Today is my birthday! The big 3-8! Wow. 40 just keeps getting closer and closer. But it's not here yet so I'm going to enjoy the last 2 years of my thirties while I can.
Something dawned on me today. I don't know why it took 38 years for me to realize this but it did. There will never be another year 37 for me. It's gone. Over. Kaput. While you're busy living life, you don't stop to think about the fact that each year really is precious because it's a once in a lifetime year. At least I didn't. I find myself either getting bogged down in the minutiae of daily living or planning for the future and I don't ever really stop and think about the moments at hand. So when I started thinking about how 37 was gone and never coming back, I got a little sad.
It's tempting to be depressed about getting older. But while I was sitting in my car today mourning the loss of 37, I decided that I needed to reflect on not only that year, but all the years of my life and be grateful for them. And as my dad always says, having another birthday is definitely better than the alternative.
I am so grateful for the life God has given me. I'm alive and well. I'm thankful for the good health I've had so far.
I'm thankful for a merciful God who has given me more second chances than I deserve. He has always watched over me and helped me make right the messes that I made for myself.
I'm so thankful for the education I received--from the days of public school all the way through to my higher education.
I'm grateful for my beautiful family. I have a husband that would move heaven and earth for his wife and children if he could. And I have 3 beautiful, healthy kids that are my little, walking miracles. I'm thankful for my extended family--those still here and those that have already moved on--and what they have taught me and brought to my life.
I am thankful for my friends--those old and dear friends who are so close to me and such a part of my life that they are like family. I'm also grateful for the new friends that God has brought into my life. I know all of these people are there for a reason and I truly value each and every one.
I am thankful for the basic, material things that make my life easier--my home, my car, the clothes I wear and the food I eat.
There are many, many more things I could list here if I sat and gave it more thought. But I'm tired this evening--this first night of my 38th year. So it's time to sleep. Thank you, God, for letting me live to see another year. Please don't ever let me forget to make each year and every moment in it count. Happy birthday to me and good night!
Monday, December 10, 2012
Friday, November 16, 2012
Five Minute Friday--Stay
Go!
Staying put can sometimes be a good thing. But when you're talking about making serious life changes, staying where you are can rarely happen.
I am almost 38 years old and I'm reexamining my life as a Christian. Studying more. Learning more. Praying more. I'm trying to change some very old, not so attractive habits and character flaws in myself. It's hard. Change is hard. It can be scary. Especially when you're talking about getting yourself out of a rut. It's tempting to just stay in this place. Be the same old Allison I've always been. But I realize more and more that it didn't really get me anywhere spiritually. It's time to move on. Move up. Face the challenges of being more Christ-like. And the joys.
The most important thing now is for me to stay in God's presence as much as I can. Fully realize His presence.
Stop!
Here's the scoop on Five Minute Friday from Lisa Jo herself:
Staying put can sometimes be a good thing. But when you're talking about making serious life changes, staying where you are can rarely happen.
I am almost 38 years old and I'm reexamining my life as a Christian. Studying more. Learning more. Praying more. I'm trying to change some very old, not so attractive habits and character flaws in myself. It's hard. Change is hard. It can be scary. Especially when you're talking about getting yourself out of a rut. It's tempting to just stay in this place. Be the same old Allison I've always been. But I realize more and more that it didn't really get me anywhere spiritually. It's time to move on. Move up. Face the challenges of being more Christ-like. And the joys.
The most important thing now is for me to stay in God's presence as much as I can. Fully realize His presence.
Stop!
Here's the scoop on Five Minute Friday from Lisa Jo herself:
We write for five minutes flat. All on the same prompt that I post here at 1 minute past midnight EST ever Friday. And we connect on Twitter with the hashtag#FiveMinuteFriday
No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation.
Unscripted. Unedited. Real.
It started because I’d been thinking about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And I figured, why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.
So now on Fridays a group of people who love to throw caution to the wind and just write without worrying if it’s just right gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes.
Friday, November 9, 2012
Five Minute Friday--Quiet
Go!
Today has been one of those days. The day that every mom dreads. Too many missed details, too many tears, too many shrieking screams from the backseat, too much disappointment.
Quiet is all I want right now.
No phones ringing
No kids whining
No cartoons blaring in the background
No babies crying
No cheesie kid music
No dogs barking
No kids fighting
I just need silence so I can hear God's voice right now. That's all I need. His quiet reassurance that all is going to be okay....that I am a good mom.....that's he's right here with me today, hands on my shoulders, giving me a loving pep talk.
SHHHHHHHH.........I'm listening, God!
Stop!
Here's the scoop on Five Minute Friday from Lisa Jo herself:
Today has been one of those days. The day that every mom dreads. Too many missed details, too many tears, too many shrieking screams from the backseat, too much disappointment.
Quiet is all I want right now.
No phones ringing
No kids whining
No cartoons blaring in the background
No babies crying
No cheesie kid music
No dogs barking
No kids fighting
I just need silence so I can hear God's voice right now. That's all I need. His quiet reassurance that all is going to be okay....that I am a good mom.....that's he's right here with me today, hands on my shoulders, giving me a loving pep talk.
SHHHHHHHH.........I'm listening, God!
Stop!
Here's the scoop on Five Minute Friday from Lisa Jo herself:
We write for five minutes flat. All on the same prompt that I post here at 1 minute past midnight EST ever Friday. And we connect on Twitter with the hashtag#FiveMinuteFriday
No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation.
Unscripted. Unedited. Real.
It started because I’d been thinking about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And I figured, why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.
So now on Fridays a group of people who love to throw caution to the wind and just write without worrying if it’s just right gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes.
Monday, November 5, 2012
I think I'm having a mom-life crisis
Before I became a full-time mom, I worked for a major retailer in the corporate office. I worked there for 13 years. It was my first "real" job. My only "real" job. You know, the kind where you work a consistent 40 hour week, get benefits, an office--or in my case, a cubicle, and have a steady pay check. Well, the last few years there were not good. My coworkers--girls I consider to be good friends--and I were victims of very poor management. While I can't speak for all of those girls, I feel pretty confident they'd agree with me that our professional lives were a joke. I was miserable, depressed, and I allowed that place and the situation turn me into a bitter young woman whose outlook on life and people was cynical to say the least.
After the twins came along, the stress of trying to balance the care of three little ones under the age of 3 and that life-sucking job was too much and I quit. In February of next year it will be two years since I said good-bye to the working world and hello to full-time motherhood.
Today I heard from one of my dearest friends that still works for that company. There have been many changes in the department where I worked since I left and my friend has faced them all with tenacity and patience. Last week she finally received a much-deserved and long overdue promotion. I truly could not be happier for her. I know firsthand all the junk and the mess and the frustrations she's dealt with up to this point and I admire her perseverance.
But her good news has left me wondering, what am I doing? Seriously, WHAT AM I DOING? I think about her and I envy the fact that she still has this piece of her life that's just for her. This piece is hers to build on, shape, change, whatever she wants. When you're a stay-at-home mom, nothing is just yours. You share and you sacrifice everything--your time, your privacy, your looks, your relationships, your sanity, your confidence. In essence, it can also be a life-sucking job. And somehow I feel like I'm being left behind.
I don't mean to complain. This was my choice. But I feel like I'm at another crossroads in my life. What am I doing? I know working in a corporate setting isn't for me. And I know I need more to my life than just being a mom. And after the morning I had with the twins, I'm not so sure I'm very good at being "mom" anyway.
Sometimes I overwhelm myself thinking about all the various things I COULD do. My mind gets so clouded with different ideas it's like trying to look for the bottom of a muddy puddle--impossible to see for all the dirt and matter floating around. It's maddening and in the meantime, my wheels are spinning as I change diapers, wash dirty hands, kiss boo-boos, play referee, chauffeur, maid, chef. Oh yeah, and playing wife is somewhere in there, too. And so while life seems to be going on around me in fast-forward, I never. go. anywhere.
Then the self-doubt creeps in and I wonder if I'm cut out for anything other than the multitasking I do to make others' lives a little easier. But I feel like there's got to be something for me. I don't think God would have given me the fire in my belly to find it if there wasn't. It's just that the search is so frustrating. It's hard to believe that at almost 38 years old, I'm still struggling to figure out who I am. GRRRR!
But in the midst of my mom-life crisis, I'm just going to continue to pray that whatever "it" is for me will be revealed and that I won't be too clueless or busy to realize it.
After the twins came along, the stress of trying to balance the care of three little ones under the age of 3 and that life-sucking job was too much and I quit. In February of next year it will be two years since I said good-bye to the working world and hello to full-time motherhood.
Today I heard from one of my dearest friends that still works for that company. There have been many changes in the department where I worked since I left and my friend has faced them all with tenacity and patience. Last week she finally received a much-deserved and long overdue promotion. I truly could not be happier for her. I know firsthand all the junk and the mess and the frustrations she's dealt with up to this point and I admire her perseverance.
But her good news has left me wondering, what am I doing? Seriously, WHAT AM I DOING? I think about her and I envy the fact that she still has this piece of her life that's just for her. This piece is hers to build on, shape, change, whatever she wants. When you're a stay-at-home mom, nothing is just yours. You share and you sacrifice everything--your time, your privacy, your looks, your relationships, your sanity, your confidence. In essence, it can also be a life-sucking job. And somehow I feel like I'm being left behind.
I don't mean to complain. This was my choice. But I feel like I'm at another crossroads in my life. What am I doing? I know working in a corporate setting isn't for me. And I know I need more to my life than just being a mom. And after the morning I had with the twins, I'm not so sure I'm very good at being "mom" anyway.
Sometimes I overwhelm myself thinking about all the various things I COULD do. My mind gets so clouded with different ideas it's like trying to look for the bottom of a muddy puddle--impossible to see for all the dirt and matter floating around. It's maddening and in the meantime, my wheels are spinning as I change diapers, wash dirty hands, kiss boo-boos, play referee, chauffeur, maid, chef. Oh yeah, and playing wife is somewhere in there, too. And so while life seems to be going on around me in fast-forward, I never. go. anywhere.
Then the self-doubt creeps in and I wonder if I'm cut out for anything other than the multitasking I do to make others' lives a little easier. But I feel like there's got to be something for me. I don't think God would have given me the fire in my belly to find it if there wasn't. It's just that the search is so frustrating. It's hard to believe that at almost 38 years old, I'm still struggling to figure out who I am. GRRRR!
But in the midst of my mom-life crisis, I'm just going to continue to pray that whatever "it" is for me will be revealed and that I won't be too clueless or busy to realize it.
Friday, November 2, 2012
Halloween and whatnot
This week has been a crazy week for the Sheets family. I haven't even looked at my blog since last Friday!
It all started with Vincent getting sick. He had what we can only assume was a stomach bug. Tuesday night of last week he started feeling bad. And for the next five days he was SICK! Made several trips to the doctor for blood work. He missed 3 days of work. And for Vincent, that's saying something. The man never misses work. So you know when he does, it's serious. Finally by Monday of this week he started feeling like himself again. He went back to work a skinnier man--10 pounds down but a very hard way to come by it.
Then of course this week was all about Halloween. For weeks I stressed over costumes for the kids. Every year I try to come up with a cute theme for all of them. Two years ago, Olivia was Cat in the Hat and the twins were Thing 1 and Thing 2. Then last year Olivia was Dorothy, Colin was the Tin Man and Fia was Glinda the Good Witch. But each year it's been increasingly more difficult to come up with a suitable theme that incorporates two girls and boy. There are tons of things I could have done if I had one girl and two boys. But alas, I don't. So I finally decided to have Olivia go as Olivia--not herself but Olivia the pig, the cartoon/storybook character. The twins went as characters from Yo Gabba Gabba--DJ Lance and Foofa. And I finally came up with a theme for them, pitiful as it was: Nick Jr. characters. So sad. But it worked and everyone loved their costumes. DJ Lance was an especially big hit around the neighborhood!
I co-hosted Olivia's class Halloween party this year. It was a lot of fun! I hosted with another mom from her class. We made it very low-key and even found some ideas of Pinterest for snacks and party favors! That's about as Martha Stewart as I'll get all year. But it turned out very cute and the kids had fun! I was proud!
It's a tradition every year in our house for Vincent and I to watch the classic slasher flick, Halloween, on Halloween. Michael Myers' brutal murders of teenage babysitters brings a special kind of magic to Halloween that no other movie can. The hideous 70's fashion, sub-par script, raw quality and haunting score are all little gems that add to the movie's low-budget charm. It's definitely one of our all-time favorites and is on my list of scariest movies of all time. Well, I had to carry on the tradition alone this year. I watched the movie Halloween afternoon while the kids were sleeping and Vincent was at work. It was awesome--even if it was "edited for time and content" since it was on a network station.
It all started with Vincent getting sick. He had what we can only assume was a stomach bug. Tuesday night of last week he started feeling bad. And for the next five days he was SICK! Made several trips to the doctor for blood work. He missed 3 days of work. And for Vincent, that's saying something. The man never misses work. So you know when he does, it's serious. Finally by Monday of this week he started feeling like himself again. He went back to work a skinnier man--10 pounds down but a very hard way to come by it.
Then of course this week was all about Halloween. For weeks I stressed over costumes for the kids. Every year I try to come up with a cute theme for all of them. Two years ago, Olivia was Cat in the Hat and the twins were Thing 1 and Thing 2. Then last year Olivia was Dorothy, Colin was the Tin Man and Fia was Glinda the Good Witch. But each year it's been increasingly more difficult to come up with a suitable theme that incorporates two girls and boy. There are tons of things I could have done if I had one girl and two boys. But alas, I don't. So I finally decided to have Olivia go as Olivia--not herself but Olivia the pig, the cartoon/storybook character. The twins went as characters from Yo Gabba Gabba--DJ Lance and Foofa. And I finally came up with a theme for them, pitiful as it was: Nick Jr. characters. So sad. But it worked and everyone loved their costumes. DJ Lance was an especially big hit around the neighborhood!
 |
| DJ Lance says "Halloween is AWESOOOOOOME!" |
 |
| My sweet little Foofa--she's pink and happy. |
 |
| Can't believe they actually held hands |
 |
| Nick Jr. triple threat! |
I co-hosted Olivia's class Halloween party this year. It was a lot of fun! I hosted with another mom from her class. We made it very low-key and even found some ideas of Pinterest for snacks and party favors! That's about as Martha Stewart as I'll get all year. But it turned out very cute and the kids had fun! I was proud!
 |
| Olivia as Olivia the pig in the FIC Halloween parade. She's the second Olivia in the line! |
 |
| Her 2012-2013 class and wonderful teacher, Mrs. Liles |
 |
| Olivia and Daddy |
Then of course we had trick-or-treating that night for the kids. This was the first year the twins walked it and they did so well. They both walked almost the entire way. We went pretty far, too, and their little legs never quit. Seeing the grim reaper on the street didn't even phase them. Well, maybe just a little. It did me, too. By the end of the night, candy buckets were brimming with candy.
Halloween is such a grand time! It's the holiday that ushers in the fall season. It marks the beginning of the countdown to Christmas. You get to dress up and you get pounds and pounds of free candy! Scaring each other is the order of the day! It's just FUN! I think it will always be one of my favorite holidays! I'm already thinking about costumes for next year! That and making out the kids' Christmas lists.
Five Minute Friday--Roots
Go!
When I first think of roots, I think about pulling weeds in my yard. Why is it that the roots of weeds grow so deep? Pulling them up seems impossible. They twist and snap as I tug and yank and pull with all my might. The dirt flies everywhere.
My children have planted the same kind of roots in my heart. Impossible to remove. But my children are not weeds. They are the sweetest, most tender flowers of my soul. I'm thankful that roots are strong. I'm thankful that the rich soil of life is there to nurture them. To make them strong. The basis of my family tree. One that will branch out into eternity.
Stop!
Here's the scoop on Five Minute Friday from Lisa Jo herself:
When I first think of roots, I think about pulling weeds in my yard. Why is it that the roots of weeds grow so deep? Pulling them up seems impossible. They twist and snap as I tug and yank and pull with all my might. The dirt flies everywhere.
My children have planted the same kind of roots in my heart. Impossible to remove. But my children are not weeds. They are the sweetest, most tender flowers of my soul. I'm thankful that roots are strong. I'm thankful that the rich soil of life is there to nurture them. To make them strong. The basis of my family tree. One that will branch out into eternity.
Stop!
Here's the scoop on Five Minute Friday from Lisa Jo herself:
We write for five minutes flat. All on the same prompt that I post here at 1 minute past midnight EST ever Friday. And we connect on Twitter with the hashtag#FiveMinuteFriday
No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation.
Unscripted. Unedited. Real.
It started because I’d been thinking about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And I figured, why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.
So now on Fridays a group of people who love to throw caution to the wind and just write without worrying if it’s just right gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes.
