I finally have my computer hooked up! But... I can't find my mouse... I think I prefer hooking my keyboard into my cell phone if I don't have a mouse for the computer. What a pain! #firstworldproblems
First, a NC update: Tomorrow my aunt and uncle are coming to visit, along with their son and his new fiancee. I can't wait! This is our third visit from family and friends since our move, which makes being so far away from all of them a little bit easier. I don't miss them any less, but when I do get to see someone from home, the distance between us makes the visit so much better than it used to be when we would see each other on a regular basis. I believe I've said it before, but I'll say it again: Absence truly does make the heart grow fonder. And being away from your loved ones makes you appreciate them so much more.
So today I want to ask all of you a question, even though--let's be honest--not a single one of you are going to comment in the section below (it's okay--sort of--I still appreciate your readership). So my question is this: What are some of the most memorable crazy/silly/unbelievable things your children (or nieces, nephews, grandchildren, etc.) have said or done?
Just yesterday, Noah, who's two and a half (30 months if you prefer that kind of thing), dumped Stevia into my husband's work boots. Kevin didn't think it was very funny, until I realized Noah also sweetened my rain boots, as well. Then it was all-around hilarious.
At bedtime, Noah came into my room as I was reading a book (Gone Girl, which I highly recommend!) and said, "Mama, my diaper off me" (we're still in the potty-training process). I asked him why and he responded, "I pooped in my bed." Why? "Cuz."
Thankfully when I went into his room I found easy-to-clean-up "turds," if you will, on the floor and not in his bed. We then had the "you need to go poop on the potty, not on the floor" talk before I got him a new diaper and put him back in bed.
Noah has colored on the walls (which I can honestly and thankfully say Sebastian had never done), unraveled entire toilet paper rolls, colored on cabinets with permanent marker, rubbed Desitin all over his lips and eyes, and then some.
When Sebastian was about two years old, he decided to do something "nice" for mommy. We were playing together outside one warm, sunny day and I realized my phone wasn't on the table where I left it. "Sebastian, where's mommy's phone?" His reply? "I washed it for you, mama!" And there it was. Inside his watering can. Which was also full of water. "Why, thank you, hunny."
Another time he walked outside onto our deck and peed right off the side. "I'm watering your flowers, mama."
When he was a bit older, he "drew mama a picture." On the side of my Jeep. With a rock.
Another time he was playing and called one of his toys a douche. I gave him "the look" and his eyes got wide and he quickly stammered, "No, mama! It means bag!" Of course I had to turn away and stifle my laughter, and explain that it did not mean bag. And then try to mind the words that came out of my trucker mouth (sorry to disappoint, but I do curse!) a bit better.
The other day he actually told me to "Talk to the hand!" I was in shock. How does my seven-year-old son even know that phrase?! I guess some things just carry on from one generation to the next, unfortunately. As long as he doesn't start saying "As if" or "Like, totally!" I think I may be okay. I hope.
The things my children say and do are not always appropriate and sometimes it's hard to contain my laughter. I do explain to them that they need to make better choices, watch their mouths, never do that again, etc. But depending on the issue, I usually end up walking into another room and smiling, thinking to myself, "You're gonna miss this."
So feel free to share your memories! I'd love to read them and share a smile or a laugh! Comment below or share your stories in the comments on my Facebook page, www.facebook.com/sarahstreetblog.
Friday, May 26, 2017
Thursday, May 18, 2017
In the Realm of Dreams
I'm here again. In my grandmother's house. And nothing has changed.
Plastic "rugs" cover the hallway carpet. Light pink. Brand new after my grandfather passed away. There are pictures of my cousins and me all over the living room; on top of the old fashined radio, the TV stand, the floor. The grandfather clock still sits in the corner, reminding me that time stops for no one. Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock. The pendulum swings on.
The rotary phone still hangs on the wall. My grandmother's powder jar still sits on the bathroom vanity. My aunt's room is still decorated exactly the same. Trolls cover almost every inch of her dresser, a rainbow of wild fuzzy hair and gemstone belly buttons.
My grandmother's rooms looks exactly the way it did the last time I slept there. And I miss her.
Have you ever had a dream so vivid, so real that you can almost feel as though someone is there with you, even though they aren't present in the dream? I've been dreaming of my grandmother's house so often lately. Something different happens each time, but the setting is always the same. My grandparents' home. One of the places in which I grew up.
My grandmother is never there, but I can feel her. As I walk from room to room I can picture her there. Baking in the kitchen. Putting on lipstick in the powder room, just outside the bathroom. Taking a nap in my aunt's bed. Putting a load of laundry in the washer, filling the room with the scent of Tide. I can see her in the garage, getting a box of Klondike bars from the chest freezer. Eating dinner at the table, telling us all to talk less and eat more.
And then I'm a little girl, lying next to her in her bed, her hand in mine. And she's brushing the tips of her fingers over my fingernails. And I miss her.
The rotary phone still hangs on the wall. My grandmother's powder jar still sits on the bathroom vanity. My aunt's room is still decorated exactly the same. Trolls cover almost every inch of her dresser, a rainbow of wild fuzzy hair and gemstone belly buttons.
My grandmother's rooms looks exactly the way it did the last time I slept there. And I miss her.
Have you ever had a dream so vivid, so real that you can almost feel as though someone is there with you, even though they aren't present in the dream? I've been dreaming of my grandmother's house so often lately. Something different happens each time, but the setting is always the same. My grandparents' home. One of the places in which I grew up.
My grandmother is never there, but I can feel her. As I walk from room to room I can picture her there. Baking in the kitchen. Putting on lipstick in the powder room, just outside the bathroom. Taking a nap in my aunt's bed. Putting a load of laundry in the washer, filling the room with the scent of Tide. I can see her in the garage, getting a box of Klondike bars from the chest freezer. Eating dinner at the table, telling us all to talk less and eat more.
And then I'm a little girl, lying next to her in her bed, her hand in mine. And she's brushing the tips of her fingers over my fingernails. And I miss her.
Friday, April 28, 2017
Making a House a Home
Life is good. So so good. It has taken me a while to adjust to living in a new place, so far away from my mom and the only place I've ever known. I still miss her like crazy. I also miss fresh mozzarella cheese from Colandra's, Rita's Italian Ice, Spin Radio, Slater Taters from Little Creek Bar-B-Cue, coffee and conversation at J. DeFranco and Daughters Catering and Deli. I miss my friends. But I'm really happy with where my family is in life right now.
Hubby started working second shift recently and we thought we were going to hate it. It turns out, it's perfect for us. We enjoy spending time together in the morning and early afternoon, running errands or having breakfast at our new favorite diner. It's such a nice change from when Kevin worked third shift and we barely saw each other.
My oldest son, Sebastian, has made new friends in the neighborhood, and I've developed a relationship with their mothers.
I visit the local library once a week or more because I've made time for myself. Every day, even if it's just for 20 minutes or so, I sit down with a cup of coffee or a glass of wine, and I read a book. And letters! I keep in touch with friends and relatives via old school snail mail and I absolutely love it! In a way, I feel like I've developed better relationships with quite a few people in my life since I've moved away.
And my birthday this year was so wonderful! I received gifts and cards and flowers! It felt so good to know that my friends were thinking of me on my birthday, the first one I've spent so far away from "home."
Even better, my parents were here for my birthday! We only had a few days together, but we were able to take the kids to the zoo, have Easter dinner together, and just enjoy each other. It really was a great time.
I still have boxes to unpack and laundry to sort through. But I am more motivated to do it all, because I'm finally enjoying my new home.
Hubby started working second shift recently and we thought we were going to hate it. It turns out, it's perfect for us. We enjoy spending time together in the morning and early afternoon, running errands or having breakfast at our new favorite diner. It's such a nice change from when Kevin worked third shift and we barely saw each other.
My oldest son, Sebastian, has made new friends in the neighborhood, and I've developed a relationship with their mothers.
I visit the local library once a week or more because I've made time for myself. Every day, even if it's just for 20 minutes or so, I sit down with a cup of coffee or a glass of wine, and I read a book. And letters! I keep in touch with friends and relatives via old school snail mail and I absolutely love it! In a way, I feel like I've developed better relationships with quite a few people in my life since I've moved away.
And my birthday this year was so wonderful! I received gifts and cards and flowers! It felt so good to know that my friends were thinking of me on my birthday, the first one I've spent so far away from "home."
Even better, my parents were here for my birthday! We only had a few days together, but we were able to take the kids to the zoo, have Easter dinner together, and just enjoy each other. It really was a great time.
I still have boxes to unpack and laundry to sort through. But I am more motivated to do it all, because I'm finally enjoying my new home.
Monday, March 27, 2017
Tired. Hospitals. Kidnapping.
I. Am. Exhausted. But! I must stay awake, so here I go.
I've been at the hospital with Kevin since 2am because he started having chest pains last night. Chest pain is nothing to take lightly to begin with, but Kevin was a bit worried given that his father just had a heart attack last month. To sum it up, he's not having a heart attack and the doctors don't believe the pain has anything to do with his heart, but they're running some tests to rule out blood clots and any illnesses, so we're going to be here a while yet.
