the gag gift game. It was my daughters first time playing, and she definitely enjoyed it. But that's why it's fun to do traditions. Not because it's the same thing every year, but because you all get to partake in a fun, out of the ordinary thing. And it's never about winning with them, or the competition. We will sometimes even do silly things like create such outlandish games that you totally mess them up, and then laugh until your sides ache. From the youngest to the oldest, we all will play, and just enjoy being together. It's those types of traditions that really create memories, and end of being the kind of valuable experiences that make you love getting together with family. I love that my kids get to be a part of such a fun family. Hopefully, we'll pass that on to them.

Something About a Boy

Lately I've been thinking about my little boy, and how he's such a boy! I mean, I used to hate the phrase, "He's all boy!" Like, some boys aren't "all boy" and some are - I mean, if they're a boy, they're a boy; they might like music and art instead of sports and fishing, but they're still "all boy". But more recently I've come to understand a little more why people use that phrase when describing their boy. Here's a little bit about my boy.

He's always on the move!

He has taken quite well to terrorizing his older sister. She gives him just the reaction he's hoping for!

He doesn't just grab something. He grabs it, and usually throws it, or breaks it, or both. Ok, just for the record, I don't think River ever broke anything, and Asher breaks stuff all the time. Pulls it apart, bashes it on the floor, throws it across the room, etc.

He chases after what he wants with all his might.

He snuggles up close when he needs his down time.

He's happiest when he's eating.

He is a reckless explorer.

He's already almost stronger than me.

He doesn't give up easily...rather, he puts up quite a fight.

He's such a love! And he loves so much!

The other night, I was holding him before I laid him in his bed, and I had the thought that I wish he could stay my baby for longer than he is. Not that I don't want him to grow up, but just how fast it happens, sometimes, feels as if time is being taken from you. And all you can do is let it pass.

Tonight, as I was listening to one of my favorite Christmas songs (what other kind of music can you listen to the week before Christmas?!) about Mary and Joseph coming to know Jesus as their baby, but also as the Messiah, I listened again to the chorus I love so much.

"Have you cursed at the wind? Have you cried to the heavens? Have you fought with this mercy you don't understand?"

I think sometimes it's so easy to forget that as Mary and Joseph came to love this beautiful baby boy, and watch him grow and learn, and play and laugh, they also had to let go of him. And be willing to give Him over to the "death that would bring us new life." What an incredible hardship. To know your child, and to love them, and to know that He is God's Son, but to still know what he would have to go through. And for you, his parent. That his death would bring your life.

Knowing how much I love my own son, I appreciate so much more, the gift that was given to us at Christmas. From our Father, giving up his Son. And realizing how hard it must have been for Mary and Joseph. Knowing now, how much I love to hold my son, and how I cherish those moments of him being a sweet baby, and being so close to him, having him need me so much. I'm so thankful that Jesus was so willing to pay the price for us all. That he came knowing what lay ahead, and yet, he still chose to come.

Consider it Joy

Consider it pure joy, my brothers, whenever you face trials of many kinds, because you know that the testing of your faith develops perseverance. ~ James 1:2

I know that for me, I do not naturally rejoice when I face trials.  Rather, I inwardly shake my head at them, despise them, and try everything I can to get rid of them.  Being a parent has had it's fair share of struggles, but none so hard as to watch my own child(ren) begin to struggle with the same things that I have struggled through in this world.  Even though she's only 3, she's already learning about persevering through trials.  Now, these are not life changing tragedies, or suffering as many children in this world may know. But, still, they are trials that my little girl is beginning to face.

Just a few months ago, my daughter began dance.  She absolutely loved it, and as you can see, has even taken to being in dance clothes all the time; pretending she is in dance, or on her way to dance, or changing into dance clothes at school getting ready for dance, etc. etc. 

 

One day while we were talking, I mentioned excitedly that dance was that day.  And it was the first time I saw sadness about it.  She looked up at me, and then kind of slouched down, sighed, and then threw her head in her hands and said, "But, Mom, I can't do the HIP!"  and I knew what she meant.  She meant she couldn't skip, or hop.  Combined, it comes out as "hip".  My heart sank, as I realized that she had realized that she wasn't doing what the other children were able to do, and that she was really trying to do it, but just couldn't get it.  So, we tried to work on it, and every week, she went to dance, and every week, she galloped, and did not skip.  And, I cheered every week when she came out, even though I knew that she knew, and she knew that I knew, that she hadn't skipped.  But she had tried.