Friday, October 26, 2012
Five Minute Friday--Voice
Go!
Talking
Laughing
Singing
Humming
Mumbling
Whispering
Yelling
Roaring
(Writing?)
No matter how we do it, God wants to hear our voice. Loud as a shout. Soft as a whisper. As long as we're talking to Him.
Sometimes it's hard for me remember that. I hate the sound of my own voice. It's nasal-y. I could never be an award winning singer. Forget award winning. Just carrying a tune is difficult. Sometimes it's hard for me to speak up, speak my mind, speak the truth. Why do I fear the sound of my own voice? After all, God is the one who gave it to me. He wants me to use it.
Writing is also a way to use my voice. One that I find a little more safe than the spoken word. Seeing words come to life in black and white feels good to me--better than hearing them on my lips. I hope that I can use the words that come through my fingers rather than out of my mouth to glorify God in some way. Still searching.....
Stop!
Here's the scoop on Five Minute Friday from Lisa Jo herself:
Talking
Laughing
Singing
Humming
Mumbling
Whispering
Yelling
Roaring
(Writing?)
No matter how we do it, God wants to hear our voice. Loud as a shout. Soft as a whisper. As long as we're talking to Him.
Sometimes it's hard for me remember that. I hate the sound of my own voice. It's nasal-y. I could never be an award winning singer. Forget award winning. Just carrying a tune is difficult. Sometimes it's hard for me to speak up, speak my mind, speak the truth. Why do I fear the sound of my own voice? After all, God is the one who gave it to me. He wants me to use it.
Writing is also a way to use my voice. One that I find a little more safe than the spoken word. Seeing words come to life in black and white feels good to me--better than hearing them on my lips. I hope that I can use the words that come through my fingers rather than out of my mouth to glorify God in some way. Still searching.....
Stop!
Here's the scoop on Five Minute Friday from Lisa Jo herself:
We write for five minutes flat. All on the same prompt that I post here at 1 minute past midnight EST ever Friday. And we connect on Twitter with the hashtag#FiveMinuteFriday
No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation.
Unscripted. Unedited. Real.
It started because I’d been thinking about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And I figured, why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.
So now on Fridays a group of people who love to throw caution to the wind and just write without worrying if it’s just right gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes.
Tuesday, October 23, 2012
Lessons From Breakfast
The twins are really pretty good eaters meaning they usually eat most things that are put in front of them. Or perhaps they've just trained me so well now that I've learned to offer only the things that they like. It's probably the latter, those sneaky kids! :) But either way, most meals are usually eaten without the "picky kid" drama that we still deal with from Olivia.
One morning I was feeding the kids breakfast and I peeled a banana for them. I cut it in half for them to share. I put one half on Colin's tray which he immediately grabbed and stuffed in his mouth. But when I tried to give the other half to Sofia, she resisted. I looked at her, raised my eyebrows and said, "No?" The only response I got was a super-angry frown complete with pouty bottom lip. That's not like her. She usually gobbles up bananas.
"Okay, she doesn't want it. She must be full now", I thought. So I put the other half on her brother's tray thinking he'd gladly finish it off. As soon as I did that, Sofia looked at me, obviously offended, pointed at it and said "I want 'nana!!!"
Sorry, sweet girl! I must have misunderstood that bottom lip! So I tried to hand her the same peeled banana half I had offered before. Again, I got the angry face but this time she also shook her head emphatically to tell me NO! And she pointed to the bunch of bananas on the counter and cried out, her voice like a screechy grackle bird, "I want 'nana!"
Finally I got it! She didn't want a peeled banana half. She wanted HER OWN banana, partially peeled, that she could hold herself and eat like a "big girl". Frustrated, I said to her, "Ugh, Sofia! Why isn't THIS banana good enough for you? It's the SAME THING!"
But it wasn't what she thought she wanted. And it made me think of how many times in my life I have done the same thing with God. He offers me a blessing, but it's not exactly what I want--or THINK I want--and I dig my heels in and tell Him it's not good enough. I want it the way I want it or I don't want it at all. I can think back on several times in my life where I did this. Sometimes I didn't realize I was doing it. Sometimes I just ignored the blessing or misinterpreted it. Other times I was just oblivious. But there were several instances where I fought Him tooth and nail to force things to be the way I wanted them to be. His plan was not good enough. And because I refused to see things His way or even entertain the thought that He may be right and I might be wrong, I paid a huge emotional price for it. But unlike the frustrated parent that I know I can be when my kids are obstinate, God's patience and faithfulness was constant. He gently nudged me along helping me find my way and held my hand as I stumbled down a path that I was trying to forge for myself. He still helps me make good of my life today despite all the poor choices I've made along the way.
Going forward, I know that I'll continue to mess up and make mistakes as I go through life. But going forward I plan to be on the lookout for God's blessings and receive them ALL with an open heart and open mind.
Friday, October 19, 2012
An open letter of apology to my husband
Dear Vincent,
Today the November 2012 issue of Better Homes and Gardens came in the mail. You know, the magazine that's about all things home decor and cooking that just randomly started showing up in our mailbox one day. Well I had a few seconds of downtime this afternoon (if you can believe that) and decided to read through this issue instead of tossing it or giving it to my mom like I normally do. Oh my. Let me tell you about some of the stuff in there! I saw "37 must-have recipes for a homemade Thanksgiving". I read about how to make the perfect pie crust. Also saw some really "creative touches for our holiday table". What holiday table, right? Are you laughing at the thought of me reading this yet? Don't feel bad for admitting it. I chuckled at myself, too. I admit that I enjoyed flipping through the pages and seeing what STYLISH homes look like and reading about what it takes to prepare a REAL meal. And yet with the turn of every page, felt less and less like a good wife. I am definitely no June Clever. Martha Stewart would laugh at me. Carol Brady would be disgusted by me--after all, she's got SIX kids! I'm less than ideal so I'm here to say I'm sorry to you--sorry that you married a girl:
*who will never don an apron while cooking dinner. If I spill something on my shirt, I'll just change shirts.
*who doesn't know how to cook a turkey.
*who's known to leave clean laundry in the dryer for several days and just pulls clothes out as-needed.
*who doesn't know how to bake a pie from scratch.
*who doesn't like to bake, period.
*whose idea of decorating is just copying styles out of a Pottery Barn catalog--and even then it doesn't look very good.
*who has about 5 meals in her current dinner rotation.
*who owns a sewing machine but used it one time to make 4 square throw pillows for her couch.
*who told you it was better that you iron your own shirts b/c I might ruin them.
*whose idea of cooking dinner usually involves at least one dish that comes out of a box, bag or Crock Pot.
*who will probably never have a complete set of her wedding china, flatware or stemware.
*who hates to vacuum the staircase so she never does.
*who may never get the twins' room painted.
*who will never be "the hostess with the mostest".
I know that I am hopelessly flawed and I am the complete antithesis of what the model wife should be. But before you start to reconsider your choice in life-mates, you should also know you married a girl:
*who loves her family more than she loves herself.
*who looks forward to all the Disney World vacations we're going to take with our kids.
*who thinks you are an amazing father.
*who loves that you are her best friend.
*who would rather spend time with you than anyone else.
*who appreciates and admires your work ethic.
*who loves your kind and generous nature.
*who is thankful to God for bringing you into her life.
*who thinks you are very intelligent.
*who prays for you.
*who puts you and the kids first.
*who loves to cook dinner with you.
*who is grateful for your technical expertise--especially when we have a computer crisis.
*who is thankful you never complain against her.
*who will love you for the rest of her life.
So maybe I should publish a magazine for all the wives out there like me--the poor man's Martha Stewart. Or maybe I should take a cooking class instead. Either way, I know I'm not the perfect wife, Vincent. But I'm YOUR wife. And I couldn't be any prouder. Thanks for loving me, for being wonderful you and always being there for me!
Love Forever,
Allison
Today the November 2012 issue of Better Homes and Gardens came in the mail. You know, the magazine that's about all things home decor and cooking that just randomly started showing up in our mailbox one day. Well I had a few seconds of downtime this afternoon (if you can believe that) and decided to read through this issue instead of tossing it or giving it to my mom like I normally do. Oh my. Let me tell you about some of the stuff in there! I saw "37 must-have recipes for a homemade Thanksgiving". I read about how to make the perfect pie crust. Also saw some really "creative touches for our holiday table". What holiday table, right? Are you laughing at the thought of me reading this yet? Don't feel bad for admitting it. I chuckled at myself, too. I admit that I enjoyed flipping through the pages and seeing what STYLISH homes look like and reading about what it takes to prepare a REAL meal. And yet with the turn of every page, felt less and less like a good wife. I am definitely no June Clever. Martha Stewart would laugh at me. Carol Brady would be disgusted by me--after all, she's got SIX kids! I'm less than ideal so I'm here to say I'm sorry to you--sorry that you married a girl:
*who will never don an apron while cooking dinner. If I spill something on my shirt, I'll just change shirts.
