We should hear sometime today about the house on Turtlecreek. This house has been on our radar for almost two months.  We saw it come on the market and jumped immediately. It was big, spacious, in a great neighborhood and cheap!!! It is a foreclosure and we thought maybe, just maybe we could make it work in our budget… We offered over asking and got the house over multiple offers!!! We were ecstatic and already pricing carpet. I wish that was the end of the story but sadly it isn’t.  We had gotten creative with our financing and hadn’t really cleared everything before we made the offer. We ended up having to retract our offer which opened the pool to other buyers. Second time around we didn’t win.

It was hard to move on because we are looking for a long term home. The home our girls will grow up in. We need it to work for us now and down the road when we have teenagers. I felt strongly about having a good amount of square footage, like 2500. I felt strongly about having a sense of community and other kids close by for our girls to play with. There were things about Turtlecreek that most houses in our price range didn’t have… all of that plus a fireplace in the master and a pool/hot tup to name a couple. However, we tried our hardest. We gave Guthrie a fair chance, and even West Edmond. Now we love Guthrie and if the right house popped up we would jump.  West Edmond is a little different… Stephen would have a lot of traffic to and from work and it just felt like a head ache I didn’t want for the next 10+ years.

This house shopping process has been difficult for me.  We started looking in October when we found out we would be moving.  We initially found a great home in Southeast Edmond; great yard, cul de sac, lots of space, and dated=cheap. We put an offer in and negotiated a little only to find out they had decided to go with a lower cash offer.  I was crushed and nothing compared. We kept looking but with a move, Christmas, two birthdays, and a miscarriage in December/ early January we slowed down.

Thats when Turtlecreek hit. After we lost it I dove hard into a house in Guthrie. Talk about magical and a sweet place to raise three girls. It was unfinished and for an Interior Designer it was a dream. I made plans and met our contractor/friend at the house to get a quote. What we though would be around 70K was over 150K. We knew that the current owners had bought it for 30K but didn’t know what their all in was… It was $163,000.  So yeah… for 313k we could be in our dream home… Too bad we were $100,000 short.

I threw my hands up and finally gave it to God. I knew he already had the house for us. I knew he wanted to provide for us, but in the moment if something had worked out I would have taken all the credit for it. I look for houses unlike anyone I know. Obsessed is an understatement. No one has shown me a house I hadn’t already seen, analyzed, walked around the neighborhood via the street view, looked at schools and read the parent reviews, put it into the mortgage calculator and even drawn the floor plan out to see if my furniture would fit and that we could make it all we ever wanted a house to be.  I AM CRAZY!!!

But on this day I stopped. I stopped freaking out. I rested in the promise that my heavenly Father wants to provide for me and is just waiting for the right time to reveal the home he has had for me all along. I rested in the fact that I am not big enough or stupid enough to mess up his perfect plan. My heart wanted what he wanted, if he wanted to plop it in my lap with not a ounce of work on my side he would. I still looked but I didn’t obsess. I calmed down. I breathed, and I soaked in a peace that was always available but that I had yet to take advantage of.

See his love is like a cloud, we are constantly living in this cloud. But we slowly get wrapped up in the misconception that we control our lives, kinda like putting on a gas mask. I don’t need you God, I can do it myself. He rolls his eyes cuz he knows his cloud is all we need but we refuse it. He never takes his cloud away, it follows us everywhere we go. It never leaves or forsakes us. We just aren’t choosing to see it or take it in. On that day I removed my mask and took a deep breath. “Guide me, provide for me, you are my home, you are everything I need.”

So back to today. If they tell us we got the house, it will be GOD. A miracle. There are multiple offers and we didn’t even get close to the asking price. If we don’t get it, I know it wasn’t the house for us and God is waiting with a better home. A home that will house our love, our laughter, our ministry even better than Turtlecreek ever could.

I’ll keep you posted.