Coming to this hospital this morning has really opened my eyes and shown me how great St. Luke's is. I've always loved St. Luke's hospitals for they're short waiting times--Anderson Campus had my father-in-law in the OR in less than 30 minutes--thoroughness of their doctors, attentive nurses, and the sweetest house keepers! The list goes on and on. It truly is a wonderful hospital.
And now here we are in a hospital where ER patients have waited for more than an hour and a half to be see a doctor. The overall upkeep of the hospital itself is the worst I've ever seen. The nurses and doctors have all been great, which is the most important thing, obviously, but my experience here has really made me think.
There are so many things you take for granted in life. And with that, there are so many things that we don't really think about as anything less than staples in everyone's lives.
Hospitals are one of those things. Clean, well-maintained and functioning hospitals where doctors are knowledgeable and experienced, where the entire staff goes above and beyond to make sure every patient receives the best possible care.
It's hard to believe that many people don't have access to doctors or sanitary health care practices. It's a necessity, something most of us don't think twice about. We need it, so it's always going to be there, right?
Just something to think about...
On that note, I must get back home now so I can get Sebastian ready for school--don't worry, they're not home alone! But I may wait another few minutes to witness the action going on outside Kevin's room... "You can't hold me here against my will. It's not kidnappin' but you can't keep me against my will. I'm signin' my right to walk out this hospital."
Have a great day, everyone!!
I've been at the hospital with Kevin since 2am because he started having chest pains last night. Chest pain is nothing to take lightly to begin with, but Kevin was a bit worried given that his father just had a heart attack last month. To sum it up, he's not having a heart attack and the doctors don't believe the pain has anything to do with his heart, but they're running some tests to rule out blood clots and any illnesses, so we're going to be here a while yet.
Coming to this hospital this morning has really opened my eyes and shown me how great St. Luke's is. I've always loved St. Luke's hospitals for they're short waiting times--Anderson Campus had my father-in-law in the OR in less than 30 minutes--thoroughness of their doctors, attentive nurses, and the sweetest house keepers! The list goes on and on. It truly is a wonderful hospital.
And now here we are in a hospital where ER patients have waited for more than an hour and a half to be see a doctor. The overall upkeep of the hospital itself is the worst I've ever seen. The nurses and doctors have all been great, which is the most important thing, obviously, but my experience here has really made me think.
There are so many things you take for granted in life. And with that, there are so many things that we don't really think about as anything less than staples in everyone's lives.
Hospitals are one of those things. Clean, well-maintained and functioning hospitals where doctors are knowledgeable and experienced, where the entire staff goes above and beyond to make sure every patient receives the best possible care.
It's hard to believe that many people don't have access to doctors or sanitary health care practices. It's a necessity, something most of us don't think twice about. We need it, so it's always going to be there, right?
Just something to think about...
On that note, I must get back home now so I can get Sebastian ready for school--don't worry, they're not home alone! But I may wait another few minutes to witness the action going on outside Kevin's room... "You can't hold me here against my will. It's not kidnappin' but you can't keep me against my will. I'm signin' my right to walk out this hospital."
Have a great day, everyone!!
Monday, March 13, 2017
All Because She's Proud of Me
If no one ever took risks, Michelangelo would have painted the Sistine floor. -Neil SimonI checked my mail this morning (apparently I forgot to do so on Saturday) and was pleasantly not-so-surprised to find a letter from a friend. The letter itself meant so much to me, but the most important words were, "I'm proud of you."
I don't hear this often, so after everything we've been through since we decided to move our family to another state, I couldn't help but smile and blink away a few tears.
I am the type of person who needs constant reassurance that I'm doing the right thing. So when Kevin and I made the decision to pack up our family and move 500 miles away from everything I've ever known, I was beyond uncertain, scared, excited, heartbroken. Completely and utterly overwhelmed.
Was I doing the right thing for my family? Would my mother hate me for taking her three grandbabies so far away from her? What if my grandparents get sick? Will Sebastian experience a culture shock, moving from a rather small mostly-white community to a very diverse suburb on the outskirts of a big city? Will I be able to find a job if I need to, in a place where I don't know a single soul? I've always had at least a connection or two whenever I started a new job "up home."
So many questions unanswered. No reassurance that I was doing the best thing. But I knew. Deep down I knew that this is what our family needed. The time had come when our income was lower than our expenses. So when Kevin was offered a job making more money in a community where the cost-of-living was so much less than what we were used to... I would have been stupid, not to mention a bad parent, to talk myself out of it.
Indeed I did try. When it came time to say goodbye to my closest friend. My grandfather, crying for the first time since I was small. My mom. My children's Mum Mum. Crying. Heartbroken. When I had to tell her to leave because I couldn't bear to see her falling to pieces any longer. Knowing it was all my fault. "Just go!"
I tried to talk myself out of it. Just stay. Unload the truck. Put the pictures back on the wall. Put the coffee maker back on the counter and brew a cup for mom. Tell her you can't do it. You can't live without her being any farther than a 30-minute drive away. You can't live without your best friend, just a couple towns away to be there for you whenever you need a quick escape from the walls of your own home. Don't do it. You don't have to do it.
But I did it. Despite the absolute fear of the unknown, I took the biggest leap of faith I have ever taken in my entire life, and fell. Over and over again I fell. But every time, I got back up. I hyperventilated. I cried. I had anxiety attack after anxiety attack. I yelled. I sobbed. I gave the silent treatment. I turned the radio on and sang away my sorrows.
And hear I am, sitting by my fireplace all alone while the littles are asleep, knowing that this journey to a better life is far from over. But, son of a bitch! I did it! I DID IT! I looked fear in the face and I flipped it the bird! I'd be lying if I said he didn't spit in my face and kick me while I was down, but I still told him to kiss my ass!
"I'm proud of you." I am proud of myself. I'm proud of my husband. God knows how crazy it must have been for him! To leave his job of ten years! To start over in a brand new place, so foreign and fast paced (the job, not the south). But he's doing it. He's doing it for us. We're doing it.
Life has been hard. But my God has it been so good. And now I know that I'm not always going to have reassurance. Every single person I love will not always agree with my decisions. And I don't "need" them to. Sure, I'm going to want it. But even when I can not see the top of the staircase, I will keep climbing.
Wednesday, March 8, 2017
What a Beautiful Day for Heartbreak
It's beautiful here today in North Carolina. It's 64 degrees, the sun is shining, and there isn't a cloud in the sky.
The house is filled with the aroma of citrus and spices, along with the voice of Nathaniel Ratecliff on the radio. Sebastian's at school, Kevin's at work, Noah's napping, and Avery's eating her lunch.
Laika and I are sitting on the deck, listening to the birds calling to one another.
It really is a beautiful day.
But it's one of those days for me. I miss my mom and I just keep picturing her crying over Noah on my living room floor as he slept the night we said goodbye. My heart is broken.
I'm trying to be positive and I know this move was best, but it's really hard. I just try to keep busy so my thoughts aren't constantly racing.
I know it'll get better with time. But today, I just want to cry.
The house is filled with the aroma of citrus and spices, along with the voice of Nathaniel Ratecliff on the radio. Sebastian's at school, Kevin's at work, Noah's napping, and Avery's eating her lunch.
Laika and I are sitting on the deck, listening to the birds calling to one another.
It really is a beautiful day.
But it's one of those days for me. I miss my mom and I just keep picturing her crying over Noah on my living room floor as he slept the night we said goodbye. My heart is broken.
I'm trying to be positive and I know this move was best, but it's really hard. I just try to keep busy so my thoughts aren't constantly racing.
I know it'll get better with time. But today, I just want to cry.
Monday, March 6, 2017
Chaos Ensues! Oh, the Irony!
I knew it was too good to be true. Every night I wake up at least one time before 1am and 3am. I take a drink of water from my bedside table, toss and turn, and eventually scroll through Facebook until I fall asleep again.
My first five--yes, five!--nights in our new home were completely uninterrupted. Until tonight. I knew all along it must have been exhaustion and stress weighing on me, and sure enough, I think I've finally returned to my "normal" sleep pattern. Ugh.
So as you might have guessed, the craziness has not stopped. After we found a house here in NC, we returned to PA with my father-in-law, "Big Kev," so he could drive our moving truck to NC while my husband, Kevin, and I drove our personal vehicles. As we got into bed the first night back in PA, Kevin realized he forgot to lock the back of the truck, which we had already begun loading with our belongings. And thank God he did.
When Kevin and I went downstairs, Big Kev was sitting up on our couch, saying he didn't feel well. He followed us outside because he felt like he was going to be sick, then told us it felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest. I knew he was having a heart attack, but all of my in-laws are stubborn, so he said he was fine. Needless to say we took him to the ER, and sure enough, he was having a heart attack.