*who doesn't know how to cook a turkey.
*who's known to leave clean laundry in the dryer for several days and just pulls clothes out as-needed.
*who doesn't know how to bake a pie from scratch.
*who doesn't like to bake, period.
*whose idea of decorating is just copying styles out of a Pottery Barn catalog--and even then it doesn't look very good.
*who has about 5 meals in her current dinner rotation.
*who owns a sewing machine but used it one time to make 4 square throw pillows for her couch.
*who told you it was better that you iron your own shirts b/c I might ruin them.
*whose idea of cooking dinner usually involves at least one dish that comes out of a box, bag or Crock Pot.
*who will probably never have a complete set of her wedding china, flatware or stemware.
*who hates to vacuum the staircase so she never does.
*who may never get the twins' room painted.
*who will never be "the hostess with the mostest".
I know that I am hopelessly flawed and I am the complete antithesis of what the model wife should be. But before you start to reconsider your choice in life-mates, you should also know you married a girl:
*who loves her family more than she loves herself.
*who looks forward to all the Disney World vacations we're going to take with our kids.
*who thinks you are an amazing father.
*who loves that you are her best friend.
*who would rather spend time with you than anyone else.
*who appreciates and admires your work ethic.
*who loves your kind and generous nature.
*who is thankful to God for bringing you into her life.
*who thinks you are very intelligent.
*who prays for you.
*who puts you and the kids first.
*who loves to cook dinner with you.
*who is grateful for your technical expertise--especially when we have a computer crisis.
*who is thankful you never complain against her.
*who will love you for the rest of her life.
So maybe I should publish a magazine for all the wives out there like me--the poor man's Martha Stewart. Or maybe I should take a cooking class instead. Either way, I know I'm not the perfect wife, Vincent. But I'm YOUR wife. And I couldn't be any prouder. Thanks for loving me, for being wonderful you and always being there for me!
Love Forever,
Allison
Five Minute Friday--Look
Go!
"What does not satisfy when we find it was not the thing we were desiring." C.S. Lewis
Human beings spend so much time looking for things--lost car keys, a good TV show to watch on Monday evening, a new job, true love. In all the searching, we still seem to come up empty. Whether we never find our missing car keys or we go through life never feeling like we've met our soul mate.
Seek and ye shall find.
The best thing we can look for and that we're guaranteed to find is God and His love. He will never leave us. He's the one constant in our lives that we can count on. Finding him will ensure we find all the other pieces in our lives that we cannot seem to find on our own. What a great blessing is this!
Stop!
Here's the scoop on Five Minute Friday from Lisa Jo herself:
"What does not satisfy when we find it was not the thing we were desiring." C.S. Lewis
Human beings spend so much time looking for things--lost car keys, a good TV show to watch on Monday evening, a new job, true love. In all the searching, we still seem to come up empty. Whether we never find our missing car keys or we go through life never feeling like we've met our soul mate.
Seek and ye shall find.
The best thing we can look for and that we're guaranteed to find is God and His love. He will never leave us. He's the one constant in our lives that we can count on. Finding him will ensure we find all the other pieces in our lives that we cannot seem to find on our own. What a great blessing is this!
Stop!
Here's the scoop on Five Minute Friday from Lisa Jo herself:
We write for five minutes flat. All on the same prompt that I post here at 1 minute past midnight EST ever Friday. And we connect on Twitter with the hashtag#FiveMinuteFriday
No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation.
Unscripted. Unedited. Real.
It started because I’d been thinking about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And I figured, why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.
So now on Fridays a group of people who love to throw caution to the wind and just write without worrying if it’s just right gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes.
Wednesday, October 17, 2012
Time for a Facebook hiatus?
Two things are very evident to me today:
1. Politics--especially the presidential election--brings out the worst in most people.
2. Facebook is beating me down.
Now combine Facebook with politics (in this case, the 2012 presidential election) and you have a perfect storm of BS. And the BS storm of Facebook is beating me down. Well, Facebook itself isn't beating me down. The people on it are. It seems that I can't log on these days without seeing at least 100 negative political posts in my news feed at any given time. Ok, I exaggerate. But it's A LOT. And by 'negative' I mean the posts that involve name-calling and finger-pointing. You know, general third grade behavior.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not speaking to all Facebook users who post entries that are political in nature. In all fairness, some posts are genuine attempts at providing facts about the candidates, their policies, etc. and are what I consider to be fairly innocuous (as innocuous as a political statement can be). Some people are even willing to concede that their candidate of choice may not have all the right and/or best answers. These folks don't seem to be out to attack any one person or group of people. They are passionate about their beliefs. But they are passionate and respectful at the same time. And I respect that. And I have no problem with these people. In other words, there is some intelligent, thought-provoking political commentary out there.
But finding those little nuggets of sanity is like trying to mine for social media gold.
Most of what I see is what my very good friend calls "political vitriol". Anyone with a Facebook account knows exactly what I'm talking about. There's nothing redeeming about these posts. They're full of negativity, nastiness and in some cases, downright hatred. I think more so than promoting their political philosophies, these hateful people are just trying to appear intelligent and satisfy their overweening egos. And politics is just as good an excuse as any to spew their arrogance and hatred. They bait their Facebook status "hooks" just daring someone with an opposing opinion to bite. And when someone is foolish enough to take the bait, a back-and-forth Facebook duel begins. Sometimes words are spoken with such venom and anger you can feel it. Why all the anger? Each person tries to outwit the other with his/her vast political knowledge but really most of the time they just end up looking like jerks because they've resorted to name calling, cursing and other childish behaviors. Makes me tired just thinking about it.
While I'm on the subject, what I've never understood is why people even throw out political opinions in general on a social media outlet like Facebook--as if anyone cares what they think. Most people out there are probably already rooted in their political beliefs, right? So what any one person has to say contrary to those beliefs isn't going to change the other person's mind--especially on a forum like Facebook. So what's the point? Just for the sake of the argument? I think part of it is that it's easy to go toe-to-toe with someone when you're essentially arguing with a screen instead of a person. And if you've picked an argument with someone you don't know, the veil of anonymity allows for safe arrow slinging. And what's actually comical to me is that people are SO convinced that their candidate is the better man and the other is evil. They are adamant that their candidate is brilliant and the other an imbecile. They swear that their candidate's ideas and policies are the answers to the country's problems and the other's are merely fodder. Do they not realize what they are saying about their golden boy are the exact same things that "the other side" is saying about their golden boy? Makes for a pretty flimsy argument if you ask me. But I digress. Such is the typical mess that goes along with an election year. This part--the "my-party-is-better-than-your-party" attitude--never changes and I can accept that. I can also accept that more often than not, it's going to show up on Facebook. But the outright nastiness and hatred I've been seeing for the last several months, I can do without.
So to all you Negative Nellies, Naysayers and No-Wayers out there: stop using Facebook as your political soapbox--especially if you're going to act like my 11 year old nephew when you do it! But now that I think about it, to make that comparison degrades my nephew. He's not mean or hateful, just merely a child. So people, try having MATURE and INTELLIGENT debates and discussions with your adversaries during a phone conversation or (gasp) face-to-face. Verbally duke it out via text message if that's your thing. Just leave those of us who do not go to Facebook to get our political information out of it! Thank you!
1. Politics--especially the presidential election--brings out the worst in most people.
2. Facebook is beating me down.
Now combine Facebook with politics (in this case, the 2012 presidential election) and you have a perfect storm of BS. And the BS storm of Facebook is beating me down. Well, Facebook itself isn't beating me down. The people on it are. It seems that I can't log on these days without seeing at least 100 negative political posts in my news feed at any given time. Ok, I exaggerate. But it's A LOT. And by 'negative' I mean the posts that involve name-calling and finger-pointing. You know, general third grade behavior.
