Tuesday, February 10, 2015
Sunday, February 08, 2015
It was on this Sunday last year that I had my little heart-to-heart with God and walked and waited and worried and hoped.
Then I took the Castor oil and settled into Downton Abbey (which I'm going to do in just a few moments) and some knitting and just laid it all in His hands.
It was really cold outside in Tennessee. It's really hot right now in Texas.
And the first contraction started.
And just a few hours later our baby girl was here.
Wednesday, January 21, 2015
I sit here late at night typing on a keyboard COVERED in dust, but I've been wanting to write blog posts lately. I've been thinking a lot about blogging and how it's kind of a thing from the past. I think the "family blog" has gone the way of transistor radios. But this blog and my 1500 (yes, you read that right) posts is one of my most treasured possessions. Sometimes I stay up way too late at night reading old posts. It reminds me of things I would not have remembered. Plus I think I'm really funny.
I miss the time when I strived to blog everyday. When you are just a regular person trying to come up with daily content it's sometimes pointless or dumb, like a quiz, or a picture that caught my eye. But when I look back, I like that it represents me at that time. And I'm glad I did it.
Maybe I should try to post everyday again.
If I were to post about today, it would be how a tiny part of the wood floors got installed which means we are on the upswing.
These last few days, weeks, months, even the year of 2014 have been SO HARD. Now, I try to remind my kids that hard doesn't equal bad, but hard for a long time is just, hard. I feel like I'm constantly treading water, trying to keep 2 babies heads above water and 3 other kids from floating off. I'm barely functioning. Of course it doesn't help that we've all been sick (RSV for the littles and now cough for me) and no one is sleeping. Why is sleep so hard? Hard as in bad.
Renovating is hard too. The dust is bad, the disorganization is terrible. The mess is atrocious. Nothing has a home; I can't find anything to save my life. The fridge is in the living room. The table and chairs are outside. I looked for oregano for 15 minutes thinking it was in the laundry room, or my closet when it was really in the spice cupboard (which is full of canned goods).
But we are on the upswing.
New pantry shelves will be installed. The floors will get finished. Tables and chairs will go in their respective rooms. I'll be able to cook real meals without first wiping dust off everything. I'll be able to find things like bandaids and onions.
I do still write in my journal. I used to mostly write what I did that day. Now I just write things I want to remember. Like Will's voice reading a book--he's such a good reader even if he'd rather build legos, and Elle's excitement about taking cooking lessons and being a Road Guard at school. Amelia's high-pitched squealing when she climbs ladders. Wyatt, so naughty, so adorable, so exhausting. The way he calls for me when he can't see me.
Monday, January 12, 2015
Saturday, December 13, 2014
Like most foreclosures, our house was stripped pretty bare of hardware and fixtures. So when I needed a towel rack for the boys' bathroom I thought I'd do something fun and super simple like this: