"Being Old and Full of Days"

I am on the cusp of a new week.  Sunday night, the night when I sit down and look at the week ahead and make a "plan."  I always feel a little overwhelmed when I think about all the things I need to/would like to accomplish in the coming days, and yet I don't really know why.  Most of what I do doesn't have set deadlines.  

I think feeling overwhelmed is just part of my nature, but it's something that I consciously try to change about myself every single day.  I have always dreamed of being someone who is relaxed, spontaneous, present, and carefree--someone who is not busy and who people know they can call on a whim if they want to hang out or if they need to talk.  I am making progress on this goal, as I constantly try to simplify my life, say no to commitments that will make me stressed, and manage my time better.  But it's a work in progress.  I'm a work in progress.

In high school, I noticed that one of my best friends was starting to distance herself from me, and when I asked her why, she said, "Oh you're just so busy.  I don't want to be one more thing you have to fit in."  A little hurt, I responded, "But I would always make time for you!!"  I will never forget her response.  She looked at me seriously and, without an ounce of malice, said, "Rachel, no one wants to feel like their best friend is 'making time' for them."

I have never forgotten her words, and they are so so SO true.  So I am working on this.  

I want more than anything to be present with my kids.  I don't want to waste their baby years checking things off my to-do list.  I never want them to look back and feel like I simply squeezed them in between cleaning and projects and to-dos.  I recently heard a sermon in which a busy, young, wise mother was quoted as saying, "Motherhood is not a hobby, it is a calling.  You do not collect children because you find them cuter than stamps.  It is not something to do if you can squeeze the time in.  It is what God gave you time for."

That last line has stayed with me, and I have thought of it often.  Motherhood is what God gave me time for.  

My days with the kids are simple and sometimes frustrating, but I have been praying lately that God will give me "eyes to see" the beauty in this current stage of my life--to see beyond the surface and to recognize the gifts underneath.  As I look around my house and see train tracks scattered across the floor and dirty baby bottles lining the kitchen counter, I try to see the blessings instead of the mess--the blessing of having a creative, active, thriving little boy underfoot and a snuggly, hungry, healthy baby girl in my arms.   

These days are precious.  They are also repetitive and mundane, but they are all pieces of the mosaic that will become my life--and they are pieces of the mosaic that will become my children's lives.

I have spent a lot of time lately thinking about who I am, who I have been, and who I want to be.  Sometimes I miss the "old Rachel" who adventured across the world and had endless energy to accomplish anything and everything (did I really start an international volunteer program while in the midst of my first year of teaching when I had 207 students??  WHO WAS THAT GIRL?!?!).  Sometimes I can't figure out how to reconcile the girl that I used to be with the girl that I am now--and yet I know in my heart that I am the same person with the same core beliefs, values, and characteristics.  How can I honor what has been and never forget it, while also honoring what is and what will be?

It was in that mindset that I recently discovered the last verse in the book of Job, and it has been a long time since a verse of scripture has spoken to me so directly.  As the final words to the story of an amazing life, the Bible simply says, "And Job died, being old and full of days."  

Understanding flooded over me as I read and reread those last few words: "Being old and full of days."  Each day of my life builds on the last.  I am full of days.  Each experience, each trial, each adventure, each joy, each sorrow, each friendship, each bedtime story read to Noah, each lullaby sung to Sally, each conversation snuggled up with Ryan--they become part of my foundation, they are still part of who I am.  

This image makes me happy--the idea of being full of days.  It gives me peace.  It helps me to cherish these routine moments at home with my kids, these days that are adding to the breadth of who I am becoming.  

A wild-haired Noah eating yogurt and watching a show.

A wiggly Sally, climbing all over her Daddy (who is always and forever reading a book).  

A messy house, full of the evidence of Noah's current favorites: trains and forts.  

Date nights with Ryan, holding hands and walking the trail at the bottom of the canyon as we discuss our children, his career, our hopes and dreams, our future.

These are the moments that I want to be full of when I reach the end of my lifetime.  This is who I want to be.  

Tonight as I head to bed, readying myself for the new week ahead, I am feeling comforted in the knowledge that nothing is ever lost.  Days build upon days, and moments build upon moments--the good and the bad, the ups and the downs--they all count, they all make me who I am.  

