SPT: Pick Me Up

Well.  This may be a "too much information" spt, but here goes.

When I need something quick:

Only chocolate will do.  Tiff sent me the "good stuff" by Lindt on Friday...thanks, chica!  I have hidden it in my little stash.

When I need something a bit deeper:

A bookstore does wonders for my soul.  And hey, most of the time it's cheaper than therapy.  Most of the time.

But my real cure-all is this: 

I will let you read between the lines.  Fixes just about everything.

(Aren't you relieved it's not an actual self-portrait?!  I know my husband is.)

SPT: Why Indeed

Fill in the blank: 
The other day I was in my family room, and I noticed this holiday decoration.  My only thought was, "Why do I still have this hanging around my house?!?"

I had to take down my holiday decorations a little early this year and felt absolutely forlorn when I looked around my "bare" house.  I left this snow scene up, thinking that it was still snowy somewhere, and so this could, quite justifiably, still be displayed.  I filled the little basket with "snow balls" and left it out.  Now the holidays are quite officially OVER and it's still up. 

Luckily, all of my visitors have been gracious enough not to mention it.  I hope the same will said of my short pixie bangs.

Odds and Ends

Odds:

Odds are that this political contest will be completely decided before I even get a chance to vote in the primaries.  I think it's odd that I can be so discouraged about the political process (and outcome) 9 months out from the election.  I love living in a democracy, but it's hard to love it this week...when it seems like most of the decision is made before I even get to raise my own little voice.

I think it's odd how much time I spend thinking about SPT each week.  (I saw one of Lelly's old SPT's where she challenged everyone to come up with their own words for the SPT acronym...mine would have to be "She Ponders Tediously.")  This week was no different.  I finally concluded that I had already wasted more than my 25th hour deciding what to SPT about and that I would actually have extra time in my day if I wasn't blogging at all.  This was a horrible thought and so I gave it up altogether this week.  Sorry Lelly.  It is odd that I make things harder than they need to be, but that seems to be my signature move.  Just ask my husband.

Today I reluctantly went and registered my baby up for "early learners" (a program our school district has for kids with Sept-Dec birthdays).  And it seems just that...EARLY.  Early to register, early to have him leaving my house, early to have the house to myself for a few hours every day.  He cried the whole way there.  It was not until I told him he would be able to wear a backpack that he consented to get out of the car.   I honestly wouldn't send him at all except that I think of all my kids, he is the least prepared for kindergarten and the most attached to home.  Later, when we were running errands, he quietly asked, "Who's going to stay with you?"  It took me a minute to figure out that he was referring to when he went to school.  Odd that I would go misty over that thought.

Odd that instead of fighting bacteria I am currently encouraging the growth of several bacterial colonies, all in the name of science.  Caleb has started his science fair project in earnest and we are feeding and incubating all kinds of disgusting life forms.  The other day Caleb asked me if he should not wash his hands at all throughout the day in order to get a better sample.  I thought it was very odd that I hesitated before answering.  But then I remembered Marie Curie.  There is only so much I think my 4th grader should risk for science. 

And Ends:

I can hardly believe that it's almost the end of January, and I've made very little (okay, zero) progress on my ambition to do a bit of writing this year.  This makes me think it is very likely that this year will end much the way the last one did, with regret.  The real trouble is that my work as a wife and mother, not to mention my church responsibilities, are never at an end and so...the real problem is that firefighting is not really conducive to writing.  

On Monday night we closed our Family Home Evening by singing "We Thank Thee, O God, For a Prophet."  It was hard to sing past the lump in my throat.  My heart was just thumping away feeling the testimony of those words, revelling in my darlings singing their little hearts out, and knowing that President Hinckley had left us.  The end of an era, as it were, and it was quite a reverent, thick moment in our house.