Over the last 5 months my life has drastically changed.  But even before that it was changing in significant ways.  We wanted to have another baby, I had felt it for a while.  I was waiting for the ‘right time’. We prayed about it towards the end of 2015 and decided we would start trying early 2016.  Based on my other three pregnancies, I assumed not only would we get pregnant first try but that it would be a perfect, low-risk pregnancy.  I was so sure I would get pregnant quick that as soon as we started trying I ordered myself some cute maternity jeans… and immediately started wearing them… they were real cute. March, April, May, June, July, August, September… nothing.  I began to understand the struggle that so many other women know too well. How frustrating it would be to start your period every month. How you feel right before you start is stupidly close to how you might feel newly pregnant.  How in your moments of excitement in the trying you spoke to numerous friends, who then in their excitement, ask about it. each. month.

I had felt out of sorts for about a year by this point. Ideas and dreams about my career hadn’t panned out. I felt stuck in my beautiful house… if only it had one more bedroom, if only we had enough money to redo the master bathroom, not to mention the maintenance on the siding. What if we made a loft in one of the rooms up into the attic?! What if we used the playroom as a bedroom… WHAT IF we just bought a fixer in this amazing market and made some money and then bought a 4 bedroom with loads of potential to finally have my picture-perfect home. NOPE… nothing budged. I was constantly researching Real Estate Schools and asking everyone questions, and searching for like-minded people who might want to flip a house with me… with their money of course. Nothing budged.  I couldn’t change anything about my situation, I couldn’t force it. I liked where I was but I wasn’t content.

One night it became overwhelming… panic set in and the anxiety caused me to cry uncontrollably.  I make terrible decisions. I can’t trust myself. I can’t hear God. We can’t have another baby. I can’t move. I can’t breath.

Then in a week, everything changed. We were moving back to OKC and we were PREGNANT!!! That first week of October, 2016 was nerve-wreaking, sad, extremely happy and exhausting all at once.  We had a ton to think about, plan and work towards.  We started looking at houses in Oklahoma and started planning life with a forth baby.  We waited a couple weeks and started to tell our closest friends.  I took like 4 tests to check and double, triple, quadruple check, just to make sure I was really pregnant.  I called my midwife and we agreed we would wait til I was back in OK to start care, which was standard.

Everything I wanted seemed to be happening, all at once.  I now knew I wanted more space in my home, I didn’t mind if it was ugly as long as it had a ton of potential. I was looking for a long term home, I was sick of moving. I wanted a place where my girls would grow up and stay in the same school with the same people and have a strong feeling of being grounded, knowing where they are from. See, I’ve moved over 20 times in my life, ministry not military. I have no idea what feeling grounded is like. My dad was in ministry and so is my husband. I remember one specific move that was really hard for me and I would even venture to say it changed me, really changed me.  When I was 13, we moved from the greater Houston area to a small town in southeast Oklahoma. It was not glamorous, it was not a ‘city’ at all, it was not what I wanted. I wanted exciting, an adventure, something new!  But this was where my grandparents had lived all my life so I had visited more times than I could count and was not impressed. I left the only friends I could remember ever having. It somewhat broke me.  I shut down, I didn’t want to make friends, I just wanted out. This was when I stopped living in the moment and started rushing onto the next best thing. High School was a disappointment, onto the next thing… College was a disappointment, onto the next… my degree and career choice was a disappointment… lets move on, change, keep changing, keep searching.

I see now, how these experiences have molded me into who I am and how my discontentment has driven me to want to be content and settled.  I don’t want that for my girls but I guess it would do the same for them as it did for me. Light a fire in me, give me passion for community, for home, and for staying in the moment.  Do I have or do any of those, no, not at the moment but they are my frequent prayers.

Back to Octoberish… We set the date for moving, December 16th.  When that day came I already had been struggling with my pregnancy. Nothing crazy, it just wasn’t my normal pregnancy. In the forefront of my mind was A BOY!!! However, in the back of my mind was something wrong. I didn’t ‘feel’ pregnant, I hadn’t thrown up.  I wanted to believe so badly that it was a boy, I wanted to trust that my body knew how to be pregnant because it only had healthy pregnancies but somewhere in my mind, I wondered if something was terribly wrong. I had called to get a doctor appointment but no one could get me in before the move. I was talking with my midwife daily, she was such an encouragement and a calming help. I resorted to taking it easy and staying focused on finding a home and the move.