And when I die, I, like Job, will be old--and full to the brim with a lifetime of remembered and forgotten, meaningful and mundane, simple yet profound, days.  

Christmas Spirit

A few years ago, I started compiling a list of ways to manage the stress of the holidays and the pressure to be "in the Christmas spirit" all December long.  It can sometimes put me in a really depressed mood that I am "not doing enough" to engage in this month-long holiday because it really is such a special time of year, and I want to savor it and make the most of it--but too much pressure to do so can leave me feeling the opposite of the Christmas spirit (frustration, discouragement, inadequacy).  I totally relate to little Cindy Lou Who in How The Grinch Stole Christmas when she sings "Where Are You Christmas?" because sometimes I feel like something is wrong with me when I'm not feeling ultra giddy and magical during the month of December or filling my days with awesome, festive traditions.

I had forgotten my list of ideas for making December less stressful until today, when my Instagram feed starting filling up with photos of moms doing cool things to kick off the month with their kids.  Looking at those cute photos, I started to feel a little panicked that the holidays are already sneaking up on me, and we don't have a Christmas tree yet, and I don't have any fun traditions planned, and Noah is at the perfect age for diving in to the fun of this holiday and I want to make every moment "count," and there are so many people to get gifts for, and...

Do you see where I am going with this?

I stopped myself and remembered my list and went to look at it.  I decided to post it here as a permanent reminder for myself, as well as to solicit advice from all of you.  Please leave your ideas/input in the comments.

I want to start with a disclaimer that this list won't be true for everyone.  This is my "notes to self" about how to make the holidays fun and less stressful for me.  I think it's awesome if you want to do an amazing family activity every day in December.  Please post your ideas on Instagram and elsewhere so I don't have to think up ideas for our family activities and can just copy yours! :)

Okay, so here we go...

Rachel's Notes to Self about Celebrating Christmas

1.  Don't feel like you need to start celebrating the day after Thanksgiving or even December 1st.  You can't maintain "The Christmas Spirit" that long.  It's too much pressure.  It's fine if you wait until 12 days before or one week before to do anything "big" to commemorate the holiday.

2.  That said, in the month leading up to Christmas, do little things to get into the mood.  Talk about Christ as much as possible.  When you are driving around town, point out the Christmas lights to Noah and tell him how cool it is that the whole world is celebrating Jesus during this special month.  Rely on easy traditions that require no work, such as watching a favorite holiday movie each Saturday night as a family or lighting the advent wreath and singing a hymn each Sunday.

3.  On a similar note, do quick things to bring the holiday spirit into your home.  I'm not talking about ultra fancy decorations (which are awesome if you can get to them but not necessary).  Make it a habit to do things like playing Christmas carols and lighting a candle every day during breakfast.  Put up simple decorations--some of which should be focused on Christ and the true meaning of the season.

4.  Shop far in advance (or as far in advance as possible) to avoid last-minute gift-giving stress.  Do not try to make gifts.  You do not enjoy crafts.  You will put off doing them, and it will inevitably take longer than you planned, and you will be hating your life as your decoupage a frame for your in-laws late into the night on Christmas Eve.  (True story.)

5.  Find time to ponder and write about the things that matter most to you.  Set aside fifteen minutes now and then to sit by the lighted Christmas tree after the kids are in bed with a candle burning.  Spend that time writing about Christ, family, your children, your marriage, your blessings or writing thank you notes to those you love. (As a side note, when my older sister read this, she said that writing deep thoughts by the Christmas tree sounded way more pressure-filled to her than spending an afternoon baking sugar cookies!  Bahaha!  I know I am kind of a weirdo.  Do whatever works for you and brings joy and perspective!)

6.  Plan some fun family activities that take a bit more effort--just a few of these are enough.  Perhaps a night decorating gingerbread houses with family, hosting a Progressive Dinner with friends, or lighting luminaries on Christmas Eve.

7.  Actively serve others.  This brings the Spirit of Christmas more than anything else.  Service should obviously be part of your everyday life (whatever month it is) but putting a little more focus on it during December can't hurt! Service doesn't have to be grand--a great idea is this simple "24 Days of Giving."  If you miss a day of service, don't beat up on yourself.