SPT: A Closer Look

The place in my home that gets the most attention is my kitchen.  (After I typed "my" I thought, "I ought to write 'our'," but I really do consider it to be my domain...and mine in every way.)  It is the place where I do all of my cooking, almost all of my homework-helping, much of my listening, a lot of my praying, lots of my crying, some of my laughing, most of my problem-solving, quite a bit of my thinking, much of my homemaking, and most of my nurturing.  It is the center of life for me in my home.  I believe in hearth and home, and in many ways this room is both for me.

When we bought this house I was overwhelmed and, frankly, disgusted by its appearance.  I cried a lot at first.  But the room that just broke my heart was the kitchen.  It seemed so long and narrow with dark cupboards and "busy" granite that didn't match.  There were flourescent lights overhead and weird wire plant shelves in the window.  I looked down that long dark hallway and thought, "I'm never going to be able to cook in here." 

After consulting with my remodelling company (me and my Uncle David), I decided to refinish the cupboards rather than replacing them.  I spent 6 weeks hard-labor on those cupboards.  I cleaned and stripped and sanded and primed and painted and sanded and painted and sealed and painted and sanded and painted and sealed and stained and rubbed and sealed again, until my arms ached.  They were worth every effort, and completely transformed my kitchen.  When I finished I told David that I didn't deserve to live in a house this nice.  I love them and jokingly told my husband that these cupboards better be in my mansion in heaven.   (His eyes replied that even the "mansion in heaven" may be getting my hopes too high.)

I am more happy than I can say working away in my kitchen.  It is where I find true expression in my homemaking and mothering, and I believe even though it is usually not a reverent place, most of the things that I do in it are sacred. 

SPT: New You Resolution

This new year has already had me up against the wall.

Already behind, already running.  No time for thinking or reflecting or even (it feels like) breathing.

The new year and all the new beginnings it brings feels like a pressure situation to me.  I have flaws.  Many.  Even the title of my blog speaks of my regrets.  So I need to get this right.

If I could change one thing about myself it would be my "resistance."  Resistance to the hearts and stories of those most precious to me, resistance to being vulnerable, resistance to asking for help, resistance to early mornings, resistance to forgiveness, resistance to joy even, resistance to being enough.

Over a year ago, I was shopping and saw this picture.  I stopped and stared at it.  For a long time.  It made me weep.  It was the way I wanted to live my whole life.  Completely and wholeheartedly.  Without reservation or resistance.

So my word is Embrace.  Instead of fighting so hard against absolutely everything in my life, I'm going to embrace it.

I will embrace entropy

so that I can

embrace my children more

and

embrace the joy of their growing and the moments I get with them

I will embrace my husband more completely

and wholeheartedly, and hold less back from him

I will embrace what scares me most

and at least try to write

I will embrace my life exactly as it is

with all its imperfections and heartaches

and embrace the truth that

my Heavenly Father only gives good gifts.

This will be hard for me.  Embrace.  To be honest I already feel the resistance rising inside me.  But the alternative is only regret.  And I am finally so deeply, profoundly tired of putting up this ridiculous resistance.

The only hope, or else despair,

Lies in the choice of pyre or pyre--...

We only live, only suspire

Consumed by either fire or fire.

--T.S. Elliot, Four Quartets

A Brief Follow-up

Here are just a few things I wanted to follow-up on.

1.  My SPT from from early December showed two empty card ribbons and a bit of anxiety over the lack of holiday mail.  I wanted to show this picture from the day I took the ribbons down...I had to add two extra ribbons before it was all over.  Joy and gladness.

2.  My nephew Luke is doing miraculously well, the last MRI showed no hydrocephalus or permanent damage from the myelomeningocele.  I couldn't resist posting this yummy picture taken before his ride home.  Completely edible.

3.  My girls have the best aunt on the planet.  After seeing the "cucumber post," my sister Emily did "real" facials with the girls on Friday night.  Needless to say, they were thrilled.  It looked so fun, their cousins and even Ethan, decided to get in on the pampering.