We arrived in OK, without a house, so we rented a portion of a home from a family we didn’t know: the garage had been turned into a studio apartment and then inside the house were three vacant bedrooms where our girls would sleep. It was just what we needed and we didn’t have to sign a lease. YAY!! Okay, time to find a house… wait… time for Christmas.

Christmas day I was 11.5 weeks. My light bleeding had stopped and I was feeling fine!  We announced the pregnancy with a beautiful photo college including one with Stephen’s arms wrapped around my waist with his hands in the shape of a heart over my belly. Perfection! Now.. to find a house!!

Two days later…

In the evening I went to the bathroom as usual, no cramps, feeling just fine. But I began to pass blood clots and then a larger mass looking a lot like a miniature placenta. I began to shake and cry and could barely call for Stephen. A whimper of a cry like I was unable to suck in enough breath to get my voice to carry. Disbelief of what I had feared all along,  was true. Stephen, clueless as to what to do, just said, “Call Yvonne!” I spent the next number of minutes setting up appointments and being calmed by my midwife. The next day the blood work confirmed I was miscarrying.

I felt lost, numb and very disappointed.

I had no home, none of the friends I felt so close to, and no baby. God had allowed me to be stripped. If I’m completely honest, I knew I would remain in that place until I learned to completely depend on him. He had to become my home, my closest friend, I had to understand that I was his baby, and that he cared more for me than I could ever comprehend. But I didn’t want to. I didn’t want to pray. I didn’t want to believe. He had let me be crushed. How was I supposed to believe this what his plan?! My head new that it was, that he had me, that he cared… but my heart was broken. I wanted to crawl in a hole and sleep, hibernate, until every bad thing had passed.

That was impossible. I had three little girls that needed me constantly. A husband who wanted to help but didn’t know how. He did great at giving me space and letting me sulk, he let me stay in bed and not talk. I just wanted to pretend it didn’t happen but 3000 facebook friends had just been made aware and there was no avoiding it. People were reaching out left and right. So many women had experienced this but I just wanted to disappear. Nothing really helped except time. As my body began to feel normal again I began to default: move on, change, keep changing.

I wanted to be distracted by a house so badly it consumed me. I looked at my phone every 3.5 minutes for new listings. I went to look at houses I knew I didn’t want. Pintrested a perfect home that I couldn’t wait to create. But days turned to weeks, which have now become 2 months and I am no closer to a home today then I was then… I have traveled down every rabbit hole from building to restoring to renovating slowly over time to buying small, flipping and moving again. I look all the time… ALL. THE. TIME. I felt like a shell, like a robot set to ‘find a home’ mode and couldn’t switch off. I seriously couldn’t or didn’t want to think about anything else.

The only time I spent with God, was the act of forcing myself to read my positive affirmations that he did indeed love me and that I was not holding on to anger. That I could relax and be patient and still. That I had everything I needed to be who He was calling me to be. No matter how I didn’t believe those things I still read them as often as I remembered to.

After the miscarriage, my closest girlfriends in TN sent me money for a plane ticket to visit. I scheduled it out far enough to give my body time to heal, or so I thought. My trip was scheduled for February 8th-13th. More than two months after the miscarriage had started. I just didn’t realize how long it would take, I thought it took like a week. I had felt normal so I must be passed it, long passed but the night before I was suppose to leave for TN, my body decided to complete the miscarriage. I had taken all three girls to the doctor for possible flu or strep. I was tired and hurting. Cramps verging on birth pangs began to start while I was at the doctor’s office. I called Stephen to tell him that I didn’t feel good and would love for him to pick up dinner instead of me cooking. A friend was in town and I just wanted to relax. As soon as that friend arrived I had to excuse myself to the restroom. I stayed there for what felt like forever, no pad was going to help me in this moment. I was confused and slightly alarmed but after a short conversation with my midwife I just resumed to the fact that this was normal and I was perfectly fine. Emotionally I was long gone. I waited until I could move and tried to act normal for the evening which was difficult. My two year old was miserable as well with coughing and restricted breathing. I stayed up almost all night with her trying to make her comfortable all the while I was worried about bleeding through another pad. I finally fell asleep around 5 am. I woke up groggy and panicked. I was supposed to fly out that morning, “I haven’t packed and I have no idea what time it is!” In two hours I packed a bag for myself and my two littles so they could go to grandma’s. Ten minutes before I was suppose to leave we got a call that my oldest wasn’t feeling well and needed to be picked up from school. “WHAT THE HELL?!?!?!” I can’t leave like this!!! But I did. I just walked out.. without my phone. Halfway to the airport I realized what I had done. Needless to say I made it to the airport with 30 minutes to get from the door to the plane. I made it.