8.  When visiting family for the holidays, focus on being present with those around you.  Focus on serving in small but meaningful ways--jumping up to do the dishes after dinner or engaging in conversation with a quiet relative.  Look around you and notice where there are opportunities to bring joy and relieve stress.

9. Make time for the things that help you maintain sanity in the midst of holiday craziness, including exercise (even just a brisk walk with the family after dinner), conversations with Ryan (even if that means leaving a raucous game night for a few minutes to lie on the bed and talk), and occasional early bed times (nothing leads to meltdowns more quickly than sleep-deprivation).

10.  As much as possible, just be still and let the beauty of this season work its magic.  It's not reliant on you and your fancy traditions.  Stand at the window and watch when snow is falling, or go outside and raise your face to the sky and taste the snowflakes.  Watch the excitement on Noah's face as he points out Christmas decorations in the mall.  Talk to him about Christmas and everything it means.  Snuggle Baby Sally into your chest when you are feeding her in the middle of the night and think about that sacred baby born thousands of years ago in Bethlehem, "born that man no more may die."  Thank Him.  Think of Him.  Let your heart fill with love for Him.

December is a month to love.  I am so excited that it's here.  It's going to be a beautiful, Spirit-filled month with my precious kiddos, my amazing husband, and my wonderful family and friends.  As a wise friend once told me, "Rachel, you are too blessed to be stressed!"  (Thank you, Deborah Tilley!) That is my final note to self as we enter this month of gratitude and giving.  I can't wait!

Why I Haven't Been Blogging

I have been a little quiet on the blog front lately.  This is mostly due to the fact that I get consumed by whatever project I am working on, and in the past six weeks, I've been working on getting our new home unpacked, organized, and decorated.  I wish I were a more temperate person who methodically worked on projects bit by bit, a little each day or week, until they are done--but that's just not my nature.  I get obsessed and can't relax until the job is FINISHED and off my list.  I always tell myself that as soon as this project is done, I will start being a more balanced and temperate person...but the problem is, as soon as one project ends, another begins, so I find myself constantly in a state of obsession over some project or another.  Is anyone else like this?  Does anyone have any advice for me on how to temper this tendency?

You wouldn't think that getting our little home organized and decorated would take six weeks, but we have never lived in a house before, so we had some furniture to buy and work spaces to figure out...and everything takes so stinkin' long.  You get a couch, and then you need to find an area rug...you get an area rug, and then you need to find throw pillows to tie it all together.  You get some frames for a gallery wall, and then you need to get some photos printed...you get the photos printed, and then you need to hang the frames.  (Why does hanging pictures take so long??)  All of the decorating and organizing feels rather superficial at times, but it needs to be done.  I am decorationally challenged, so this has not been an easy task for me, but we are almost done with it all (just a few more pictures to get up on the walls!), and it feels good.  I cannot tell you how much we LOVE living in a house, and the home we are renting is perfect for us.  At least five times a day, I think about how grateful I am that we found this place and that we are lucky enough to have a home.  Perhaps I will post a few photos of our little home soon...if I can convince myself to take the time to upload photos.

Which leads to my next rant/question.  Another reason why I've been quiet on the blog front lately is that blogging takes a lot of time.  First you have to write the posts, and then you have to upload all of the photos from your camera or phone, edit them, add them to the post...what seems like it should take twenty minutes ends up taking an hour (or longer).  And if you want to turn your blog into a book for your family and future posterity to enjoy, that takes even more time.  I have been working on my second blog book, and I am amazed by how much time it takes.  I did the book for 2011 last year, I am working on the book for 2008 and 2009 this year--but I still have 2010, 2012, and 2013 to go!  Has anyone else run into this problem?  I've noticed that a lot of my friends have stopped blogging in recent months and years, and I wonder if this is why.  It's just a lot to keep up with!  Do people even read blogs anymore with all of the other options of social media that are, in a lot of ways, much quicker and easier?  (Speaking of, if you have Instagram and want to see far too many photos of Noah, let me know--I update there every couple of days because it's quick and easy.)  Sometimes I wonder if I should stop blogging all together, but I think I would miss the writing aspect of it, and I know our families like to know the details of what's going on with Noah...so I'm not sure what to do.  Friends, do you have any advice on this?