Not only were we worried about my father-in-law, but we were running on about 6 hours of sleep over the previous three days, and now we had three vehicles to two drivers. It was decided that Kevin would leave his truck in PA at my uncle's so Kevin could drive the moving truck to NC, and we'd come back in a week or two to pick it up. No biggy. Then the chaos with the moving truck happened.
Upon renting the truck, Kevin questioned whether the driver needed a CDL because it had air brakes. The woman at the rental company assure him it did not, so my husband drove the truck home. A day or two later, my uncle, who has a CDL, questioned it again. Not only did the truck have air brakes, but once it was loaded, even just a little bit, the truck was overweight to be driven by a non-CDL holder. Fantastic. We called the company again and this time we were told, "Oh, I guess you're right." I guess you're right?! You guess?! Now we either needed a CDL driver to drive our moving truck, or we needed two non-CDL trucks, which--of course--the rental company didn't have. Lovely.
My uncle couldn't get off work. My grandfather couldn't get off work. If my father-in-law were cleared by the doctor to drive by our moving date, he no longer had his CDL. Now what?
The rental company agreed to give us two more days because of their error. Too bad I couldn't get my CDL in that time frame! Kevin called his grandparents in NC, who mentioned two cousins with CDLs; one in PA, and one in NC. Grandma called cousin Donny in NC, who was just pulling out of the lot at his job to take a load to Long Island. He turned his tractor-trailer around, told his boss he had a family emergency, and agreed to come to PA that night to drive our moving truck for us. I am still unbelievably grateful and simply amazed by this incredibly selfless act. I could write an entire post on this act itself.
But how would Donny get to PA without bringing yet another vehicle without a driver? We later learned that Big Kev wasn't going to be released from the hospital for another day, hours after we had planned on leaving for NC. So Big Kevin's parents and fiancée, Regina, along with Donny, piled into Regina's car and headed north. Regina and gram would wait at the hospital until Big Kev was released, grandpa would ride with me to NC, and Donny would drive the truck. Kevin would follow a few hours later with his pickup, as he needed to get an alignment (another long story), and no one could do it on a Sunday.
Grandpa and I left Monday morning a bit after 5am, and Donny followed shortly after 7. A few hours into our trip, Kevin called to say he couldn't get an alignment because he needed to replace his universal joint. At this point, I just laughed out loud, and Grandpa joined in. What more could go wrong? I had to ask... Shortly after, Kev informed us that the "few" remaining things that hadn't fit inside the moving truck--a 26 footer!!--would not fit in his pickup. Rather than spending even more money on a trailer, Kevin took the two or three loads of stuff to my parents' house, almost 30 minutes away. Needless to say, he wasn't getting out of PA that night.
He finally arrived in NC around 2:30 the following afternoon, after getting two or three hours of sleep before making the nine-hour drive.
Since we've moved into our new home, we've had the plumber here twice, the fireplace fill our home with smoke, and the washer spray water all over the basement. Good times. Oh, and the kicker... residential moving trucks do not require a CDL driver. Isn't it ironic?
While I'd love to end there, I must say, this entire ordeal has made me realize just how many amazing people we have in our lives, and we are truly grateful to each and every one who have helped us in one way or another. And while it seems as though we keep getting kicked while we're down, not only do I know it could always be worse, but I am a firm believer that when God has a plan for you, the devil himself will step in and try to do whatever he can to stand in your way. But I assure you, the good Lord will provide!
My first five--yes, five!--nights in our new home were completely uninterrupted. Until tonight. I knew all along it must have been exhaustion and stress weighing on me, and sure enough, I think I've finally returned to my "normal" sleep pattern. Ugh.
So as you might have guessed, the craziness has not stopped. After we found a house here in NC, we returned to PA with my father-in-law, "Big Kev," so he could drive our moving truck to NC while my husband, Kevin, and I drove our personal vehicles. As we got into bed the first night back in PA, Kevin realized he forgot to lock the back of the truck, which we had already begun loading with our belongings. And thank God he did.
When Kevin and I went downstairs, Big Kev was sitting up on our couch, saying he didn't feel well. He followed us outside because he felt like he was going to be sick, then told us it felt like an elephant was sitting on his chest. I knew he was having a heart attack, but all of my in-laws are stubborn, so he said he was fine. Needless to say we took him to the ER, and sure enough, he was having a heart attack.
Not only were we worried about my father-in-law, but we were running on about 6 hours of sleep over the previous three days, and now we had three vehicles to two drivers. It was decided that Kevin would leave his truck in PA at my uncle's so Kevin could drive the moving truck to NC, and we'd come back in a week or two to pick it up. No biggy. Then the chaos with the moving truck happened.
Upon renting the truck, Kevin questioned whether the driver needed a CDL because it had air brakes. The woman at the rental company assure him it did not, so my husband drove the truck home. A day or two later, my uncle, who has a CDL, questioned it again. Not only did the truck have air brakes, but once it was loaded, even just a little bit, the truck was overweight to be driven by a non-CDL holder. Fantastic. We called the company again and this time we were told, "Oh, I guess you're right." I guess you're right?! You guess?! Now we either needed a CDL driver to drive our moving truck, or we needed two non-CDL trucks, which--of course--the rental company didn't have. Lovely.
My uncle couldn't get off work. My grandfather couldn't get off work. If my father-in-law were cleared by the doctor to drive by our moving date, he no longer had his CDL. Now what?
The rental company agreed to give us two more days because of their error. Too bad I couldn't get my CDL in that time frame! Kevin called his grandparents in NC, who mentioned two cousins with CDLs; one in PA, and one in NC. Grandma called cousin Donny in NC, who was just pulling out of the lot at his job to take a load to Long Island. He turned his tractor-trailer around, told his boss he had a family emergency, and agreed to come to PA that night to drive our moving truck for us. I am still unbelievably grateful and simply amazed by this incredibly selfless act. I could write an entire post on this act itself.
But how would Donny get to PA without bringing yet another vehicle without a driver? We later learned that Big Kev wasn't going to be released from the hospital for another day, hours after we had planned on leaving for NC. So Big Kevin's parents and fiancée, Regina, along with Donny, piled into Regina's car and headed north. Regina and gram would wait at the hospital until Big Kev was released, grandpa would ride with me to NC, and Donny would drive the truck. Kevin would follow a few hours later with his pickup, as he needed to get an alignment (another long story), and no one could do it on a Sunday.
Grandpa and I left Monday morning a bit after 5am, and Donny followed shortly after 7. A few hours into our trip, Kevin called to say he couldn't get an alignment because he needed to replace his universal joint. At this point, I just laughed out loud, and Grandpa joined in. What more could go wrong? I had to ask... Shortly after, Kev informed us that the "few" remaining things that hadn't fit inside the moving truck--a 26 footer!!--would not fit in his pickup. Rather than spending even more money on a trailer, Kevin took the two or three loads of stuff to my parents' house, almost 30 minutes away. Needless to say, he wasn't getting out of PA that night.
He finally arrived in NC around 2:30 the following afternoon, after getting two or three hours of sleep before making the nine-hour drive.
Since we've moved into our new home, we've had the plumber here twice, the fireplace fill our home with smoke, and the washer spray water all over the basement. Good times. Oh, and the kicker... residential moving trucks do not require a CDL driver. Isn't it ironic?
While I'd love to end there, I must say, this entire ordeal has made me realize just how many amazing people we have in our lives, and we are truly grateful to each and every one who have helped us in one way or another. And while it seems as though we keep getting kicked while we're down, not only do I know it could always be worse, but I am a firm believer that when God has a plan for you, the devil himself will step in and try to do whatever he can to stand in your way. But I assure you, the good Lord will provide!
Thursday, February 23, 2017
We Have a Home!
We have a home!! As of February 27th, my family will be living in Winston-Salem, North Carolina! It has been a long and bumpy ride--and it isn't over yet!--but we are so grateful for the people who have made this possible for us.
After the first house we had lined up fell through, I filled out a rental application through a realtor, whom I called and explained our situation. My sister-in-law drove me and my husband to the realtor's office yesterday, where we learned that FIVE other people filled out applications for the same property that morning! We needed to kick it into high gear.
Our realtor, Kellie, needed to speak with our current landlord to confirm our information, and the home would be ours. The only problem was, she couldn't get in touch with either of the landlords; brothers who also own a restaurant and a landscaping company, and are usually too busy to answer their phones right away.
If any of the five applicants were approved to rent the property, it would be promised to whomever delivered the security deposit to the realtor first. The clock was ticking.
My husband, Kevin, called both brothers and was successful at getting in touch with one of them! Kellie spoke to him, but unfortunately, he was unable to confirm our information at the time, as his business manager takes care of everything. He said he'd call Kellie first thing in the morning with our information. Needless to say, I was stressing. We needed this place and we were running on empty.
At 9am today, Kellie called Kevin. She had yet to hear from our landlord. So, I went right to the source. I called the business manager, explained our predicament, and she ensured us that she would call Kellie right away. Thankfully, she did. At 10:30am, our application was approved! But, we still had to deliver the security deposit before any other applicants had the chance to do so.
I was ready to go, but Kevin "needed" to wash his grandfather's van. So I waited... and waited.