Now don't get me wrong, I'm not speaking to all Facebook users who post entries that are political in nature. In all fairness, some posts are genuine attempts at providing facts about the candidates, their policies, etc. and are what I consider to be fairly innocuous (as innocuous as a political statement can be). Some people are even willing to concede that their candidate of choice may not have all the right and/or best answers. These folks don't seem to be out to attack any one person or group of people. They are passionate about their beliefs. But they are passionate and respectful at the same time. And I respect that. And I have no problem with these people. In other words, there is some intelligent, thought-provoking political commentary out there.
But finding those little nuggets of sanity is like trying to mine for social media gold.
Most of what I see is what my very good friend calls "political vitriol". Anyone with a Facebook account knows exactly what I'm talking about. There's nothing redeeming about these posts. They're full of negativity, nastiness and in some cases, downright hatred. I think more so than promoting their political philosophies, these hateful people are just trying to appear intelligent and satisfy their overweening egos. And politics is just as good an excuse as any to spew their arrogance and hatred. They bait their Facebook status "hooks" just daring someone with an opposing opinion to bite. And when someone is foolish enough to take the bait, a back-and-forth Facebook duel begins. Sometimes words are spoken with such venom and anger you can feel it. Why all the anger? Each person tries to outwit the other with his/her vast political knowledge but really most of the time they just end up looking like jerks because they've resorted to name calling, cursing and other childish behaviors. Makes me tired just thinking about it.
While I'm on the subject, what I've never understood is why people even throw out political opinions in general on a social media outlet like Facebook--as if anyone cares what they think. Most people out there are probably already rooted in their political beliefs, right? So what any one person has to say contrary to those beliefs isn't going to change the other person's mind--especially on a forum like Facebook. So what's the point? Just for the sake of the argument? I think part of it is that it's easy to go toe-to-toe with someone when you're essentially arguing with a screen instead of a person. And if you've picked an argument with someone you don't know, the veil of anonymity allows for safe arrow slinging. And what's actually comical to me is that people are SO convinced that their candidate is the better man and the other is evil. They are adamant that their candidate is brilliant and the other an imbecile. They swear that their candidate's ideas and policies are the answers to the country's problems and the other's are merely fodder. Do they not realize what they are saying about their golden boy are the exact same things that "the other side" is saying about their golden boy? Makes for a pretty flimsy argument if you ask me. But I digress. Such is the typical mess that goes along with an election year. This part--the "my-party-is-better-than-your-party" attitude--never changes and I can accept that. I can also accept that more often than not, it's going to show up on Facebook. But the outright nastiness and hatred I've been seeing for the last several months, I can do without.
So to all you Negative Nellies, Naysayers and No-Wayers out there: stop using Facebook as your political soapbox--especially if you're going to act like my 11 year old nephew when you do it! But now that I think about it, to make that comparison degrades my nephew. He's not mean or hateful, just merely a child. So people, try having MATURE and INTELLIGENT debates and discussions with your adversaries during a phone conversation or (gasp) face-to-face. Verbally duke it out via text message if that's your thing. Just leave those of us who do not go to Facebook to get our political information out of it! Thank you!
Friday, October 12, 2012
Five Minute Friday--Race
Go!
Race--meaning one's ethnic background--will always be of importance to me. You see, my husband is black. I am white. Our children are a beautiful blend of the both of us. Of course I think that. I am a mother.
But how will society treat my children? Will they grow up knowing they are loved and accepted by others for who THEY are and NOT who their parents are? This will always be my fear. It was my fear before I even had children with my husband. I know the best thing I can do is remind them every day that they are children of God FIRST. And that they were loved and accepted by Him before they were even born. God will always be for them. He loves them for who they are--because they are our children. Wonderful, sweet kids. I hope everyone takes the time to get to know them.
Stop!
Here's the scoop on Five Minute Friday from Lisa Jo herself:
Race--meaning one's ethnic background--will always be of importance to me. You see, my husband is black. I am white. Our children are a beautiful blend of the both of us. Of course I think that. I am a mother.
But how will society treat my children? Will they grow up knowing they are loved and accepted by others for who THEY are and NOT who their parents are? This will always be my fear. It was my fear before I even had children with my husband. I know the best thing I can do is remind them every day that they are children of God FIRST. And that they were loved and accepted by Him before they were even born. God will always be for them. He loves them for who they are--because they are our children. Wonderful, sweet kids. I hope everyone takes the time to get to know them.
Stop!
Here's the scoop on Five Minute Friday from Lisa Jo herself:
We write for five minutes flat. All on the same prompt that I post here at 1 minute past midnight EST ever Friday. And we connect on Twitter with the hashtag#FiveMinuteFriday
No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation.
Unscripted. Unedited. Real.
It started because I’d been thinking about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And I figured, why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.
So now on Fridays a group of people who love to throw caution to the wind and just write without worrying if it’s just right gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes.
Thursday, October 11, 2012
Pneumonia
Well, for the last 5 days pneumonia has been ruling my life. And it's ruled with an iron fist. Have you ever had it? First timer right here. And it's been pretty bad. I started feeling bad on Sunday afternoon. I was really, really tired. But it went beyond just being physically overworked. It was taking real effort to move. I've had that feeling before and it's always come just before my body succumbs to some illness that robs me of me for a while. Since this icky feeling wasn't new to me, I was willing to bet something was about to hit. I just didn't know it was gonna be a sucker punch to the gut--or in this case, to the chest.
On Monday morning, I was supposed to take the kids to a MOPS play date at a local pumpkin farm. We were supposed to be there at 9am--early for those of us with 3 kids under the age of 5. After a very fitful night's sleep, I tried to get out of bed that morning and each limb of body felt like it weighed 2 tons and my entire lower body ached. I managed to drag myself into the shower and actually put a little make up on. But I couldn't overcome the weakness that I felt. I went upstairs to get the kids out of bed and each step up those stairs was brutal. I had to hold on to the rail as if I was an elderly woman. My legs hurt as if I was running a 5K, not climbing a simple flight of stairs (yes, for ME running a 5K invokes pain. Stop laughing). And by the time I got to the top of the stairs, my body felt like Jell-O--all wobbly and unsteady. But I managed to get everyone downstairs without passing out even thought I felt like I was going to.
My next thought was that eating breakfast would be the solution and give me that much-needed energy boost. Luckily Vincent had the day off from work it being Columbus Day and all (thank you, banker's holidays). He was helping feed the kids breakfast while I trudged around the kitchen, my fuzzy slippers scratching across the tile floor because I couldn't muster up the energy to actually pick up my feet. I made my customary breakfast of a protein shake and drank that down quickly hoping I'd instantly perk up. Nope. I was just as drained. At that point, the thought of having to dig down deep and somehow find the energy to load the kids into the car, much less chase them around a farm for a couple of hours, was just too much. The weakness was so debilitating, I swear I could literally hear my body tell me I AM NOT DOING THAT TODAY SO JUST FORGET IT! So I bailed on the play date and immediately went back to bed. I slept for a couple of hours. I woke up feeling just as exhausted. I knew something bad was happening. I took my temperature and sure enough, I had a fever. My first thought was THE FLU! EEEK! The dreaded flu! I figured that's all it could be since my only symptoms were fatigue, fever and muscle aches...well, and an occasional cough here and there but I just kind of blew that off. And I was kicking myself for having not already gotten my annual flu shot. Knowing I was going to need Tamiflu, stat, I made an appointment at one of those out-patient treatment centers, AKA "Doc-in-the-box" or as we used to call the on-campus clinic at Baylor back in the day, "The Quack Shack", since it was after hours and my doctor's office was already closed.
Since I had already self-diagnosed in my mind, I had The Quack Shack test me for the flu. Negative. What the ??? Then what else could it be?? I had joked around earlier that day that I probably had West Nile. Would I be sorry for that now?? Had I jinxed myself??? The doctor suggested I do blood work and take a chest X ray since I had mentioned my cough to him--as an afterthought, of course. I reluctantly agreed thinking this was going to be a waste of my precious time. So I got zapped and pricked. And I waited.
Diagnosis: PNEUMONIA.
What?! I was barely coughing! Aren't you supposed to hack your lungs out with that illness? But the doctor explained there were some spots on my lungs in the Xray and the results of my blood work suggested a bacterial infection but that we had probably caught it early. Nice. So two antibiotic prescriptions later I'm home in bed feeling like...well, someone who had pneumonia, which is to say really crappy. But still not really coughing. Well that changed in less than 24 hours. By the next morning I had all the typical symptoms: fatigue, chest tightness, fever and COUGH. I felt awful! Now luckily for me, my prince-of-a-husband stayed home to take care of the kids while I hacked and coughed and moaned and groaned. No, I'm not a very good patient. And despite that fact which is no doubt unpleasant for him, he stayed home yesterday as well! What a good man!