My trip to TN was so sweet, so relaxing, so reenergizing, so wonderful. I slept so hard, having zero responsibility results in some really good sleep. I spent quality time with important people. I shopped guilt free with the budget I had set for myself before I left. I created art, pressure free. I missed my kids for the first time in 7 years because this was my first time to leave, all by myself for myself. I realized I had been in survival mode, drowning in motherhood for almost my whole motherhood. Sounds crazy but I just had no idea how dry and at the bottom of the barrel I had gotten. We had focused on my husband, when he needed to take time off, when he was low and stressed but never about me. I was so low, so stressed, so worn out. I came back with a renewed desire to care for my kids, to protect my newly overflowing bucket of energy and to fully depend on God to be my provider.

Note to reader: If you are a mother and you find caring for your kids, bathing them, cutting their food, kissing their boo boos annoying, then you are dry. When you are that dry the internal voices telling you that you aren’t a good mom and that everyone else knows what they are doing and are better than you take over. You have no power over them because you are wasted, used up. Schedule a time, do whatever it takes to get away and find what builds you up, and miss your kids before you come back.

I thought I had gotten to that place, that place I needed to get to before I would find my home. But I hadn’t really gotten there. It took a little more disappointment, a little more frustration before I finally, this morning, through my hands up and said I give up. God had told me to write down what I wanted, then had told me to wait and watch him do a miracle on my behalf but I just couldn’t get out of the way. I thought he needed me to work tirelessly to find the home he had hidden in plain sight. Not really how he works. He promises to take care of us, period. M’LEA, RELAX, PLEASE!!!

He wants to do this for me, without me. So that when it is complete all I can say is that it was God, 100%. I can’t wait to give you that update, but until then I will be still and ask with anticipation. I hope you find encouragement in the waiting. If you need a little help…

 

 

So on July 28th, 2016 I posted on Instagram and Facebook that I was taking a social media break.  This break had nothing to do with anyone or anything else but me.  I had committed to posting a yoga pose everyday for 100 days.  This shouldn’t have been a big deal, I did it last year and loved it, why would I not love doing it again?! I wasn’t even two weeks in and all of the sudden I was buckling under the pressure, that I had put upon myself.  I felt anxiety over many issues; motherhood, design work, but also yoga. I found that I was comparing myself to other people. At one point I got jealous, of someone I loved and knew and was happy for but still, I wanted what she had.

All of this, plus a huge feeling of inadequacy was really weighing on me so when I hit jealousy, I quit… I just quit everything I could.

I knew I had been wasting a lot of time on social media and wanted to know how different my day would look when I gave it up. (BTW…You know you have a problem when you become defensive if anyone brings up how much you are “scrolling”…my husband liked to point it out.) I was escaping or trying to. I was procrastinating. I was avoiding my life.

Most of all, I was spending time doing things that didn’t matter because I was scared focusing on the things that really did matter.  Scared of TRYING to figure it out.  How crazy is that?! I’m not talking about taking the HUGE step of going back to school or sending in the small business plan to apply for a loan or handing over 100K to invest in a project… I’m talking about sitting down with a piece of paper and a pencil.  That, that piece of paper and pencil scared me. I didn’t want to tackle getting better at motherhood, furthering my education in yoga, hustling for design work, or just finishing the work I had.

The anxiety was effecting everything I did.  I’m not even sure how to explain it.  I would try to do something and the second it didn’t go well I found it hard to breath I would feel myself loosing patience like trying to hold water in your hands… I would get by myself as fast as I could. You know when you are dealing with something and you want to tell someone but you don’t know how… so you just joke about it?! I was literally doing that, laughing, with tears in my eyes saying, “I’m loosing it!”.