We finally arrived at the realty office two hours later to pay our deposit. It turns out, another application had just been approved, but Kellie hadn't informed them yet because she was busy with other phone calls and paperwork. The house was ours!
I firmly belive that everything happens for a reason. Things didn't work out with the first property because it wasn't meant to be. It was frustrating and disappointing, but in the end, everything worked out, and we'll be moving into a cute little home on Monday.
Check back in the coming days to continue following us on this exciting journey!
After the first house we had lined up fell through, I filled out a rental application through a realtor, whom I called and explained our situation. My sister-in-law drove me and my husband to the realtor's office yesterday, where we learned that FIVE other people filled out applications for the same property that morning! We needed to kick it into high gear.
Our realtor, Kellie, needed to speak with our current landlord to confirm our information, and the home would be ours. The only problem was, she couldn't get in touch with either of the landlords; brothers who also own a restaurant and a landscaping company, and are usually too busy to answer their phones right away.
If any of the five applicants were approved to rent the property, it would be promised to whomever delivered the security deposit to the realtor first. The clock was ticking.
My husband, Kevin, called both brothers and was successful at getting in touch with one of them! Kellie spoke to him, but unfortunately, he was unable to confirm our information at the time, as his business manager takes care of everything. He said he'd call Kellie first thing in the morning with our information. Needless to say, I was stressing. We needed this place and we were running on empty.
At 9am today, Kellie called Kevin. She had yet to hear from our landlord. So, I went right to the source. I called the business manager, explained our predicament, and she ensured us that she would call Kellie right away. Thankfully, she did. At 10:30am, our application was approved! But, we still had to deliver the security deposit before any other applicants had the chance to do so.
I was ready to go, but Kevin "needed" to wash his grandfather's van. So I waited... and waited.
We finally arrived at the realty office two hours later to pay our deposit. It turns out, another application had just been approved, but Kellie hadn't informed them yet because she was busy with other phone calls and paperwork. The house was ours!
I firmly belive that everything happens for a reason. Things didn't work out with the first property because it wasn't meant to be. It was frustrating and disappointing, but in the end, everything worked out, and we'll be moving into a cute little home on Monday.
Check back in the coming days to continue following us on this exciting journey!
Sunday, February 19, 2017
Aint Nobody Got Time Fo' Dat!
So our journey to North Carolina is beginning! And what kind of journey would it be without starting off with a huge road block?
Kevin and I found a house, close to his grandparents' home and just a half an hour from his new job. My sister-in-law, Tina, gave us a tour of the home via FB Messenger on Monday and we spoke to the owner afterward, who said the house was ours! All we had to do was send the security deposit to Tina on Friday, who would then have a paper signed by the owner stating the deposit was received and we would move in on Monday, February 28th.
Friday came and Kevin called the owner, who proceeded to tell him that the home had been rented to someone else, "but I have plenty of mobile homes available for rent."
Are you kidding me?! Needles to say we are nothing short of outraged. A mobile home will not suffice for our family of five, but even if it would, there is no way I would ever rent a home from this poor excuse for a man.
So here we are, a week before our moving date, without a house. Over the course of this next week, we must finish packing, make a quick two-day trip to North Carolina to hopefully find and secure a home, obtain a salvaged title for Kevin's truck so we're able to drive it to NC, host our going-away get-together on Saturday night, pack the moving truck on Sunday, and leave for NC on Monday morning. Is this even possible?!
So here I am, so stressed out and worried that I'm not even sure where to begin. All I really want to do is sip a glass of wine while soaking in a bubble bath. Unfortunately, "Ain't nobody got time fo' dat!"
Follow our journey to NC here at 56 Sarah Street, and hopefully the next post will be full of good news rather than additional road blocks and detours! And if any of you are so inclined to help us pack and load the moving truck, you will not have to ask us twice! ;)
Kevin and I found a house, close to his grandparents' home and just a half an hour from his new job. My sister-in-law, Tina, gave us a tour of the home via FB Messenger on Monday and we spoke to the owner afterward, who said the house was ours! All we had to do was send the security deposit to Tina on Friday, who would then have a paper signed by the owner stating the deposit was received and we would move in on Monday, February 28th.
Friday came and Kevin called the owner, who proceeded to tell him that the home had been rented to someone else, "but I have plenty of mobile homes available for rent."
Are you kidding me?! Needles to say we are nothing short of outraged. A mobile home will not suffice for our family of five, but even if it would, there is no way I would ever rent a home from this poor excuse for a man.
So here we are, a week before our moving date, without a house. Over the course of this next week, we must finish packing, make a quick two-day trip to North Carolina to hopefully find and secure a home, obtain a salvaged title for Kevin's truck so we're able to drive it to NC, host our going-away get-together on Saturday night, pack the moving truck on Sunday, and leave for NC on Monday morning. Is this even possible?!
So here I am, so stressed out and worried that I'm not even sure where to begin. All I really want to do is sip a glass of wine while soaking in a bubble bath. Unfortunately, "Ain't nobody got time fo' dat!"
Follow our journey to NC here at 56 Sarah Street, and hopefully the next post will be full of good news rather than additional road blocks and detours! And if any of you are so inclined to help us pack and load the moving truck, you will not have to ask us twice! ;)
Saturday, January 28, 2017
I Want My Mama
I'm moving away from the only place I've ever known. Five hundred miles away. While I must admit that I am so excited to start a new life in a new home in a new town, I am also completely terrified. I'm moving 500 miles away from my birthplace, my hometown, my very first everything. And I'm moving away from so many people I love... my eight-year-old neice, my brother and sister, my grandparents, best friend, aunts and uncles. I'm moving 500 miles away from my mom, and I'm taking her grandchildren with me.
My heart has been breaking since my husband and I discussed the possibility of moving after he was offered a better job in North Carolina. There are so many things to be grateful for that come along with this move. Not only will we get to enjoy a lower cost of living, but we'll also be closer to my in-laws, who moved to NC more than 10 years ago. I truly am excited for this new journey on which our family is about to embark. But I need my mama.
My parents come over for dinner every Tuesday night. Together my mom and I go grocery shopping, we visit my brother, help Sebastian with his homework, cook dinner, bake cookies. My parents go to the zoo with my family every Mother's Day. We spend every holiday together. Sure, they can come visit. But how am I going to get by without my mom being a short 20-minute drive away?
I know I'll survive. My parents will visit us, we'll visit them, and I can call my mom every day. But this is one of the biggest changes I have ever had to face and I am so overwhelmed. There are so many things to do in a month's time (the shortest month of the year, nonetheless) and I just don't wanna! I know, I'm being a big baby. And I know that my next post (maybe less than a year and a half from now!) will describe how much we're enjoying the warmer weather, the lower housing costs, and most importantly, the memories we'll be making with my husband's father, sisters, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. I truly am excited and a part of me can not wait to be decorating our new home in a town where WE are the ones with an accent! But that little girl inside of me just needs her mommy. ❤
My heart has been breaking since my husband and I discussed the possibility of moving after he was offered a better job in North Carolina. There are so many things to be grateful for that come along with this move. Not only will we get to enjoy a lower cost of living, but we'll also be closer to my in-laws, who moved to NC more than 10 years ago. I truly am excited for this new journey on which our family is about to embark. But I need my mama.
My parents come over for dinner every Tuesday night. Together my mom and I go grocery shopping, we visit my brother, help Sebastian with his homework, cook dinner, bake cookies. My parents go to the zoo with my family every Mother's Day. We spend every holiday together. Sure, they can come visit. But how am I going to get by without my mom being a short 20-minute drive away?
I know I'll survive. My parents will visit us, we'll visit them, and I can call my mom every day. But this is one of the biggest changes I have ever had to face and I am so overwhelmed. There are so many things to do in a month's time (the shortest month of the year, nonetheless) and I just don't wanna! I know, I'm being a big baby. And I know that my next post (maybe less than a year and a half from now!) will describe how much we're enjoying the warmer weather, the lower housing costs, and most importantly, the memories we'll be making with my husband's father, sisters, grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins. I truly am excited and a part of me can not wait to be decorating our new home in a town where WE are the ones with an accent! But that little girl inside of me just needs her mommy. ❤
Tuesday, September 1, 2015
A Mommy's Unforgettable Beginning of Kindergarten
I created email accounts for both of my sons where I send photos of special occasions or random moments. When they're older, I'll give them the passwords to the accounts and we'll look back at all the memories together (I wonder if there will be enough storage space...).
Well, my oldest son started kindergarten yesterday and I have been a basket case of emotions (I know, I know: you're all shocked). I sat down tonight and decided to email him a letter, all about his first two days of school and all about the roller coaster of emotions that a mommy feels upon her baby's first day of kindergarten. Yes, I cried. Again.
Dear Sebastian,
Yesterday was your first day of Kindergarten! I snuck into your room the night before (and fought the overwhelming urge to crawl into bed with you) and saw you fast asleep with your monkeys snuggled against you underneath your Ninja Turtles tshirt and all I could do was cry. My baby boy is growing up so fast, yet there you are, asleep with the monkey that you haven't been without since you were six months old.