So that's been my life for the last 5 days. I'm fever free today for the first time since Monday. Maybe I'm starting to turn a corner now. I hope. And while I had it bad, I haven't had it as bad as some and thank God I never had to go to the hospital as I understand some do when it gets out of control. I still feel pretty tired and achy today but I went ahead and sent Vincent on to work. I think he was going crazy here with our 3 ring circus.
Needless to say I haven't felt much like blogging, writing, reading, meditating--basically I haven't felt like participating in life this week. I mean, you know you're in a bad way when washing your hair is the biggest feat you accomplish in a day. But having the down time gave me a chance to think about some of the things I eventually do want to write about on my blog. So I got out a notebook and started to jot down ideas and flesh them out a bit. We'll see what comes out of it.
On Monday morning, I was supposed to take the kids to a MOPS play date at a local pumpkin farm. We were supposed to be there at 9am--early for those of us with 3 kids under the age of 5. After a very fitful night's sleep, I tried to get out of bed that morning and each limb of body felt like it weighed 2 tons and my entire lower body ached. I managed to drag myself into the shower and actually put a little make up on. But I couldn't overcome the weakness that I felt. I went upstairs to get the kids out of bed and each step up those stairs was brutal. I had to hold on to the rail as if I was an elderly woman. My legs hurt as if I was running a 5K, not climbing a simple flight of stairs (yes, for ME running a 5K invokes pain. Stop laughing). And by the time I got to the top of the stairs, my body felt like Jell-O--all wobbly and unsteady. But I managed to get everyone downstairs without passing out even thought I felt like I was going to.
My next thought was that eating breakfast would be the solution and give me that much-needed energy boost. Luckily Vincent had the day off from work it being Columbus Day and all (thank you, banker's holidays). He was helping feed the kids breakfast while I trudged around the kitchen, my fuzzy slippers scratching across the tile floor because I couldn't muster up the energy to actually pick up my feet. I made my customary breakfast of a protein shake and drank that down quickly hoping I'd instantly perk up. Nope. I was just as drained. At that point, the thought of having to dig down deep and somehow find the energy to load the kids into the car, much less chase them around a farm for a couple of hours, was just too much. The weakness was so debilitating, I swear I could literally hear my body tell me I AM NOT DOING THAT TODAY SO JUST FORGET IT! So I bailed on the play date and immediately went back to bed. I slept for a couple of hours. I woke up feeling just as exhausted. I knew something bad was happening. I took my temperature and sure enough, I had a fever. My first thought was THE FLU! EEEK! The dreaded flu! I figured that's all it could be since my only symptoms were fatigue, fever and muscle aches...well, and an occasional cough here and there but I just kind of blew that off. And I was kicking myself for having not already gotten my annual flu shot. Knowing I was going to need Tamiflu, stat, I made an appointment at one of those out-patient treatment centers, AKA "Doc-in-the-box" or as we used to call the on-campus clinic at Baylor back in the day, "The Quack Shack", since it was after hours and my doctor's office was already closed.
Since I had already self-diagnosed in my mind, I had The Quack Shack test me for the flu. Negative. What the ??? Then what else could it be?? I had joked around earlier that day that I probably had West Nile. Would I be sorry for that now?? Had I jinxed myself??? The doctor suggested I do blood work and take a chest X ray since I had mentioned my cough to him--as an afterthought, of course. I reluctantly agreed thinking this was going to be a waste of my precious time. So I got zapped and pricked. And I waited.
Diagnosis: PNEUMONIA.
What?! I was barely coughing! Aren't you supposed to hack your lungs out with that illness? But the doctor explained there were some spots on my lungs in the Xray and the results of my blood work suggested a bacterial infection but that we had probably caught it early. Nice. So two antibiotic prescriptions later I'm home in bed feeling like...well, someone who had pneumonia, which is to say really crappy. But still not really coughing. Well that changed in less than 24 hours. By the next morning I had all the typical symptoms: fatigue, chest tightness, fever and COUGH. I felt awful! Now luckily for me, my prince-of-a-husband stayed home to take care of the kids while I hacked and coughed and moaned and groaned. No, I'm not a very good patient. And despite that fact which is no doubt unpleasant for him, he stayed home yesterday as well! What a good man!
So that's been my life for the last 5 days. I'm fever free today for the first time since Monday. Maybe I'm starting to turn a corner now. I hope. And while I had it bad, I haven't had it as bad as some and thank God I never had to go to the hospital as I understand some do when it gets out of control. I still feel pretty tired and achy today but I went ahead and sent Vincent on to work. I think he was going crazy here with our 3 ring circus.
Needless to say I haven't felt much like blogging, writing, reading, meditating--basically I haven't felt like participating in life this week. I mean, you know you're in a bad way when washing your hair is the biggest feat you accomplish in a day. But having the down time gave me a chance to think about some of the things I eventually do want to write about on my blog. So I got out a notebook and started to jot down ideas and flesh them out a bit. We'll see what comes out of it.
Friday, October 5, 2012
Five Minute Friday--Welcome
Go!
Welcome means to accept somebody into your life, your home, etc with open arms. I grew up as a child who only went to church on major holidays. I called myself a Christian but wasn't a very faithful believer. I went to a very large, very affluent church as a child and young adult. Being from a single-parent household, we never had a lot so I never felt like I fit in at my church. My insecurities kept me from feeling welcome in the house of God. As a newly married woman, church was never high on priority list. Then my children came along and that changed. My family and I found a church in the town where we live and we love it. I have always felt a sense of belonging there. Like I was finally welcome. What always strikes me as wonderful is that when we take communion every Sunday, our pastor says everyone is welcome at God's table. And I know he's talking to me. God wants to welcome me to the feast. And for that, I am truly thankful.
Stop!
Here's the scoop on Five Minute Friday from Lisa Jo herself:
Welcome means to accept somebody into your life, your home, etc with open arms. I grew up as a child who only went to church on major holidays. I called myself a Christian but wasn't a very faithful believer. I went to a very large, very affluent church as a child and young adult. Being from a single-parent household, we never had a lot so I never felt like I fit in at my church. My insecurities kept me from feeling welcome in the house of God. As a newly married woman, church was never high on priority list. Then my children came along and that changed. My family and I found a church in the town where we live and we love it. I have always felt a sense of belonging there. Like I was finally welcome. What always strikes me as wonderful is that when we take communion every Sunday, our pastor says everyone is welcome at God's table. And I know he's talking to me. God wants to welcome me to the feast. And for that, I am truly thankful.
Stop!
Here's the scoop on Five Minute Friday from Lisa Jo herself:
We write for five minutes flat. All on the same prompt that I post here at 1 minute past midnight EST ever Friday. And we connect on Twitter with the hashtag#FiveMinuteFriday
No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation.
Unscripted. Unedited. Real.
It started because I’d been thinking about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And I figured, why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.
So now on Fridays a group of people who love to throw caution to the wind and just write without worrying if it’s just right gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes.
Thursday, October 4, 2012
Olivia, my tiny dancer
Miss Olivia started ballet/tap combo class a couple of weeks ago. This is her second year at the same studio. Her teachers tell me she's an excellent student--always listening and always tries her best!
I hope I can eventually figure out how to post video clips on here because I have some cute ones of her doing some ballet and tap combinations and practicing her leaps.
 |
| Olivia and her teacher, Ms. Arrica |
 |
| Ready for class |
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| Butterfly day |
I really hope Olivia grows to love dance as much as I did (and still do). I didn't get involved in dance until I was 15 years old--a geriatric in terms of dancing. So I really only learned the basics and never advanced any further. And my passion for it waaaay exceeded my abilities. I knew it, too. I danced with girls that were light years ahead of me in terms of technique. But I still danced because I loved it so much. My dream still to this day is to be a dancer/performer on Broadway. But that ship sailed many, many, MANY moons ago, not that I ever had a real shot at it in the first place.