Last week, I had to go somewhere, and when I came back to pick her up, her dance teacher came out with her, and said really loud, "She skipped!"  I could tell that River was beaming, and as proud as she could be.  Of course, I hated myself for not being there, and seeing the result of so much determination and effort.  But I knew there would be another chance.  

And there was.

This week was parent observation week.  It was really fun to go in and be there up close, and be able to see her being excited about dance class, and all that she's doing.  It came time for the across the floor stuff, and she lined up, where she knew she was to be...first.  I think because she's the smallest, and they go smallest to tallest.  Ms. Suzanne stood at one end of the room, and the girls lined up on the other side, ready to skip all the way to her, and then jump up and hit the drum when they reached her.  When Ms. Suzanne had said that she had skipped, I just pictured in my head a normal paced skip, slow, but steady, around the room.  Well, my little one, wasn't quite that fast.  She was precious.  

She took one step, and then held that leg up, and hopped.  Then the other foot, step, up, hop.  The other, step, up hop, step, up hop, step, up, hop.  Slowly, mind you, very slowly, she made her way, all the way to Ms. Suzanne.

Without fear, without insecurity, just knowing, she put her mind to it, and however long it would take, she would make it.

And she did.

My eyes were wet with tears, and I knew that she had been able to have joy in the midst of the struggle.  She had persevered through, and come out on the other side. 

This is when I had first started taking dance.

I had to find this pic when I had taken the one of her in the same pose.  The only difference is my wonder woman band aid on my forehead.   

Pics from the Trip

you might be thinking, oh it's not as big i as i thought...
but this is only a side view.


the front entrance

"just" a window

happy after having a delicious brunch

one of the outer porticos

or was it mr. green in the conservatory with a rope

this was the first thing we saw when we walked into the inn...
merry christmas!

a close up of the fun presents - don't you want them to be yours?!


relaxing, and thinking how yummy those cookies look

one last look

A Get-Away to Remember

I have the luxury of blogging by a ginormous fire, with no children interrupting, and no distractions pulling my attention away. My husbands generous parents blessed us with a much needed get-away to the Biltmore Estate for Christmas. It has been so fun! Truly amazing, this place!! We hadn't been away together in over a year, so it has been great! However, as always in my life, there have been plenty of little adventures to accompany our trip, and make it more...let's say, interesting! So, I'll warn you ahead of time, this will be a long-winded entry and an unedited entry with some embarrassing moments.

Before we even left home, we had a pretty busy week with lots going on. You know, sleepless nights, busy days, sick child, work, play, Christmas decorating, laundry, etc. So, on Friday, since we hadn't gotten it yet, my daughter and I decided that it would be really fun to make a new tradition, and get our Christmas tree on the first Friday of December. I'm never ahead of the game enough to get decorations out right after Thanksgiving, and I like leaving the tree up until after my birthday in January, so, I figure it's the perfect time to get it. So, instead of taking time Friday night to pack and get ready for our trip, I spent it with the family, getting our tree, and then hot chocolate and hot Krispy Kreme donuts (you can't start a tradition without including something yummy to go with it - and let me just say CHOCOLATETIME! Even being a dessert snob, these are delicious little delicacies!) All that to say, I didn't pack until late Friday night, when my mind was very tired.

We start out, and are having a great time, chatting and laughing, and then I realize that we don't have any Christmas music on. And, I mean, I'm wanting to hear Christmas music the whole time, because it's our Christmas get-away, and our Christmas present, and you know, you HAVE to have Christmas music. So, I reach down to get the cd case with all the Christmas music, and I realize, I didn't grab it off the foyer table. So I say to Randy, "Did you grab the cd case?" Even though I knew that he hadn't because I remember seeing it out of the corner of my eye shortly before leaving. The "No" came as blow, feeling so mad that I didn't have the perfect music that I had so desperately wanted. So, I frantically fumble through all of my cds in the car, and finally breathe again when I see my favorite Christmas cd, and shout "YES!" happily feeling rescued, even though I know how ridiculous it is that it would spoil the drive for me. I put it on, and start relaxing... again.

We continue on, again, having a gay old time, when suddenly CRACK!! POP!!! CRACK!!! And the windshield is hit hard, and cracked in 3 places by an oversized truck riding the shoulder. Now, Randy was driving and was back at least 100 ft., so it wasn't like I was driving and tailing the guy. So, I spend the next 20 minutes on the phone with the insurance company figuring out how we're going to get it taken care of. But, pretty easily it's dealt with, and then back to our fun.