Jesus, help. I could feel him wanting more of my time. I could imagine him sad about how I was spending my life. He knew a better way and desperately wanted me to find it and live it and I was “scrolling”.

In the beginning I read books, lots of books. About God, Real Estate, parenting, grace, habits and personality types. I learned a lot about me and about how I naturally function. I have a lot of issues that have taken up occupancy in my mind, and when I try to rid myself of one I gain a new one, or I just recognize a new one. What I found when I read all these books is that a lot of what I didn’t like about myself was natural. Ugh. Natural! Almost all of it had to do with the fact I was introverted. Not only do people wear me out but phone calls, emails, text messages even can be to much for me. It can take me so long to reply because, frankly I don’t want to think about how to reply. As an introvert I’m suppose to gain energy by being alone.  Uh, thats not fair for us stay-at-home moms with extroverted husbands.

I. am. never. alone.

I have been slowly creeping back though.  I downloaded snapchat. I kept Instagram just in case I needed to look something or someone up, it comes in handy. I would even venture onto Facebook when I needed. But I can feel it slowly taking over again. Sucking up more and more of my time. I hate it and love it all at once.

Another characteristic of mine I don’t like much is that I can’t do things in moderation.  I like to totally engulf myself or abstain. So here is to practicing moderation, to staying true to what I love and continuing to do those things the best I can, to saying no to things that I don’t want taking up valuable space in my life.

Here are some questions you can ask yourself to help prioritize your time…

1. If I was loaded like Taylor Swift, how would my life look different?
2. Where does my guilt come from?
3. What gives me energy, do I do that enough, what is keeping me from doing it more?
4. Is there anything I dread doing that I can delegate or just stop all together?

How I would answer these questions…

1. I would decorate my house, I would decorate for every holiday, I would change my flowers in my yard with the seasons. I would take classes on pottery and painting and photography. I would buy houses and renovate them with integrity and sell them for profit until our house was paid for and our kids futures were saved for. AND I would do this for all of my friends. I would have Holy Yoga retreats and girls weekends with my besties. I would take Stella on a mom and daughter get-away and then Zo and then Jo. Stephen and I would always have special time together, not stressed, not rushed. I would throw parties on the reg.
2. Loosing my patiences. Spending too much money. Not getting the time with people/God, like I’d like to.
3. Holy Yoga. I do yoga but not holy yoga and I can feel the need. I need a location. I need to ask more people about a location.
4. Drapes. Let me clarify. I enjoy making drapes with the correct materials. Not with makeshift stuff. It drains me and I avoid it which draws out the project which leaves me feeling terrible.

Slow down. Breath. Listen. Reevaluate. Change.

There is peace that passes all understanding, its time to stop “scrolling”, and live.

As for my yoga pics, I’ll post whenever I feel like it and make it worth more like the above picture.

In the nights sky I see myself

In the stars, scattered yet stunning

Full of light but longing

Full of story yet silent

 

I speak but no words escape

I sing but no heart is felt

I live but no life is seen

I love but yes, I love

 

You made the night, I see you there

You made the stars, I see you there

You are the light, I feel you there

You are the story, I feel you here

This sums it up. Im figuring out a lot of what I’ve been struggling with is a personality trait. Something that I can change but I have to be highly aware of it all the time, fighting its impulses.  I’m already tired. My drive to understand myself and my place in this world, not wanting to settle but live out my passions and purpose, being able to write my feelings but never fully verbalize them.  All of this is my personality.  INFP’s make up about 4% of the worlds population with famous people like Audrey Hepburn and Curt Cobain. Yeah… the odds of me being content in my career are slim based on my personality, most INFP’s search their whole lives for their single role and some never find it, the ones who do take a long time to get there.  We don’t like to be tied down by constraints like time and money. Some people say we are neither followers or leaders.  One quote I connected with was “I just want to make things pretty and get enough sleep.”

Not really sure what to do with all of this but I am searching, still.

I wish this was a post telling you all about the progress I’ve made.  All about the great steps I’ve takin in the direction of my purpose.  This deep answer into how I found my way and the success I’m experiencing while I’m reaching my full potential. (WOW, I would really love to read that post)

But I can’t.