Now my dream is modified. I would love to see Olivia become the dancer I never could be. I'm so glad we're able to put her in lessons now when she's still a child. I hope that her teachers can encourage her, help her develop her talent and foster in her that love of dance that still lives in my heart. But as much as I'd like to see her fulfill my dream (and yes, I know it's MY dream), I know my job as a parent is to help her discover her own dreams and realize them. And that's exactly what I intend to do. God has a purpose for her in this world--one that is unique to her. And my ULTIMATE dream for her is that through God, she discovers what that purpose is and she lives for it, breathes it and owns it every day of her life. What a joy that will be! And if it just happens to be dance, then even better! :)
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Conflicted
I just realized today that my 20 year HS reunion is in 9 months. And I'm really having trouble making sense of how I feel about this. I find it hard not to immediately think of the standard cliches dealing with aging and the passing of time. I really hate to go there in my writing but I really can't think of any other way to articulate how I feel. In some ways, 20 years has truly flown by. Some of my memories from high school are so vivid, it's as if they happened yesterday and while I'm still young at heart, I have to remind myself that I'm not as young as I think (or feel) I am anymore. But in other ways, so much has happened to me in these 20 years that thinking about it all overwhelms me and makes me tired. Like I've done a lifetime's-worth of living in 20 years. And I can't decide if being 20 years older is a good thing or not. I mean, it's certainly better than the alternative, but aren't we all supposed to want to be 'forever young' as the song suggests?
So does this mean I'm on the brink of a mid-life crisis? I don't know. Father Time is messing with me and surely he's getting a chuckle out of it at my expense.
All I really know is that I'm conflicted. Conflicted not only about how I feel about being out of high school for 20 years, but also about what I've done with that time I was given. What have I accomplished? Has it really meant anything to me and to others? If I died tomorrow, what would people say about me and my life? I feel like I've done okay for myself but according to whom? What standards do I use to evaluate these things? I think what stands out the most as I reflect on this is that practically every decision I have ever made in my life has been based on the reliance of my own "wisdom". I hardly ever went to God in prayer about anything. I never prayed about what college I should attend, what major I should choose, if I should go to graduate school or not, and for 13 long years, I didn't pray about the awful, bitter feelings I had about the one and only real job I ever had. I never sought His guidance and I think that's pretty significant (and not in a good way). I've just been kind of muddling through life living off the fruits of dumb luck which incidentally aren't that great. This is not how I want to live the next 20 years of my life. I want more. I want authentic purpose--the kind that I believe only God can help me find--so that perhaps I can go to my 40 year reunion with amazing stories to share!
So does this mean I'm on the brink of a mid-life crisis? I don't know. Father Time is messing with me and surely he's getting a chuckle out of it at my expense.
All I really know is that I'm conflicted. Conflicted not only about how I feel about being out of high school for 20 years, but also about what I've done with that time I was given. What have I accomplished? Has it really meant anything to me and to others? If I died tomorrow, what would people say about me and my life? I feel like I've done okay for myself but according to whom? What standards do I use to evaluate these things? I think what stands out the most as I reflect on this is that practically every decision I have ever made in my life has been based on the reliance of my own "wisdom". I hardly ever went to God in prayer about anything. I never prayed about what college I should attend, what major I should choose, if I should go to graduate school or not, and for 13 long years, I didn't pray about the awful, bitter feelings I had about the one and only real job I ever had. I never sought His guidance and I think that's pretty significant (and not in a good way). I've just been kind of muddling through life living off the fruits of dumb luck which incidentally aren't that great. This is not how I want to live the next 20 years of my life. I want more. I want authentic purpose--the kind that I believe only God can help me find--so that perhaps I can go to my 40 year reunion with amazing stories to share!
Sunday, September 30, 2012
Hide 'n' Go Seek and Panic Attacks
If I didn't realize it before, I do now. Colin is my dare devil. My adventure seeker. My brave-to-a-fault child who isn't going to look before he leaps. People keep telling me that's because he's a boy and all boys are like that. Not sure I completely buy into that gender stereotype but neither of his sisters is like this so maybe those people are on to something. He's always been a climber and a jumper. One that naturally gravitates towards playing with knives and scissors (but thankfully I've learned to keep those things way out of his reach). He was the first to climb the stairs and also the first to fall down them. I imagine he'd be all for skydiving if he even knew what that was. This boy is fearless....completely the OPPOSITE of his mama! I don't like adventure--well the kind that could be life threatening, that is. I hate roller coasters. Not a huge fan of flying. Boats make me nervous. And for as long as I can remember, I have been the type to look before I leap. And I mean a SERIOUS looker. Oftentimes I look for so long and so hard that I forget why I'm even looking in the first place! So for me, having a child like Colin is a challenge to say the least--mostly because I don't get those adventurous-types.
As I type this, I'm reminded of a quote from the Steve Martin remake of the 1950 classic film Father of the Bride (which incidentally is NOT as good as the original Spencer Tracy version. But I digress). This pretty much sums me up as a parent, too:
"I've always been a concerned parent. I'm big on car seats, seat belts, bed times, curfews, calling when you get somewhere, never running with a sharp object."
That's totally me, y'all. Maybe to a fault. Given this personality flaw...er...trait, I'm always watching over my kids like a hawk. But today I guess I wasn't watching close enough. After church, a big group of us (us being other parents with young kids) stands around in the church's gym to chit chat and let the kids play. Today was no different except that today in the few seconds we weren't watching, Colin disappeared. I wasn't concerned as I began the search for him because I figured he had just ducked into one of the gym's classrooms. But my initial search came up empty. I got Vincent involved. I ran upstairs while he searched downstairs. No Colin. Other parents began to see the concern on my face and they joined in the search. I checked parking lots. Nothing. Panic didn't really set in until I saw the look of concern on Vincent's face. He's the calm one in this relationship--the one that helps keep my neuroses in check. When Vincent's scared, I know it's time to hit the panic button. And hit it I did. I began to imagine all the awful things that could have happened to my boy. I don't even want to go there again by writing them down. But I'm sure any other parent reading this knows the places my brain was going. Not fun. Finally I as I was headed to the playground thinking maybe he went there for some fun, I hear someone say "tell mom we found him". RELIEF!! I walk out the doors of the gym to see one of the nursery workers walking him back. He was happy as a clam. He had walked all the way from our church's gym back to the building where the nursery is. That's a long way--like a mile in a two year old's world. But he got it in his mind that he wanted to go back there and he did. And took about 5 years off my life in the process. It took me a while to come down off that awful, fear-generated adrenaline rush. I had a headache and a stomach ache.
I can't help feeling like I had a "failed mom" moment today. I keep playing the 'what if' game. All I can say is thank God that He was watching over Colin. Thank you, God, that while I was having a stupid, very human moment, You were keeping my boy safe. Sometimes I still wonder why You made me the mother of anyone--especially after days like today. But I know You gave me these little blessings for a reason. I believe You thought that I'd be just the right the mother for these three. Perhaps Colin and I can learn something from one another. Maybe Colin can teach his mom a thing or two about being a little more adventurous. And I think I will teach him how to dial 911!
As I type this, I'm reminded of a quote from the Steve Martin remake of the 1950 classic film Father of the Bride (which incidentally is NOT as good as the original Spencer Tracy version. But I digress). This pretty much sums me up as a parent, too:
"I've always been a concerned parent. I'm big on car seats, seat belts, bed times, curfews, calling when you get somewhere, never running with a sharp object."
That's totally me, y'all. Maybe to a fault. Given this personality flaw...er...trait, I'm always watching over my kids like a hawk. But today I guess I wasn't watching close enough. After church, a big group of us (us being other parents with young kids) stands around in the church's gym to chit chat and let the kids play. Today was no different except that today in the few seconds we weren't watching, Colin disappeared. I wasn't concerned as I began the search for him because I figured he had just ducked into one of the gym's classrooms. But my initial search came up empty. I got Vincent involved. I ran upstairs while he searched downstairs. No Colin. Other parents began to see the concern on my face and they joined in the search. I checked parking lots. Nothing. Panic didn't really set in until I saw the look of concern on Vincent's face. He's the calm one in this relationship--the one that helps keep my neuroses in check. When Vincent's scared, I know it's time to hit the panic button. And hit it I did. I began to imagine all the awful things that could have happened to my boy. I don't even want to go there again by writing them down. But I'm sure any other parent reading this knows the places my brain was going. Not fun. Finally I as I was headed to the playground thinking maybe he went there for some fun, I hear someone say "tell mom we found him". RELIEF!! I walk out the doors of the gym to see one of the nursery workers walking him back. He was happy as a clam. He had walked all the way from our church's gym back to the building where the nursery is. That's a long way--like a mile in a two year old's world. But he got it in his mind that he wanted to go back there and he did. And took about 5 years off my life in the process. It took me a while to come down off that awful, fear-generated adrenaline rush. I had a headache and a stomach ache.