And speaking of Noah, there's another reason why I haven't been blogging this summer: Being a mom is really busy!  I am constantly surprised by the energy it takes to care for a toddler and run a household...to say nothing of the additional responsibilities of editing for Power of Moms and volunteering at our church and in our community.  I just got asked to help with the teenage girls at our church, and I really love it (I have the opportunity to teach again!), but I can already tell it's going to be busy with weekly lessons and activities.  I feel like I am always tired these days, which makes me feel like a sissy because I only have one kid for crying out loud, and I am a stay-at-home-mom, and I actually get more sleep now than I ever did while I was teaching.  So why am I so tired??  Can someone explain this to me?  How do women with lots of children function??  As I've mentioned on this blog a few times, Ryan and I are hoping to add another baby to our family in the near future, and I've started fertility treatments again, and I constantly wonder how I will keep up when there is another little one (and hopefully several more eventually!) running around the house.  There is nothing I want more, and yet it's a bit mind-boggling to consider it happening.

And finally, full admission, another reason why this blog has been pretty quiet lately is that Ryan and I have gotten a tad addicted to an old BBC show called "Larkrise to Candleford."  We don't have TV, so throughout our marriage, we've never had any "shows" that we  consistently watch together like a lot of couples do. But a friend recommended "Larkrise" to us because we like Downton Abbey, and we've been watching an episode several nights a week on the internet, and it is really fun.  I think it is more the relaxation and togetherness that we crave than the show itself.  There is something so nice about crashing at the end of the day and snuggling up together to watch something completely mindless.  In the past, my idea of togetherness was to clean the kitchen or work on one of my projects.  (Fun, right??)  I have a hard time sitting down to do something like watch TV, but now I totally understand why people love it.  I've realized that it is probably really healthy and good for couples to have a favorite show that they share. (Ryan is in full support of this realization, as he would much prefer to snuggle and watch something fun than clean the house! That poor man puts up with a lot from his worker wife!)

So that was the very long explanation of some of the reasons why I have not been blogging this summer!  I hope to catch up a bit over the next week or so.  Who knows if I will keep up this blog long-term, but I will at least finish 2013 (so I can have a complete blog book, right?  Ahhh!).

Thanks for reading my rant.  I know all of this is totally "first-world problems," and I feel a little sheepish even asking for advice--but all of you wise women out there, I would REALLY appreciate if you could leave a comment and give me some input on balancing projects, running a household, volunteering, blogging, motherhood, and life.  xoxo

Grateful

I am feeling very, very grateful today.

My dad once told me that when he ponders his life and his many blessings, all he can think is "You've gotta be kidding me!"  He said he knows it isn't fair that one man should be so richly blessed.  That's exactly how I'm feeling today.  I've been cleaning the apartment, trying to get life back in order after vacation and holiday mayhem, and instead of feeling grumpy about it (like I usually would), I am feeling overwhelmingly blessed.

I am grateful to have the opportunity to stay home with my son.  I am grateful to witness little moments, like when he knocked over the laundry basket today, and as it hit the ground he said, "Bonk!" Then he leaned over, put his hand on the basket reassuringly, and said, "Ooo ok? (You okay?)" in his little voice.  I love that he comforts inanimate objects the same way that I comfort him.

I am grateful for services like AAA that come right to my home and fix my battery when my car won't start.

I am grateful to be able to wash and fold my husband's clothes neatly and take care of him in this small way.  (I usually hate laundry, but today, for some reason, I was able to see it as a labor of love.)

I am grateful that I can take a warm shower when I have a cold (makes me feel better every time).

I am grateful for my in-laws.  Seriously, I won the lottery when I married into the Nielson family.  We had such a great time with them last week.  I love every single one of them more than I can express in words.

I am grateful that I have gone to see a counselor these past few months who has helped me realize that I don't need to be perfect and I shouldn't be so hard on myself.  (That was kind of scary to admit to the worldwide web.)  More to come on this topic at some point...just trying to figure out how to put it all into words.

Life is so good.  I feel like I close many of my blog posts with that phrase, but it's just so true.  Life is good, and I am so grateful.