Honestly, I’m not sure I’ve made any progress at all, while I have been desperately striving for it. I’m not even positive I haven’t back slid a little.  In all actuality, I’m closer to a mental breakdown then discovering what I’m going to be when I grow up.

My head is full of insecurities, doubts, anxiety, and fear. I feel like a fraud. Like a fake. Like someone who couldn’t see their own life clearly so they tried to take on someone else’s. And this was years ago… so now I have no clear distinction between the me I truly am and the me I’ve tried to become.

I realized something the other night.  This something was an epiphany of sorts.  Not the kind that leads to the MacPRO but the kind that makes you realize something about yourself you really didn’t care to know, but God showed it to you on purpose to help you grow… that kind…

The epiphany was this: When I was in high school, I depended on my parents to make most large decisions.  I didn’t think for myself, or if I did I was very childish in my thoughts. My parents guided me but not with teaching, more with rules. When I graduated and was on my own I, all of the sudden, assumed I was equipped for some pretty serious decisions.  Where I was going to go to college, would I attend my classes, would I study, would I get a job and work… I failed 4 out of the 5 classes I took that semester. I defaulted to my parents to save my poor decisions. They sent me to a Baptist college.  I had to change my major and start over.  I DID go to class this time and I did study but the major I was now in left me feeling dull.  It used no creativity, so I thought. After three semesters I decided to change schools, and my major, again.  At this point I decided to get a job, then a different one, then a different one. I decided to move and change friends.  I decided to drink and hang out with the wrong boys. I decided to stop going to church. Then I ran into Stephen, my future husband.  We very quickly started dating and I knew I could trust him, with everything.  He was kind and smart and was in God’s will, living his purpose at 21. I admired him and subconsciously decided to now run all my decisions through him. Over the years I have slowly filtered almost everything I have done through him.  His yes, or his no, dictated what I decided.  Not in a bad way, not in a controlling way. I didn’t want the control, I wanted someone else to tell me what to do.  So now… I don’t know how to make a decent decision on my own. Most the choices I made on my own turned out bad. I’m really scared of making another bad decision.

So I’ve been mulling over getting my real estate license. For like, ever, right? I realized, the same night as my epiphany, that the only decisions I stuck to my guns on were the houses we bought.  We have loved the houses we have lived in.  All with their own qualities issues. But so loved none the less. I feel like everything is pointing me towards Real Estate. But the fear is gigantic and its paralyzing. I want to ensure that I will be good at it before I do it, but I cant. I don’t have a crystal ball.  I have God tho, and that is infinitely better. I get absorbed with details and forget to trust. I get stuck on what I don’t know and don’t understand and try to research and figure it out when I’m just suppose to take a step of faith.

There has been a quote in multiple books I have read lately.  By Paulo Coelho.

A boat is safe in the harbor. But this is not the purpose of a boat.

God can speak through the Bible, through nature or through other peoples words.  If I ever want to know what I’ve been built for I need to get out of the harbor.  Out of my comfort zone and risk something. My pride. Learn how to use failed decisions for my good, let them become the gasoline to my fire, my passion.  Take one day at a time, not get wrapped up in the details and just trust the Creator to care for his creation.

Progress.

Where’s the update on my great real estate adventure? Eh… there isn’t one.  I’ve looked up where I would like to get my license and when I would need to be in class but have I actually signed up yet, no.  Why? Well, that is why I am writing today.  I need to process what all is going on in my head.

I just spent a week with one of my closest friends.  We have been friends for almost 20 years. Yup!  She is so inspiring and challenges me to be a better wife, mother and human being.  She stands for things, like really stands for them.  If she cares at all she cares a lot.  At the same time she lives such a beautiful life.  I understand that I don’t see everything but the parts I do see are absolutely lovely.  She has a garden and is a florist, she is minimal and cluttered in all the right places, she antiques better than Bon Jovi sings.  This girl is awesome.