I can't help feeling like I had a "failed mom" moment today. I keep playing the 'what if' game. All I can say is thank God that He was watching over Colin. Thank you, God, that while I was having a stupid, very human moment, You were keeping my boy safe. Sometimes I still wonder why You made me the mother of anyone--especially after days like today. But I know You gave me these little blessings for a reason. I believe You thought that I'd be just the right the mother for these three. Perhaps Colin and I can learn something from one another. Maybe Colin can teach his mom a thing or two about being a little more adventurous. And I think I will teach him how to dial 911!
Friday, September 28, 2012
Five Minute Friday--Grasp
Go!
Sofia, your sweet little hand grasped my finger. You pulled me along saying "Come mere, Mama." I got butterflies in my stomach b/c I was reminded of how in love with you I am. You are my precious littlest baby. I wanted to grasp that moment in time and freeze it. So I would always remember it. I don't want to forget these times when you love me so much that I am your whole world. One day when you're a teenager and don't want to have anything to do with me, it's those tiny moments I'll grasp on to. It will make my heart smile and hurt as I realize my baby is growing up. Until then, I will hold onto you, Colin and Olivia with all my might. You are my reasons for being. That alone is an overwhelming concept to grasp! Mind blowing!
Stop!
Here's the scoop on Five Minute Fridays from Lisa Jo herself:
Sofia, your sweet little hand grasped my finger. You pulled me along saying "Come mere, Mama." I got butterflies in my stomach b/c I was reminded of how in love with you I am. You are my precious littlest baby. I wanted to grasp that moment in time and freeze it. So I would always remember it. I don't want to forget these times when you love me so much that I am your whole world. One day when you're a teenager and don't want to have anything to do with me, it's those tiny moments I'll grasp on to. It will make my heart smile and hurt as I realize my baby is growing up. Until then, I will hold onto you, Colin and Olivia with all my might. You are my reasons for being. That alone is an overwhelming concept to grasp! Mind blowing!
Stop!
Here's the scoop on Five Minute Fridays from Lisa Jo herself:
We write for five minutes flat. All on the same prompt that I post here at 1 minute past midnight EST ever Friday. And we connect on Twitter with the hashtag#FiveMinuteFriday
No extreme editing; no worrying about perfect grammar, font, or punctuation.
Unscripted. Unedited. Real.
It started because I’d been thinking about writing and how often our perfectionism gets in the way of our words. And I figured, why not take 5 minutes and see what comes out: not a perfect post, not a profound post, just five minutes of focused writing.
So now on Fridays a group of people who love to throw caution to the wind and just write without worrying if it’s just right gather to share what five minutes buys them. Just five minutes.
Blah, blah, blog
Well here I go again. The third time in my life I'm attempting to blog. The other 2 times I tried, I failed. First try--lack of interest in my own story. Ha. Second try--lack of time. So of course it makes sense to try again when I have 3 kids under the age of 5, 2 dogs, 1 cat, and a house to maintain. Sure, why not? Recipe for failure? I hope not.
I have to admit, I always felt silly about journaling and/or keeping a diary. I don't know why. Just always have. Back in the days of diaries with locks and keys, I felt silly writing to no one. I mean, no one else was going to read my entries and I already knew how I was feeling so why take the extra time to write it down? Seemed pointless. Lots of blah, blah, blah for no reason. While I still feel weird about journaling, blogging is a little different, I think. I even looked up the definition to make sure. I'm a word nerd and love to know the meanings and origins of words. 'Blog' is the combination of the words 'web' and 'log'. Kind of like a journal but more like a chronicle. So I think I'm okay with that.
But another reason I want to give this another shot is that I want to write. There, I said it. I've always loved to write and I've been told my whole life that I have a knack for it. But I've always been hesitant to try b/c I'm a wuss and it's hard to put yourself out there for people to point and laugh at you or shred you to bits. But I've also hesitated b/c I always feared my technical skills weren't good enough--you know, proper punctuation usage and whatnot. I like to do things right or I don't want to do them at all. But I'm not going to let that stop me anymore. I just hope that what I have to say and what I have to write will be so brilliant and impactful (kidding, sort of) that some punctuation mistakes will go unnoticed. Or at least forgiven.
I've also been inspired by reading some other amazing blogs recently. Check out Holley Gerth's and Lisa Jo Baker's blogs. They're worth the read.
I don't know. We'll see where this all goes from here. Even though my blog isn't exclusively about the twins anymore, I'm keeping the name b/c I think it's clever. Vincent came up with the name. I love it so it stays! :)
I have to admit, I always felt silly about journaling and/or keeping a diary. I don't know why. Just always have. Back in the days of diaries with locks and keys, I felt silly writing to no one. I mean, no one else was going to read my entries and I already knew how I was feeling so why take the extra time to write it down? Seemed pointless. Lots of blah, blah, blah for no reason. While I still feel weird about journaling, blogging is a little different, I think. I even looked up the definition to make sure. I'm a word nerd and love to know the meanings and origins of words. 'Blog' is the combination of the words 'web' and 'log'. Kind of like a journal but more like a chronicle. So I think I'm okay with that.
But another reason I want to give this another shot is that I want to write. There, I said it. I've always loved to write and I've been told my whole life that I have a knack for it. But I've always been hesitant to try b/c I'm a wuss and it's hard to put yourself out there for people to point and laugh at you or shred you to bits. But I've also hesitated b/c I always feared my technical skills weren't good enough--you know, proper punctuation usage and whatnot. I like to do things right or I don't want to do them at all. But I'm not going to let that stop me anymore. I just hope that what I have to say and what I have to write will be so brilliant and impactful (kidding, sort of) that some punctuation mistakes will go unnoticed. Or at least forgiven.
I've also been inspired by reading some other amazing blogs recently. Check out Holley Gerth's and Lisa Jo Baker's blogs. They're worth the read.
I don't know. We'll see where this all goes from here. Even though my blog isn't exclusively about the twins anymore, I'm keeping the name b/c I think it's clever. Vincent came up with the name. I love it so it stays! :)
They're heeeeeere!
Most of us are familiar with that oh-so-ominous line from 'Poltergeist'...."They're heeeeeere!" The line spoken by young Carol Ann to her family after the evil spirits fly out of her parents' TV screen and into the walls of their home. It was an unwelcome invasion that resulted in a supernatural kidnapping, terror and eventual loss of the family home when it was sucked down to the bowels of Hell. Sounds fun, doesn't it? Well I can assure you that while I chose to use that famous, horror movie quote as the title of this blog entry, the twins' arrival has been nothing but sheer joy. Yes, scary sometimes but not like the plot of a scary movie. Their invasion was most hoped for, most prayed for and so very welcomed! These babies are precious, my little monsters (see pics below) :)
The twins arrived on June 14th as scheduled. Colin Patrick Sheets was born at 8:56am weighing in at 7 lbs, 12 oz and 20.5 inches long! Sofia Kate was born a minute later at 8:57am weighing in at a whopping 7lbs, 15 oz and 19.75 inches long!! Sofia weighed more than her older sister did when she was born! I got confirmation yesterday from Dr. Staub that they are the biggest set of twins he's ever delivered or that he's ever heard about! All the nurses kept commenting on how big and healthy they were for twins--they are already making momma proud at such a young age! You talk about grateful to God...I am still thanking Him everyday for these little miracles! I am so, so blessed!
My Csection could not have gone smoother. I opted for the spinal block and it was the best decision--I felt absolutely nothing and it was greatness. It was fun having Dr. Staub in the delivery room this time, too. He really helped to relieve the tension for me and let Vincent get some GREAT delivery shots, too (I will post pics soon)! And nothing could express the joy I felt at seeing both my babies one by one and hearing them cry for the first time. Vincent was so proud and excited--his voice went up an octave when he began to speak and he was talking very fast just like a little kid on Christmas morning. It was so cute.
The overall stay in the hospital was a much better experience this time, too. I didn't get sick, the nurses were awesome, only needed one IV, and the food was even better this time! I can't complain at all! But a hospital stay is still a hospital stay and I was so glad to get home. These first couple of weeks have been rough from a sleep standpoint. We're basically not getting any but that's to be expected. Sofia seems to have developed reflux--just like her big sister.
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| Me just minutes before the surgery. I was actually pretty calm. |
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| Calm reassurance |
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| Colin Patrick |
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| I'm a big boy! |
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| Sofia Kate |
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| Sofia's even bigger than her brother! |
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| A very happy, albeit a little out of it, mama of twins! |
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| Colin and Sofia....Colin's ears were pointy like a vampire and Sofia's were hairy like a werewolf! My little monsters--still to this day! |
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