So as we continue to Asheville, I say to Randy, did you get the camera? (Knowing I don't remember seeing it packed.) He chuckles as he says how even yesterday a friend reminded him to get the camera, but still we forgot it. So we decided to make our first stop on our vacation, a stop in at Best Buy (romantic, huh?) and finally buy a digital camera. But it was fun to shop without kids, and actually be able to go together to pick it out. So on our way, again.

We get downtown Asheville, and love it! We went through a street market, and then grabbed lunch at a great little cafe called True Confections where they make everything there, and everything from scratch, and even enjoyed sitting outside in the wonderful warm fall day. It was all delicious.

As we drove out of Asheville and onto the Biltmore, we look at a map, and it looks like we take 40 W a little bit farther, and then exit for the estate. So, we get back on the interstate, and drive a little, and a little bit more...and a little bit more....no Biltmore signs. I decide I'll call just to check and make sure we're going the right way. Turns out, we weren't. We were at about exit 15, and the exit for Biltmore is exit 50. We turn around, and decide that we just got to enjoy more of the western part of the state. When do we actually get to just drive around in the mountains? But, we did have to get over the initial 45 min. detour.

We arrive at the Estate at check in time, and are welcomed in by all we see. They were all so nice! We had a good time getting settle into our room, and just enjoyed getting ready for our evening slowly. I took time to pluck my eyebrows in one of those gigantic mirrors that they sometimes have at nice hotels. That was awesome. And you know, just kind of spent time doing all the things that I don't usually do when I get ready. Put eye shadow on and not just mascara in a rush.

Our dinner reservations aren't until 8, and so we figure, we can ride the shuttle over to the house, and walk around a little bit in the house, and then catch the shuttle over to the Bistro a few minutes before our reservation. These are clearly the thoughts of someone who has never been to the Biltmore. When we got downstairs, we realized we had just missed the 6:15 shuttle, but there would be another one at 6:30. So, we think, ok, we'll just wait a few minutes, but we'll still have about an hour at the house before we need to get to dinner. We get on the shuttle, and Ralph, the driver begins our commute. He lets us know we'll be making a few stops before getting to the house, and we'll probably arrive at the house around 7:10. WHAT? It takes 40 minutes? We ended up riding the shuttle all the way to the house, but after talking more with Ralph about our itinerary, we decide it will be best to stay on the shuttle, and go back to the Bistro then. So we get to the Bistro about 7:30, and actually have time to have a tour of the Winery and a tasting of the estate wines. Perfect! Also, the hour shuttle tour, gave us an hour with Ralph, who knew all types of Biltmore trivia that we couldn't have read or heard anywhere else. As one of the other shuttle passengers said later, "He was like 100 years old, I mean, he knew what he was talking about." You'll hear about him later.

Ok, this is where, if you're a man, you may not want to read. If "feminine" subjects make you get uncomfortable, just stop reading.

As we're walking through the winery, I get a little distracted, because I realize I'm starting my period. And did I take my purse - NO! I thought it would be just a little walk down to the house, or back up to the inn. Not a 40 min. shuttle ride. Do we have any cash? Of course not. Everything's paid for. What do I have in my pocket? Lip gloss. That's it. No quarters, no supplies, no nothing. And, I'm wearing a skirt, too. Nice, huh. So, I go to the restroom and they do have the machines where you can get tampons and things, but you know, no one's in there for me to ask if they have a quarter. And not to mention it's 8 o'clock, and we're about to be late for our reservation. And our candlelight tour is at 9:30, which means we have to be on the shuttle by 9:00 - not a lot of time to take the shuttle back to the inn, and then back to the house.

So we go on up to the restaurant, and I don't know what to do. I mean, if we go back to the inn, we miss our dinner, and we hadn't eaten since 1:00, and we wouldn't have another chance. But if we went after dinner, we'd miss our tour. The whole reason for going. So, we're sitting at our table, and trying to figure things out. Randy's plan is to go down to the gift shop and buy something (one of the yummy bottles of wine) and then get cash back, if that's an option. Our waitress comes up and she's super nice. Everyone there is sooo nice! And she's a really good waitress, too, with really good descriptions, and lots of helpful opinions, etc. So, she leaves and we begin to problem solve again, mind you, REALLY needing to make a decision. So she comes up again, and I just know, I have to ask our poor waitress for a quarter. I have to take some of her tips to go get myself a stupid tampon. I tell you, pretty humiliating. So, I say, "I have to ask you a really random, and pretty awkward question. I just started my period, and I don't have any supplies, and I don't have any cash. Can I borrow a quarter so I can go down and get something in the bathroom?" And she's so sweet. She says, "Of course! Oh my gosh, yes, and don't even worry about it." I told her we would compensate her in her tip. That makes me laugh really hard. It was so bad.

Ok, so that being said, the evening began to get more relaxed. We had a fabulous dinner, and every time the waitress came to the table, I felt like she kind of gave me the "Are you ok?" smile, but never mentioned it again. We did not get dessert, which was very sad, but we were already at our max for time.

We get back on the shuttle, and there are a couple of couples already on there that are about our age. So I think, "Oh good, the later evening younger crowd." So on we go. This driver is not quite as informative as Ralph, but he likes to tell more of the rumored ghost stories of the Biltmore, rather than the interesting facts, but it's really funny to hear. And especially the guy who keeps talking about the Gators. How the Gators rock, and "Whooo-Whoo! GATORS!" I'm not kidding. Someone would be talking about something else, and somehow him being a Gator fan got brought into the subject. I lean over and start talking about the Pirates with Randy, and the bowl game they're going to. I almost Arrggghhed at him, but I withheld.

So, then the two couples start bickering about who owns the Biltmore estate. One guy thinks that the government took it over years ago, but the Gator guy's wife knew the history of it still being in the family, but how the other guys dad, blah blah blah. OMG who cares?! I'm just kidding, I really did care, but the arguing? Come on. So we get to the house, and the line is so long, but we show our tickets, and since we're there a little after our ticket time, they escort us right up to the house. And in we go. However, so do the Gator pack. AND THEY'RE STILL BICKERING! So, I tell Randy I can't handle being beside them for the entire tour through the house. Loud Gator guy being all "whoo-whoo" and all. So we ditch them and try to get up ahead and squeeze into the group without being too suspicious.

So we're in the tour, and I look back and see the couples in the room behind us, STILL ARGUING about who owns the house! But, I don't mind because we're in the next room. So I start to really take in the house, and am getting into all the fixtures, walls, fabrics, stonework, when I hear the guy behind me go to the guy next to him, "Hey man, did you ever see the "Everybody Loves Raymond" episode where Ray's mom Marie makes the statue of, you know, (ok, unfortunately, i've seen the episode, so i of course know exactly what he's referencing). But she can't see what it looks like. But everyone else can? Yea, it's really funny. Kinda reminds me of this."

Let me just say, that I am soooo glad that I married the man I married. And that I have a greater appreciation for the men out there that talk about more things than sports and tv. Because apparently, they're aren't that many. All night, we were hearing things. It was really funny. We laughed so much. We also really, really enjoyed seeing the amazing home of George W. Vanderbilt. It's truly unbelievable how vast and intricate it is. And being Christmas, it was decorated beautifully.

I think what I love about how we do things, is that we never have it so planned out that there isn't room for adventure. I mean, sure in the midst of it, I'm thinking "Why didn't we call and ask ahead of time?" or "Why wasn't I thinking!" But at the same time, if every time something bad or inconvenient happened it ruined your time, that would make for a pretty frustrating existence. Not that I'm a pro at just letting things go, but at the same time, this weekend was definitely a time that I could practice.

This morning, amazingly enough, we had a great time of drinking coffee and reading in the Word, and praying by our huge windows that looked out onto the vast expanse of land.
And it was truly wonderful.

As we packed up and were getting ready to leave the room, Randy says, "Where's the valet ticket?" And here we go again.

13 going on 30

my baby is already one, my little girl dresses herself and asks if she can borrow my watch, my smart and talented husband has began a business doing exactly what he loves, and i am able to be a full time stay at home mom, with a great (couple of) jobs on the side.   i feel like my life is passing so quickly, and i really am growing up.   not just getting older, but really seeing my life develop into the life that i've had waiting for me. 

the life that i didn't know was waiting for me at the young age of 13, as i dreamed of being a wife and a mother (you know, the supermodel looking mom, that all the other kids want as their mom because of how cool and awesome she is), an architect (because i liked to build card houses), a designer (i loved drawing out room designs- especially of my beach house, with the aquarium lined hallway and huge bay window over the kitchen sink that looked straight out at the ocean because, you know, it was an oceanfront house, of course), a teacher (i love kids, and have always known i would work with them - a teacher seemed to fit), a marine biologist...(that dream lasted a few years, but then i realized all i really wanted with that was to scuba dive and spend time at the beach.   so instead, i got certified to scuba dive, and went to the beach more.   much more achievable, without so many lab hours.)

point is, i'm approaching my 30th birthday and cannot believe that i am going to be in the same age range of how old my parents were when i remember asking them how old they were for the first time, and their answer being 33, or 34, or even 38.   i mean, it's in the same decade....it's JUST AROUND THE CORNER!

so i'm choosing to believe that "30 is the new 20", which i have no idea where i first heard, but i love and am going to claim it as my new slogan.   i think i am going to have it put on a T-shirt.

one of my best friend's birthdays is tomorrow, which means that mine is only a month away, and the big 3-0 will be here.   so happy birthday, friend, and thanks for paving the way.   i'm right there behind you.    and i'm pretty excited.   even though my house looks very different than the one i designed when i was 13, and my days are a lot crazier than i expected them to be, i wouldn't want to be anywhere else doing anything else.    i like being able to see who this grown up 13 year old is becoming.

A Different Kind of Picnic

The other day, it was beautiful, and I decided that my kids and I would make lunch and go outside for a picnic. My son was so famished that I went ahead and sat him in his seat and let him graze while I made my daughter and my plates. I didn't really just want a baloney sandwich (call me crazy) and so I was taking a little more time making mine.

After slicing up fruit and getting out some chips and having all of their food ready, my sandwich is still not made, and my son is finished. And not just finished and happily sitting there; finished and yelling to get out. Meanwhile, my daughter is trying to let her baby doll have some pears and yogurt in her highchair. And is already excited about her own plate, so she decides to go ahead and start on hers. So, I get my son out of his seat, and wash his messy hands off, and try to finish making my sandwich. I am finally ready with a great looking sandwich, some good chips, and pears sliced up, and off to the great outdoors. With son on hip, daughter beside me, and plate in other hand, far enough out of baby's grabbing reach, we start outside.

We sat down in the grass, and for about a minute, it was great. Great weather, lots of grass, lots of room for them to play.

They did for about a minute. Then, my children discover my lunch. They both like my chips, the same chips they just had. They both want my pear, pear that they just had. And they both want my sandwich. That I spent time making really yummy, and not just a crap sandwich to put food in my stomach. MY SANDWICH! (can you hear the Ross voice about the Thanksgiving sandwich that has the moist maker?) So, the remainder of our "picnic" ends up being me trying to fend off the sharks crawling all over me trying to eat my lunch, even though they had already eaten! I kept trying to eat, while my son toddled around, and then would run back to me and fall on me knocking my plate around. Or grab at whatever food was still on my plate. After he fell down and rolled face forward down the hill, I decided it was time to end the picnic.

I ended up going in with food all over me, and my 2 children full bellied, and my sandwich thoroughly enjoyed by all of us.

The Sweetest Sound

My 11 month son has done everything early. Sat up early, crawled early, walked early, and even started saying things early. So, I've been waiting patiently for that day. The day when I would hear how he would say my name. Well, it was definitely not his first word...

first word: DaDa (great way to start, and referring to yes, daddy, and also mommy, and you know, most things he's trying to say)

next words: dog (followed by the sound, "Wuh, wuh, wuh" as in, "woof, woof" in case you needed interpretation) and ball - a sports fan already

so, needless to say, i was wondering when would my name would be mentioned. you know, JUST THE MOST INVOLVED PERSON IN HIS LIFE!

earlier this week, i heard him crying, walking around, and i thought i heard him say, "Mama", but i didn't want to get too excited.

and then again, i thought i heard it yesterday. but still, not sure that he was meaning it for what it really was.

but today, all day long, he was saying "Mama, Mama." it was definitely the sweetest thing he's ever said to me!

Here Comes the Sun

I really like hearing songs at appropriate times...you know, theme music. Road trip songs, sad songs, mad, playful silly songs, etc.

this morning as i was not in a rush (surprise of all surprises) and had more than enough time to get where i needed to be. i got caught in a traffic jam, and simply because i hate sitting in traffic, i turned down a side street, and went around my butt to get to my elbow. but i didn't mind, because i had plenty of time. amazing, i know!

so, as i was going the long way to preschool, i ended up going by a lake and saw how beautiful the morning was. i mean, really saw it. not just kind of saw it, in a mad dash across town, but really saw how gorgeous the sun reflecting on the water was.

right about that time, the Beatles CD was starting to play "Here Comes the Sun". and i just smiled.

listening to the words anew this morning, i was thankful. thankful that the sun always rises. thankful that even when it's been a long, cold, lonely winter, and it feels like years since it's been here, the sun will start to shine again, and the smiles will return to faces. and it will be alright.

my favorite part was that after listening to it once, my sweet little girl said,

"Mommy, can we hear the it's alright sun one again, over and over again?"

"We sure can, sweetie," i said with a smile on my face and a tear in my eye.