Why am I telling you all this?  Well, I started to think about this dream that I have.  And I started to think about what kind of foundation I was about to start building it upon.  And I realized that it would be pretty shaky.  The only thing I feel like I’ve been consistently good at is wifing.  That is a big deal, I get it.  But I can’t honestly say that I’m momming the way I would like to be, budgeting, or housekeeping the way I’d like to be.  Ultimately, I would be running from becoming better at home, towards real estate to give myself an excuse as to why I’m so bad at all the other things.  I need to pay closer attention to my basics.

First and foremost, my relationship with God.  I just haven’t spent a lot of time in the Word or praying or anything.  I tend to binge read for like one afternoon and then neglect for like a month.  I know I want more time with him.  I know that he is the firm foundation that I want to build the dream on and with.  I know that deepening my love for him will trickle down into my mothering, wifing, and housekeeping.  And I also know that when I feel secure in him I will more clearly see the reasoning behind my dream and if it is also the dream he has for me.  Make sense?

Second, my mothering.  Lately, I have been in survival mode.  Not much patience, not a lot of grace, not a lot of fun.  I really want to be all of those things.  Everyday.  My friend talked of a book she had just read.  It talked about making the most of the moments in the morning. That first moment you see your kid, making sure it is a positive experience for them.  How that moment sets the pace for then entire day.  How that moment can make them feel like a blessing or a burden.  I’m sad to say but even thought in my heart I see my kids as blessings, that first moment in our day has probably made them feel otherwise.  If I change nothing else, I hope I can change that.

Third, budgeting.  I’ve gotten a lot better at this, and I try really hard like 28 days out of the month, but just like you can ruin a diet in one meal you can ruin your budget in one purchase and that is what I have consistently done my entire adult life.  Poor Stephen, he has got to be so tired of this.  I won’t even ask, and that is the bad part.  I’m like a child, who knows their parent will say no so they just do it.  I spend and let him figure it out later, which leaves me with so much guilt but I wanted that “thing” so badly.  Ugh. Typing this out is making me feel terrible… lets move on.

Housekeeping.  I hate this one.  Loath it actually.  I am hoping that if I can get the budget in order I can squeeze out enough for a house keeper.  I really just am terrible and have no desire to get any better.  I can meal plan and grocery shop and cook.  I can do dishes and laundry but everything else suffers.  Then what happens is I decide to get it all done in one day and neglect my kids.  My kids are more important than sweeping the floors.  So I will delegate that to someone else to be able to have a peace of mind and more time to do more important things.

There is also the concept of having a healthy lifestyle, healthy kids and a healthy husband.  Unfortunately this falls all on me.  Stephen can make spaghetti and pancakes but not much more than that.  However, he will eat anything I put in front of him so if I plan healthy meals most everyone will eat most everything.  So I am wanting to take that to the next level and include fun activities and exercise.

All in all, I just want to have a better home life before I add a career.  I will probably convince myself otherwise in a couple days.  We will see.

I am a white woman married to a black man.

I do have a fear of black men… who are a little rough around the edges, walking with a purposeful limp, long shirts and low pants. I also have a fear of white men with the same description. I watch my speed and my signals when there’s a cop driving behind me. They could give me a ticket, put me in jail, and they have a gun. I fear scary things. Period. I’m pretty sure both types want to be feared. As much as I ‘fear’ someone that looks a certain way, I now fear the afraid more. We all have fear, we fear those we do not know, and things we do not understand.  It’s what we are letting that fear do to us that really matters.

I can’t fix this, I wish I could.  I wish I could have a dream and stand for something publicly that would actually contribute to the ending of hate. I can’t comfort the families who have lost a man this week.  I can’t keep my husband and kids home forever in hopes of protecting them. I can’t even say that everything is going to be ok, because quite honestly, it most definitely is not going to be ok.  This world is broken, it has been for a long time.  The fixing of it could possibly take the ending of it.

I can say I’m sorry to Alton Sterling’s and Philandro Castile’s families. I am so sorry. There were also 5 white cops murdered in response.  How does this fix Alton’s and Philandro’s deaths?  How does this help anything?  It doesn’t.  It doesn’t even come close.  It doesn’t bring them back or allow their children one more hug or one more kiss.  One more chance to hear “I love you” from their dads!  It doesn’t make the cops that shot the guns, pay.      IT DOESN’T DO ANY GOOD!!!  It only perpetuates hate, fear, and more killing.