We drove you to school because we thought the bus driver missed your stop (turns out he picks you up on his way back) and after a quick hug and kiss, you were off, smiling with the teacher who walked you inside. I watched you all the way through the doors and you never looked back once. At work, I thought of you constantly and worried about things that only mommys worry about... Would you be able to open your snack by yourself? Would you be included in the conversation at lunch time? Would you have someone to sit with on the bus the next day since you only take the bus in the morning and not the afternoon? Would you know to raise your hand right away if you need to use the bathroom? Would you have fun?
But at the end of the day, I waited for you in the parking lot while daddy went inside to pick you up and when you came out smiling, everything was okay. You gave me an apple "cause parents are teachers, too!" and told me that you had Oreos after school. Your teacher is nice and a boy named Ben got yelled at already for telling the teacher no, but you wouldn't misbehave like he did because "I don't want to find out where the principal's office is!" You had art class with Mrs. D and you drew a picture of yourself as a red ninja.
In the cafeteria, there was food that you could buy and they had pizza, so you'd like to buy lunch there, too (you're starting tomorrow, which I'm sure I'll worry about!).
This morning you took the bus to school after another quick hug and kiss. You hopped on and took the first seat and then Codi slid in next to you. You blew me a kiss and the bus pulled away, leaving mommy behind to shed a few tears before heading to work to once again think of all the things you would be doing today.
When I got home you told me all about the cafeteria and how they had pizza, again! You went to the library and you had to be quiet there, but you got to pick out a book all by yourself. You chose "Owen" and we read it tonight before bed with Noah (who was trying to bite your chin!).
You have gym class tomorrow and you think you'll go to the basketball courts. You chose an orange tangerine juice box and pretzel sticks with cheese dip for your afternoon snack (you eat lunch at 10:35!), and you'd like to have pizza for lunch (surprise!).
And mommy cries. Because I feel like my baby boy is growing up too fast. I can't even blink without missing the little moments that are so important. I remember the first moment I held you and even before that, the first time I heard your heart beat.
So how did you get to be a big boy, riding the school bus and buying your own lunch? How did five years pass by so quickly? And why can't it just. slow. down?
Tomorrow is your third day already and before I know it, it will be your last day of kindergarten, your first day of high school, your last day of college, your wedding day... Because time just keeps on passing us by.
And THAT is why mommy cries. Not because I worry about you. I DO worry about you, but that's not why I cry, because I know that you'll be just fine. I cry because my baby isn't a baby anymore. I cry because you're getting older so quickly and I don't want to miss a moment. I cry because I DO miss things, things I can't get back.
And I cry because I'm pregnant and hormonal, but we'll save that story for another time (which I'm sure we'll be able to laugh about later. I hope so anyway. I can be pretty... crazy these days.).
Anyway, I love you so much and no matter if you're in kindergarten or high school, college or a retirement home, you will always be my baby boy and I will never stop thinking about you when we're a part.
And hopefully one day you'll understand why it hurt me so much to send you to your room or put you in a timeout, to leave the carnival without allowing you to go on the rides or make you watch your friends at karate do the balloon toss while you sat out. It hurts me because I hate to see you hurt. It breaks my heart because those are moments that neither you nor I are ever going to get back to enjoy.
But! This isn't a sad story! I am proud of you and your confidence! I'm proud of your feelings for others and the way you want to make sure all the kids at school have a "partner" to do things with like you have Codi (because you ride the same bus and you're in the same class). I'm proud of the young man you are becoming, even though sometimes I have to repeat myself or send you to your room.
I'm excited for all that this year will have to offer you and I can't wait for all the ways I know we'll be able to spend time together; like open house next week! I can't wait for you to show me your classroom and introduce me to your teacher!
Okay! Okay! Enough! I love you so much, always and forever!
Love, Mama xoxo
Well, my oldest son started kindergarten yesterday and I have been a basket case of emotions (I know, I know: you're all shocked). I sat down tonight and decided to email him a letter, all about his first two days of school and all about the roller coaster of emotions that a mommy feels upon her baby's first day of kindergarten. Yes, I cried. Again.
Dear Sebastian,
Yesterday was your first day of Kindergarten! I snuck into your room the night before (and fought the overwhelming urge to crawl into bed with you) and saw you fast asleep with your monkeys snuggled against you underneath your Ninja Turtles tshirt and all I could do was cry. My baby boy is growing up so fast, yet there you are, asleep with the monkey that you haven't been without since you were six months old.
We drove you to school because we thought the bus driver missed your stop (turns out he picks you up on his way back) and after a quick hug and kiss, you were off, smiling with the teacher who walked you inside. I watched you all the way through the doors and you never looked back once. At work, I thought of you constantly and worried about things that only mommys worry about... Would you be able to open your snack by yourself? Would you be included in the conversation at lunch time? Would you have someone to sit with on the bus the next day since you only take the bus in the morning and not the afternoon? Would you know to raise your hand right away if you need to use the bathroom? Would you have fun?
But at the end of the day, I waited for you in the parking lot while daddy went inside to pick you up and when you came out smiling, everything was okay. You gave me an apple "cause parents are teachers, too!" and told me that you had Oreos after school. Your teacher is nice and a boy named Ben got yelled at already for telling the teacher no, but you wouldn't misbehave like he did because "I don't want to find out where the principal's office is!" You had art class with Mrs. D and you drew a picture of yourself as a red ninja.
In the cafeteria, there was food that you could buy and they had pizza, so you'd like to buy lunch there, too (you're starting tomorrow, which I'm sure I'll worry about!).
This morning you took the bus to school after another quick hug and kiss. You hopped on and took the first seat and then Codi slid in next to you. You blew me a kiss and the bus pulled away, leaving mommy behind to shed a few tears before heading to work to once again think of all the things you would be doing today.
When I got home you told me all about the cafeteria and how they had pizza, again! You went to the library and you had to be quiet there, but you got to pick out a book all by yourself. You chose "Owen" and we read it tonight before bed with Noah (who was trying to bite your chin!).
You have gym class tomorrow and you think you'll go to the basketball courts. You chose an orange tangerine juice box and pretzel sticks with cheese dip for your afternoon snack (you eat lunch at 10:35!), and you'd like to have pizza for lunch (surprise!).
And mommy cries. Because I feel like my baby boy is growing up too fast. I can't even blink without missing the little moments that are so important. I remember the first moment I held you and even before that, the first time I heard your heart beat.
So how did you get to be a big boy, riding the school bus and buying your own lunch? How did five years pass by so quickly? And why can't it just. slow. down?
Tomorrow is your third day already and before I know it, it will be your last day of kindergarten, your first day of high school, your last day of college, your wedding day... Because time just keeps on passing us by.
And THAT is why mommy cries. Not because I worry about you. I DO worry about you, but that's not why I cry, because I know that you'll be just fine. I cry because my baby isn't a baby anymore. I cry because you're getting older so quickly and I don't want to miss a moment. I cry because I DO miss things, things I can't get back.
And I cry because I'm pregnant and hormonal, but we'll save that story for another time (which I'm sure we'll be able to laugh about later. I hope so anyway. I can be pretty... crazy these days.).
Anyway, I love you so much and no matter if you're in kindergarten or high school, college or a retirement home, you will always be my baby boy and I will never stop thinking about you when we're a part.
And hopefully one day you'll understand why it hurt me so much to send you to your room or put you in a timeout, to leave the carnival without allowing you to go on the rides or make you watch your friends at karate do the balloon toss while you sat out. It hurts me because I hate to see you hurt. It breaks my heart because those are moments that neither you nor I are ever going to get back to enjoy.
But! This isn't a sad story! I am proud of you and your confidence! I'm proud of your feelings for others and the way you want to make sure all the kids at school have a "partner" to do things with like you have Codi (because you ride the same bus and you're in the same class). I'm proud of the young man you are becoming, even though sometimes I have to repeat myself or send you to your room.
I'm excited for all that this year will have to offer you and I can't wait for all the ways I know we'll be able to spend time together; like open house next week! I can't wait for you to show me your classroom and introduce me to your teacher!
Okay! Okay! Enough! I love you so much, always and forever!
Love, Mama xoxo
Wednesday, August 19, 2015
Ten Things I'm Thankful For
Excuse my language, but I must admit, I bitch a lot. Lately my rants have been all about how people feel the need to create problems where there are none; toys and gender, women walking around topless because men do, a Catholic priest refusing to perform a marriage ceremony for a gay couple... The list goes on.
My point has nothing to do with any of these topics, as I'd like to save my rants for another day. Today, I'd like to stop my bitching and list just 10 things that I am thankful for...
1. This moment. Right now, I am cuddling with my nine-month-old baby boy, who is snoring so perfectly in my ear, as my unborn daughter kicks and stretches in my belly.
2. Sebastian, my five-year-old, who makes me laugh every single day, even though he sometimes drives me crazy.
3. AC! A luxury that I am so grateful for, especially during thsee dog days of August when I am waddling around, pregnant and uncomfortable.
4. Clean water. Warm water. Cool water. Whichever I desire, I have clean, running water to drink, to bathe in.
5. A safe place to raise my children. Tragic things can happen anywhere, at any time. But my neighborhood isn't the scene of drive-by shootings or suicide bombings. Thanks be to God that I have been given this blessing that so many others are denied.
6. My job. I am not a millionaire and I am not able to stay home with my children like I'd love to do. But I have a job when so many others do not. My husband and I may struggle sometimes to make ends meet, but we do it by the grace of God, because we both have the opportunity to work.
7. Healthy food for my family to eat. It may not always be the most nutritious, but it's healthy and store-bought. I don't have to dig in a dumpster for my next meal and I can't even begin to imagine if I had to.
8. I'm able to make other people smile. I'm sure sometimes people want to tell me to shutup. But when I'm not being a huge PITA by ranting or being a hormonal pregnant woman, I make people laugh. And that makes me feel like I'm doing something right.
9. My husband is a morning person! I am not a morning person and I struggle every day to get out of bed on time. He, on the other hand, jumps up when his alarm sounds and begins his day. Because he knows I have a hard time getting a move on, he makes my coffee and brings it to me in bed; puts together lunch for me; takes the kids lunches, bags, etc. out to my car so I only have to carry the baby and my purse; wakes Sebastian and gets his breakfast ready while he dresses; and gets himself ready for work. He does all of this in an hour and it makes my day so much easier. Today he had to he to work a few hours earlier and, what do you know, I was late to work because I had to do it all on my own!
10. The amazing people in my life. My true friends, my family, my clients who are some of the kindest and most generous people I have ever met. I certainly couldn't get through each day without them.
God has truly blessed me and I have so much to be thankful for, but I'll leave it at this for now. What are you thankful for?
My point has nothing to do with any of these topics, as I'd like to save my rants for another day. Today, I'd like to stop my bitching and list just 10 things that I am thankful for...
1. This moment. Right now, I am cuddling with my nine-month-old baby boy, who is snoring so perfectly in my ear, as my unborn daughter kicks and stretches in my belly.
2. Sebastian, my five-year-old, who makes me laugh every single day, even though he sometimes drives me crazy.
3. AC! A luxury that I am so grateful for, especially during thsee dog days of August when I am waddling around, pregnant and uncomfortable.
4. Clean water. Warm water. Cool water. Whichever I desire, I have clean, running water to drink, to bathe in.
5. A safe place to raise my children. Tragic things can happen anywhere, at any time. But my neighborhood isn't the scene of drive-by shootings or suicide bombings. Thanks be to God that I have been given this blessing that so many others are denied.
6. My job. I am not a millionaire and I am not able to stay home with my children like I'd love to do. But I have a job when so many others do not. My husband and I may struggle sometimes to make ends meet, but we do it by the grace of God, because we both have the opportunity to work.
7. Healthy food for my family to eat. It may not always be the most nutritious, but it's healthy and store-bought. I don't have to dig in a dumpster for my next meal and I can't even begin to imagine if I had to.
8. I'm able to make other people smile. I'm sure sometimes people want to tell me to shutup. But when I'm not being a huge PITA by ranting or being a hormonal pregnant woman, I make people laugh. And that makes me feel like I'm doing something right.
9. My husband is a morning person! I am not a morning person and I struggle every day to get out of bed on time. He, on the other hand, jumps up when his alarm sounds and begins his day. Because he knows I have a hard time getting a move on, he makes my coffee and brings it to me in bed; puts together lunch for me; takes the kids lunches, bags, etc. out to my car so I only have to carry the baby and my purse; wakes Sebastian and gets his breakfast ready while he dresses; and gets himself ready for work. He does all of this in an hour and it makes my day so much easier. Today he had to he to work a few hours earlier and, what do you know, I was late to work because I had to do it all on my own!
10. The amazing people in my life. My true friends, my family, my clients who are some of the kindest and most generous people I have ever met. I certainly couldn't get through each day without them.
God has truly blessed me and I have so much to be thankful for, but I'll leave it at this for now. What are you thankful for?
Friday, August 14, 2015
Describe the Light...
Writing prompt: Describe the light.
The light in my bedroom every night is cast by our video monitor, which is a truly awesome thing to have for our kids. Yet the light, for me, is a distraction. It doesn't bother my husband, who can fall asleep on command and just snores away, but I believe it's one of the reasons I can't stay asleep at night--add in the discomforts of being in the my third trimester of pregnancy and I barely sleep at all. Hence, it's almost 3am as I write this.
Now, I know I'm going to be crazy tired when my alarm goes off in a few hours and I'm going to have to force myself out of bed (my husband can also wake up and immediately get out of bed on command). But, what else can you do when you can't fall back asleep?
So, back to the light. Can I get some reader involvement with this one? I see my Facebook friends answering random questions all the time and I've had many of you tell me that you miss reading my blog when I'm not actively writing. However, I rarely see any comments, likes, etc. So, I ask you to simply, "describe the light." Interpret that as you will.
The light in my bedroom every night is cast by our video monitor, which is a truly awesome thing to have for our kids. Yet the light, for me, is a distraction. It doesn't bother my husband, who can fall asleep on command and just snores away, but I believe it's one of the reasons I can't stay asleep at night--add in the discomforts of being in the my third trimester of pregnancy and I barely sleep at all. Hence, it's almost 3am as I write this.
Now, I know I'm going to be crazy tired when my alarm goes off in a few hours and I'm going to have to force myself out of bed (my husband can also wake up and immediately get out of bed on command). But, what else can you do when you can't fall back asleep?
So, back to the light. Can I get some reader involvement with this one? I see my Facebook friends answering random questions all the time and I've had many of you tell me that you miss reading my blog when I'm not actively writing. However, I rarely see any comments, likes, etc. So, I ask you to simply, "describe the light." Interpret that as you will.
Saturday, August 8, 2015
What's in a Dream?
Kevin and I are driving down the highway on a crisp fall day, the sun shining brightly, not a cloud in the sky. We pass a hospital as a helicopter is getting ready to land on the roof. I point it out to Kevin, who's focused on the road. Another hospital is ahead. This one, too, will be having a helicopter land on its roof within minutes.
We continue driving down the long highway and an airplane is falling quickly from the sky, not in a nose dive, but in a roll, wing over wing. Smoke begins pouring from the engines.
Something is very wrong. I have a gut wrenching feeling that the world is about to be thrown into chaos.
The road we're driving on is no longer made of black top, but an electronic screen that now looks like the ocean, except for the glitches that cause the screen to go blank. There are animated sharks and schools of fish. But unlike the pavement, the screen isn't flat. It is rising and falling like waves, throwing vehicles in every direction as drivers fail to keep control.
All the vehicles are now afloat as the screen turns to water and we are tossed upon the raging waves.
And then I wake up.
We continue driving down the long highway and an airplane is falling quickly from the sky, not in a nose dive, but in a roll, wing over wing. Smoke begins pouring from the engines.
Something is very wrong. I have a gut wrenching feeling that the world is about to be thrown into chaos.
The road we're driving on is no longer made of black top, but an electronic screen that now looks like the ocean, except for the glitches that cause the screen to go blank. There are animated sharks and schools of fish. But unlike the pavement, the screen isn't flat. It is rising and falling like waves, throwing vehicles in every direction as drivers fail to keep control.
All the vehicles are now afloat as the screen turns to water and we are tossed upon the raging waves.
And then I wake up.
Tuesday, August 4, 2015
Reminders of the Ones We Love
I walked into my bedroom tonight and stopped in my tracks. For just a second, it smelled exactly the way my grandmother's sheets had always smelled. I can't describe it any other way. I took a second sniff of the air, but the scent had gone. I smiled and continued on, as I am sure this was my grandmother's way of telling me that she's with me.
Whenever I'm going through a rough time, my grandmother always makes her presence known. A few years ago I was struggling with some very stressful things, so I went to my grandmother's grave and talked to her. I asked that she would send me a sign to let me know that everything would be okay. Because I always question everything, I was more specific. "Send me a yellow butterfly."
I waited a little while and looked around, but saw nothing. I didn't want to lose hope, but it was hard to have faith when I felt like I was hitting rock bottom. I got in my car and drove away.
Shortly before I arrived home, a yellow butterfly landed on my windshield, rested for a few seconds, then flew away. Just when I was least expecting it. And so I have seen many yellow butterflies since, but it often happens when I'm worried about something and I feel a little lost. Seeing that yellow butterfly, a sure sign for me of my grandmother's presence, reminds me that everything is going to be okay. It also reminds me that no matter how much I miss her, she's always here with me.
Have your loved ones who have passed sent you signs that they're with you?
Whenever I'm going through a rough time, my grandmother always makes her presence known. A few years ago I was struggling with some very stressful things, so I went to my grandmother's grave and talked to her. I asked that she would send me a sign to let me know that everything would be okay. Because I always question everything, I was more specific. "Send me a yellow butterfly."
I waited a little while and looked around, but saw nothing. I didn't want to lose hope, but it was hard to have faith when I felt like I was hitting rock bottom. I got in my car and drove away.
Shortly before I arrived home, a yellow butterfly landed on my windshield, rested for a few seconds, then flew away. Just when I was least expecting it. And so I have seen many yellow butterflies since, but it often happens when I'm worried about something and I feel a little lost. Seeing that yellow butterfly, a sure sign for me of my grandmother's presence, reminds me that everything is going to be okay. It also reminds me that no matter how much I miss her, she's always here with me.
Have your loved ones who have passed sent you signs that they're with you?
Saturday, August 1, 2015
A Look Inside My Random Thoughts Part III
Lemon lime glucola. Better than orange, but still disgusting. I feel like a kid on Halloween after eating too much candy. I want to go for a walk to lower my blood sugar so I can pass this damn test, but unfortunately I can't leave the waiting room and it's not big enough to do a few laps in. So I guess I just have to hope and pray, which I'm doing a lot of. I really don't want to deal with these nutritionalists...
Boy, am I hungry. A stick of string cheese and 32 oz. of water really isn't a very satisfying breakfast. Could be worse...
I hope I make it back home in time to go along with my son to karate!
I still need to make a covered dish for my family reunion today. I want to make my grandmother's punch bowl dessert, but I always end up crying because it's not the same. Oh, how I miss her. I wish she were here to meet her great grandchildren. To spoil them with every treasure they find at all the yard sales and teach them how to play bingo and show them how to bake cookies and make funnel cake...
Mmmm... nope, nevermind. I want nothing to do with anything made with sugar or carbs right now. The thought alone... ewe. This glucola makes it hard to think of anything else.
Walkin' on walkin' on broken glass!
I still have to get that window fixed. Oh, and that window... good times.
Thirty three minutes until I can get pricked and be on my way. Oh! Thirty two! Even better!
Thirty two. That's how many teeth were on the gear of the part for the window that I can't roll down. I've had some luck with car windows! I know the windows in my Mustang worked properly because my passengers had to climb through the window to get in. Ahhh, I miss that car.
And my LeBaron. That window was a pain in the ass. And the loud exhaust... or lack of. But it was a convertible! Perfect for cool summer nights and crisp fall days. I miss that car, too...
This place is jumping! Lots of people getting blood drawn. And at least one other person has to drink that liquid nastiness. The taste I can deal with, but My Lanta, how horribly it makes me feel... yuck.
I just want to go home and eat toast and go back to sleep for a little while.
Hey! That women's belly is as big as mine and she's due the same time I am! I wonder if people remind her a thousand times a day how "big" she is. "You're never going to make it to October." "Are you sure there aren't twins in there?" "I think they got your date wrong."
I think you're rude. That's what I think. Why do people think that seeing a pregnant woman gives them the right to comment on her weight and size?
I found out I was pregnant with my third child when my second was only three months old. I didn't lose any baby weight in between in case it's any of your business. Oh, and if you're really interested, again, because my son was only three months old when I found out I was expecting baby number three, I am 100 percent positive that my due date is not wrong.
I wonder when she'll be born. Early I'm sure, but I also tend to jinx things. My luck she'll stay in that cozy little home until I'm 43 weeks along or something crazy. Nah, the doctor will probably tell me she's huge like they said Noah was. Ha! He arrived and weighed less than they thought he had three weeks prior. Good thing. I was scared I was going to be delivering a 10 lb. baby. Better to think big in the long run!
Wow, that kid is loud. Makes me feel better about Sebastian's craziness in public. Generally he's pretty good, but he is a five year old boy with a lot of energy! Come to think of it, he did yell pretty loudly last time he was here with me. But he was saying thank you so at least he was using his manners!
Soooo sleepy! It's like drinking a crappy energy drink and crashing a half an hour later. Ooh! Only 15 minutes left!
I think I'll go to the bathroom and do some jumping jacks or something. Maybe that will do the trick. I really don't want to do the three-hour test. THAT is a real pain!
Well, I'm off to get pricked! Hey, now that I think of it... they never tested my sugar to begin with to make sure it wasn't too high or low for me to do the test in the first place! Good times.
Thursday, July 30, 2015
What Animals Scare You?
Random writing prompt: What animals scare you and why?
Hmmm... The first thing that comes to mind are jellyfish. But really the fear is any type of water that I can't see clearly in. But I'll try to keep this simple and stick to animals or else I'll start going on and on about fearing the unknown.
So. Jellyfish, because who enjoys being stung by a jellyfish? And crabs, and sea urchins, and sharks, and all of those creatures who could hurt me when I step onto their front porch!
And tics (do they count as an animal?)! Those little S.O.B.s scare me because you never know they're on you until they have their tiny little heads embedded in your body, sucking your blood and replacing it with Lyme disease!
There are other animals that I would fear if I were put in a position to be afraid, but there aren't any I can think of that I wouldn't approach at a safe distance, in a safe environment if given the opportunity. Hell, I love picking up horseshoe crabs for my son to admire when my family goes to the bay, but throw me in the water with one and I have a mini panic attack until I'm a safe distance away. So I guess it really does go back to the water and not the animals themselves, per say... throw me in the water, without a boat, and I'm helpless. It could be a freshwater lake and I will still be positive that I'm going to be eaten alive by some bottom dwelling monster. But stick me in a boat out at sea and I will HOPE Jaws swims by for me to catch a glimpse of!
I've already approached snakes without a second thought so I could grab a photo, and just last week I rescued a snapping turtle from certain death. But again, wouldn't want to be in the water with one!
I'd love to go on a safari and see lions and hippos (who kill way more people every year than sharks do!), take a boat through the Everglades and see alligators and crocodiles... But surprise! Wouldn't want to knock on their front door without a boat!
I remember swimming in a slate quarry with friends as a teenager and I absolutely panicked as soon as I jumped in (which took me a very long time to do). I couldnt see the bottom and certainly couldn't touch bottom without diving gear and oxygen. Chances of me being attacked by a sea creature there were... well, impossible. But I couldn't see. Peace out, cub scout! That was the last time I ever swam in a quarry.
I do continue to venture to the beach on occasion, but usually we just make a quick splash for a few minutes or so before spending the day at the bay, where I can see through the water more easily and worry much less about getting stung or pinched or eaten!
Well, I guess I didn't really stick to animals since I kept coming back to deep, dark and murky waters, but that's what I'm truly scared of, I suppose! So, what animals scare you and why? Or, if you're like me, what animal habitat scares you?
Hmmm... The first thing that comes to mind are jellyfish. But really the fear is any type of water that I can't see clearly in. But I'll try to keep this simple and stick to animals or else I'll start going on and on about fearing the unknown.
So. Jellyfish, because who enjoys being stung by a jellyfish? And crabs, and sea urchins, and sharks, and all of those creatures who could hurt me when I step onto their front porch!
And tics (do they count as an animal?)! Those little S.O.B.s scare me because you never know they're on you until they have their tiny little heads embedded in your body, sucking your blood and replacing it with Lyme disease!
There are other animals that I would fear if I were put in a position to be afraid, but there aren't any I can think of that I wouldn't approach at a safe distance, in a safe environment if given the opportunity. Hell, I love picking up horseshoe crabs for my son to admire when my family goes to the bay, but throw me in the water with one and I have a mini panic attack until I'm a safe distance away. So I guess it really does go back to the water and not the animals themselves, per say... throw me in the water, without a boat, and I'm helpless. It could be a freshwater lake and I will still be positive that I'm going to be eaten alive by some bottom dwelling monster. But stick me in a boat out at sea and I will HOPE Jaws swims by for me to catch a glimpse of!
I've already approached snakes without a second thought so I could grab a photo, and just last week I rescued a snapping turtle from certain death. But again, wouldn't want to be in the water with one!
I'd love to go on a safari and see lions and hippos (who kill way more people every year than sharks do!), take a boat through the Everglades and see alligators and crocodiles... But surprise! Wouldn't want to knock on their front door without a boat!
I remember swimming in a slate quarry with friends as a teenager and I absolutely panicked as soon as I jumped in (which took me a very long time to do). I couldnt see the bottom and certainly couldn't touch bottom without diving gear and oxygen. Chances of me being attacked by a sea creature there were... well, impossible. But I couldn't see. Peace out, cub scout! That was the last time I ever swam in a quarry.
I do continue to venture to the beach on occasion, but usually we just make a quick splash for a few minutes or so before spending the day at the bay, where I can see through the water more easily and worry much less about getting stung or pinched or eaten!
Well, I guess I didn't really stick to animals since I kept coming back to deep, dark and murky waters, but that's what I'm truly scared of, I suppose! So, what animals scare you and why? Or, if you're like me, what animal habitat scares you?
Wednesday, July 29, 2015
I Learned to Give Not Because I Have Much...
"I learned to give not because I have much, but because I know exactly how it feels to have nothing."
I saw this quote earlier today and haven't stopped thinking about it since. I have always felt the desire to give and I always feel badly when I can not, whether it be a birthday gift or a charity contribution. Maybe it's cliché and I'm sure some will find it hard to believe, but I truly enjoy giving more than receiving. When I am unable to give, I feel as if something has been taken away from me.
I know this isn't true for everyone, but it has been my experience that those who have less tend to give more often than those who have plenty. I have seen a man with empty pockets give the shirt off his back to another man simply because he liked the shirt. I have also seen a very wealthy woman tell a less fortunate, yet trustworthy, woman that she didn't have money to lend until the end of the month.
This isn't to say that every poor man is generous and every wealthy man is greedy, because that certainly isn't the case. But I have seen more people who have less give more easily than those who have plenty. Perhaps it is because those who have little know what it's like to struggle. Or maybe some are afraid to give too much because they too know what it's like to have little and have a fear of losing what they have earned.
Everyone reacts to situations differently. While some children of child abusers grow up to become role model parents, others follow the same path their parents were on and abuse their children, as well, while others still are afraid to have children at all for fear of failing.
In the end, I believe that everyone should help one another whenever they are able. Personally, I ask God on a daily basis to give me the opportunity to bless others. I want to help those in need in some way, not because I want something in return, but because I know what it's like to struggle. I know that even the smallest gesture can make someone's struggles a little easier and if I'm able to do that for one person, I believe that's a wonderful thing.
...and that leads me to a couple other ideas that will be brewing until next time!
I saw this quote earlier today and haven't stopped thinking about it since. I have always felt the desire to give and I always feel badly when I can not, whether it be a birthday gift or a charity contribution. Maybe it's cliché and I'm sure some will find it hard to believe, but I truly enjoy giving more than receiving. When I am unable to give, I feel as if something has been taken away from me.
I know this isn't true for everyone, but it has been my experience that those who have less tend to give more often than those who have plenty. I have seen a man with empty pockets give the shirt off his back to another man simply because he liked the shirt. I have also seen a very wealthy woman tell a less fortunate, yet trustworthy, woman that she didn't have money to lend until the end of the month.
This isn't to say that every poor man is generous and every wealthy man is greedy, because that certainly isn't the case. But I have seen more people who have less give more easily than those who have plenty. Perhaps it is because those who have little know what it's like to struggle. Or maybe some are afraid to give too much because they too know what it's like to have little and have a fear of losing what they have earned.
Everyone reacts to situations differently. While some children of child abusers grow up to become role model parents, others follow the same path their parents were on and abuse their children, as well, while others still are afraid to have children at all for fear of failing.
In the end, I believe that everyone should help one another whenever they are able. Personally, I ask God on a daily basis to give me the opportunity to bless others. I want to help those in need in some way, not because I want something in return, but because I know what it's like to struggle. I know that even the smallest gesture can make someone's struggles a little easier and if I'm able to do that for one person, I believe that's a wonderful thing.
...and that leads me to a couple other ideas that will be brewing until next time!
Tuesday, July 28, 2015
The Things Our Children Teach Us
Tonight I had the pleasure of watching my five year old son, Sebastian, surprise himself at a board breaking seminar. He broke his first board with a heel stomp on the first try after I was worried that he hadn't practiced enough (one time and he was ready!). This gave him the boost of confidence I was worried he wouldn't have.
My husband held the second board for Sebastian to break with the palm of his hand. This time, Sebastian pulled his arm back, but slowed and only tapped the board. We didn't have to say anything else. He pulled his arm back again and sent his palm straight through the center of the board.
The look on his face was priceless and I was so happy for him in that moment because I knew how excited he was. He looked at his palm, still in a position to strike, and then at his father with astonishment. His smile lit up the entire room and I was so proud of him. Not for breaking a board, but for having the confidence and the focus to do something that he had never done before.
My son is only five years old and I already admire him for his confidence, which I always lacked as a child (okay, I still do...). There were so many things I wanted to do, but I was always too nervous and afraid for fear that people might look at me and see me fail. I don't want that for my son or for any of my children.
For me to see my son have the confidence in himself to succeed in front of others (practically strangers he has only ever stood next to 10 or 11 times), without being afraid of those people seeing him fail... That is something I am so proud of.
I watch Sebastian at karate three or four nights a week as he stands in front of his peers and their parents, all of us facing a giant mirror. If I were a five year old walking into that room for the first time, I would tell my mom I couldn't do it and chances are I wouldn't even try. Hell, even gym class made me nervous--Every. Single. Class.
But here is my son, yelling "Yes, sir!" and following instructions with so much enthusiasm. He has even volunteered to help his instructor show the class their drills, twice so far! I was so proud of him when he raised his hand and walked up in front of everyone, I sent text messages to my friends and relatives because I couldn't contain my excitement.
But of course, I am nervous for him. When he got in line to break his third board, which would be held up by two concrete blocks, all I could think was, "What if he punches the block?" Yes, it was possible. But it wasn't likely! I just suffer from an annoying thing called anxiety and my thoughts run wild without my approval. Anyway, my goal is to not allow my children to know that I'm nervous for them because I don't want them to think that I don't have faith in them. I just don't want them to lose confidence in themselves if they don't succeed the first time they try.
My husband held the second board for Sebastian to break with the palm of his hand. This time, Sebastian pulled his arm back, but slowed and only tapped the board. We didn't have to say anything else. He pulled his arm back again and sent his palm straight through the center of the board.
The look on his face was priceless and I was so happy for him in that moment because I knew how excited he was. He looked at his palm, still in a position to strike, and then at his father with astonishment. His smile lit up the entire room and I was so proud of him. Not for breaking a board, but for having the confidence and the focus to do something that he had never done before.
My son is only five years old and I already admire him for his confidence, which I always lacked as a child (okay, I still do...). There were so many things I wanted to do, but I was always too nervous and afraid for fear that people might look at me and see me fail. I don't want that for my son or for any of my children.
For me to see my son have the confidence in himself to succeed in front of others (practically strangers he has only ever stood next to 10 or 11 times), without being afraid of those people seeing him fail... That is something I am so proud of.
I watch Sebastian at karate three or four nights a week as he stands in front of his peers and their parents, all of us facing a giant mirror. If I were a five year old walking into that room for the first time, I would tell my mom I couldn't do it and chances are I wouldn't even try. Hell, even gym class made me nervous--Every. Single. Class.
But here is my son, yelling "Yes, sir!" and following instructions with so much enthusiasm. He has even volunteered to help his instructor show the class their drills, twice so far! I was so proud of him when he raised his hand and walked up in front of everyone, I sent text messages to my friends and relatives because I couldn't contain my excitement.
But of course, I am nervous for him. When he got in line to break his third board, which would be held up by two concrete blocks, all I could think was, "What if he punches the block?" Yes, it was possible. But it wasn't likely! I just suffer from an annoying thing called anxiety and my thoughts run wild without my approval. Anyway, my goal is to not allow my children to know that I'm nervous for them because I don't want them to think that I don't have faith in them. I just don't want them to lose confidence in themselves if they don't succeed the first time they try.
Monday, July 27, 2015
Just. Keep. Writing.
I want to write, but I'm having a little bit of writer's block. I have ideas, but I start and then I get stuck after a paragraph or two. So I'm just going to write like I did in my creative writing course, as I believe I have done here in the past. I give myself a time limit (we'll go with five minutes this time) and I just keep writing without stopping. Even if I can't think of anything to write about. The goal is to just keep writing and not worrying about the content or the spelling or the grammar. Which is hard for me because I want to go back and fix every mistake as soon as I make it (like right now... I just hit the "$" key three times after "it" and had to delete it every single time before I could move on).
I find this method of writing great for a couple of reasons. First, it simply gets me writing. It may not be that interesting, but it gets me going, and I usually do end up in an interesting place. And that's the second reason.
It opens up my mind and causes me to end up in a place I hadn't necessarily thought about because I'm just not over thinking things. And, I never know where I'm going to stop, I just stop when the time has passed. And it has.
But to finish up, if you're having writers block or if you simply want to start journaling, I highly recommend this method. Set a timer, grab a pencil and a notebook (much better than typing in this case) and just write without stopping until the timer runs out. Don't lift your pencil and whatever you do, don't use your eraser. Just. Keep. Writing. It's good for you!
PS: sorry if there are mistakes!! I'm sure my mom will have no problem pointing them out...
I find this method of writing great for a couple of reasons. First, it simply gets me writing. It may not be that interesting, but it gets me going, and I usually do end up in an interesting place. And that's the second reason.
It opens up my mind and causes me to end up in a place I hadn't necessarily thought about because I'm just not over thinking things. And, I never know where I'm going to stop, I just stop when the time has passed. And it has.
But to finish up, if you're having writers block or if you simply want to start journaling, I highly recommend this method. Set a timer, grab a pencil and a notebook (much better than typing in this case) and just write without stopping until the timer runs out. Don't lift your pencil and whatever you do, don't use your eraser. Just. Keep. Writing. It's good for you!
PS: sorry if there are mistakes!! I'm sure my mom will have no problem pointing them out...
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