 

4.  Apparently I'm not the only one around here that is regretting the end of our hibernation.  Last night as we were tucking in Caleb said, "Mom, I mean I know education is important, but..."  This was his intro to a lament about going back to school.  This was an absolute shock coming from my 4.0 Caleb.  He lives for the 7:18 bus.  On the up side, I didn't shed a single tear when David left for work this morning.  Just turned my cheek for a kiss and tried hard to think about something else.  My kids return to school tomorrow, so Caleb started the campaign for tw0-player Canasta as soon as he saw me up this morning.  I am supposed to be starting a wedding cake for my brother (getting married this Saturday), but perhaps it will wait just one more day. 

SPT: All Snug In Their Beds

Well, I wish I was snug in my bed, but we're a week away, people!

So this is what I'm doing tonight...a few scrapbook pages for my parents-in-law. 

This is not a fun thing for me.  I'm not good at it.  Scrapbook stores cause mild anxiety attacks for me...all those cutesy little things in packages from floor to ceiling and I start having heart palpitations...and not the good kind.  But, under duress, I went to my local scrapbook store today and said, "Do you have any pre-made pages where I could just stick the photos on?"  The girl looked at me like I had used the Lord's name in vain.

This is how much I love my in-laws.  True love.  9:34 at night and I am putting glue dots on matching paper and adding color coordinated "brads."  Almost enough to push me over the edge.  The only saving grace:  the salesgirl said, "We have some velvet ric-rac that might look nice."  Well ric-rac I can definitely get excited about...and velvet!...lead the way.

The clock may say nine-thirty, but look at my eyes...they tell a completely different story.  Like I said, true love.

SPT: It's Ornamental, My Dear Lelly

We have an ornament tradition at our house too.  Every year we all get a new ornament to add to the tree.  The tree used to be mostly berries and bows with a few ornaments, but this year we didn't even have room for the bows.  The thing about eating an elephant applies to Christmas trees as well, apparently.  The only sad thing about this tradition is when the process reverses itself and my kids leave our little nest taking their stash of ornaments with them.  I can just picture us twenty years from now tying bows on our empty tree.  Gulp.  Oh, that already hurts.

Here is my SPT for tonight...it took quite a bit of coercion to make this happen.  I will let you imagine the groans.

Whhhyyyyy do we have to do this?

Um...some lady in North Carolina that I've never met would like to see them.

Huh?

Somehow the explanation died on my lips.  Blogging is a wonder that is sometimes quite unexplainable.

Here are our ornaments from this year.

Can you guess mine?

With a little more "persuasion," I was able to manage this:

SPT: Getting Carded

This is my first SPT.

A day late and a dollar short, as they say.

For me, Christmas cards are the best part of the holiday season.  I could happily eliminate most everything else...but I LOVE Christmas cards.  Sending and receiving.  And I love the USPS.  They are a wonder and a marvel, and all kinds of joy for only 41 cents.  Amazing.

So here is the basket I have kept our Christmas cards in every year since we've been married.  (My little hoard of love and Christmas cheer.)

But last year, I went to my sister-in-law's house and she had her cards displayed on ribbons...attached with clothespins...right out in the open, so everyone could enjoy them.  Feel the love, people!  

(Sadly, I am as tired as I look.  Can you even tell that I did put make-up on this morning?)

So I copied my s-i-l, Beckie, and hung two ribbons on the walls that lead into my kitchen...I had to take down the family picture that normally hangs here, which my husband will think is absolute blasphemy, but I decided to risk it.  Yep, I'm livin' on the edge.

Now all I need is the cards!  Only one so far...I usually curse the "early birds" with all their organizational skills and well-laid plans, but I'm starting to worry a bit here on December 6th.  Not that I am personally even close to sending my own out...my Christmas letter isn't even out of my head and into the computer yet, not to mention the yearly scrounge through my cupboards and files for the scraps of papers with the correct addresses scribbled on them.   Someday, I am absolutely going to get it together.