It is obvious that there is a lack of Love in the world.

Please, if you are letting this fear turn to hate, stop! Don’t do it. I’m not asking you to put yourself in their shoes or try to see it from their perspective but we can not throw every cop in to a box, just like we can’t throw every black man into one. We can’t weigh stereotypes and majorities.  They can not contain everyone. Therefore we cannot react in an all inclusive way.

We can try to realize that racism is real.  Hate is real. Neither one will ever disappear for good. Don’t be so naive to think that we can fix either one.  There is more to racism than just color. There is racism against women/men, straight/homosexual, big/small, old/young, tattooed/not, etc.  As long as there is differences in us there is racism, because there will always be people who fear the differences.  Don’t get me wrong, I don’t want that last statement to be true but it is.  It just is.

Do you know when my kid learned about racism? Martin Luther King Jr. day in Kindergarten.  Racism is continuing through ignorance. Have you ever thought that some how in teaching kids about it we are teaching kids to do it?  I don’t want to take black history out of school, I want to frame it differently to help kids choose love not hatred.  To fight against racism not fall into it.

I know that new fear has developed inside of me just this week. In response I will teach my kids to see differences but not to fear them, to love and to understand, and to fight for equality.

I know that I would give my white life for his black life, and he would give his for mine. However, we will pray everyday it never comes to that.  We choose to see color for the beauty that it is, we choose to see differences and we also choose Love.

 

I realized today in my 9am yoga class with Shannon, the reason I love yoga.  I can do it, and I can do it right.  I’m really good at an intermediate yoga class.

Today, I got the feeling that, yet again, I had failed at moming.  Stella needed to “teach” the class about the letter s.  Of course she couldn’t come up with the lesson plan all on her own.  So I helped, but then this morning about 15 minutes before she needed to leave I double checked the instructions.  She had to teach for 20 minutes.  20!!!!! All I had done is gotten her some Starburst and walked her through a Simon Says game of doing all things that started with S.  But that wouldn’t take 20 minutes.  So, I added to it the best I could which made her late, and on top of that we forgot her starburst as she was rushing out of the door.  I lost it and yelled… I HATE DOING THIS!!! When the truth was, that I just hate being bad at something.  Id rather not do it at all but not doing anything in this situation made my Stella look bad.  It didn’t fall on me, it fell on her which compounded the feeling of failure for me.  Then I rushed to yoga, I knew I needed it.  As I was nailing Warrior I, then the high push-up, then chaturanga, I realized I love this because I am good at it.

In all areas but yoga, I am not excelling.  I am lazy as a mom, depending on shows and nap times and playing outside for quiet time.  I’m not looking for validation that I’m not a bad mom.  My kids are happy and healthy so I know I’m not terrible.  But I am very self-aware and I know how I would like to mom and what is possible verses what I am actually doing.

I am selfish as a wife.  Calling shots based on how I feel. Saying I’ll take care of something and then just putting it off because I have something “better” to do.  Getting frustrated when I feel like the only one that helps keep the house and the house looks like crap.  Another thing I wish I was better at.  Housekeeping.

I don’t read my bible, I don’t eat well, I don’t drink enough water, I don’t keep up with my friends, I spend money precisely when I’m not suppose to. I just sit and scroll my phone, and wish for things to be different.  I’m so tired of this cycle.  So sick of it.  I know that I can do anything I put my mind to.  And I know that I can accomplish more with God on my side.  I know that he loves me and desires a relationship with me, and to bless me.  I don’t want to be discontent.  I don’t want to desire days past or a different future than the one I know I’ll have.  I want to be happy.  Happy about the past that has brought me here and excited for the future with no fear of whats to come.

I read something today, and I’m not sure where its from. Bible maybe but the reference wasn’t listed.

“God will replace your weakness with his strength.”

Here you go God.  Here is all my weakness, all my insecurities, all my insufficiencies, replace them with your strength, your grace, mercy and wisdom.  If anything changes I and everyone else will know it is YOU that did the work.  Renew my mind, my heart, my soul, my body, my everything.

Replace me.