Blog Booking

I recently made a book of all of my blog posts from 2011.  I say "recently," but what I really mean is for eleven stinkin' months.  Who knew that making a blog book would take so much time?  I started it in January, and granted, I didn't work on it diligently every single month, but I think I spent close to 100 hours putting that (d-word) book together.  I must qualify that by saying that 2011 was a huge year for us, so there were tons of posts and tons of photos (the finished blog book is 210 pages), and I must also acknowledge that I am the world's biggest perfectionist, so I'm sure that some of those hours were poorly spent with me rearranging and trying to make everything just perfect...but still, what a project.  

Before I started this colossal undertaking, I researched websites to use, and I found Blog2Print (which just slurps your blog into a PDF file and binds it, and you don't have to do any formatting at all)--but when I tried that, it made the spacing in my book all wonky, and there was no way to go in and edit it.  The photos were also super small, and it was just one long, continuous document, so sometimes the title of a post would be at the bottom of the page before...it didn't look professional, and I knew it would drive me nuts.  If this was going to be our family journal and photo album, and if I was going to pour time and money into it, I wanted it to look really nice.  So I decided to use Blurb.com.  It slurps your blog into a file, so all of the words and all of the photos are there, but then you have to go through post by post and choose or create layouts that fit.  It sounds easy enough, but let me tell you, it takes some serious time (especially when you are still figuring out the program).

 I love the way my book turned out, but the thought of doing it again--for the years 2008 and 2009 and 2010 AND 2012--makes me shudder.  There has to be a better way.  I mean, can I honestly keep blogging if it is then going to take 100 hours to transfer a year of posts into a book?

I do think the next book will go faster, now that I know the computer program better and know that I can't be such a perfectionist, and I do recognize that the years 2008, 2009, and 2010 will probably add up to the same length as the year 2011...but I am still feeling overwhelmed by the prospect of starting again.

Any suggestions?  Has anyone else run into this problem?  Have you figured out a way to make it more manageable?  Do you have tips for better ways that I can write my posts in order to make the transfer to a book easier?  I would really appreciate some advice!

Always Lost and Somehow Always Found

I have written before (okay, more than once) about my ineptitude with cell phones.  (Maybe I should make this its own post category?)  Well I realized earlier today that I hadn't seen my cell phone in 24 hours.  This is not unusual--I lose my cell phone at least once a week--so I did what I always do: I got online and starting contacting friends and family via Facebook and Skype.  Can you call my phone?  I don't know where it is.  

That's when I realized that I hadn't charged my phone in several days and it was likely dead somewhere.  A phone call wasn't going to do it.  

Hmmm.

Tactic #2: Dig around in the cushions of the recliner in Noah's bedroom.  This large chair has been known to eat things, including, but not limited to, nail clippers, iPods, and my glasses.

No luck finding the phone, but I did find two (almost) empty bottles that smelled just lovely.

As I continued to search the apartment for my rogue cell phone, I decided that I need some sort of necklace or lanyard in order to wear my cell phone around my neck at all times--so I can never lose it or drop it.  This made me think about the retainer case necklace that my best friend, Liz, made for me in high school.  She was so tired of me losing my retainer (which sometimes led to us digging through cafeteria trash cans and worse) that she drilled two holes in my yellow retainer case and strung it with some twine, creating a very fashionable necklace indeed.

The sad thing is, I wore that hideous necklace.  I really did.  I can't believe I had any friends.

Anyway, I found the cell phone (it was in the car), and when I had recharged it, I saw that I'd missed seven calls and hadn't replied to five important text messages.  (I can't believe I have any friends now.)

Sadly, I couldn't read a few of the texts because my cell phone screen looks like this:

Can you guess why?

I promise I actually am an organized and capable person--but for some reason, I have a real problem with cell phones!

What do you say, Lizzy...want to make me another cool necklace? :)

I Went on a Road Trip By Myself

Last month, I went on a road trip by myself.  I had never done that before, and I must admit, it was quite relaxing.  As I drove into the Colorado mountains, I couldn't help but marvel at the blue skies and the snowcapped peaks.  I rolled down the windows and let the wind rush over me, and I felt grateful, happy, and blessed.  There's just something about being alone in a beautiful place...God feels nearer somehow.

I drove to Moab, Utah where I met my college roommates so we could run in a race together.  They are some of my best friends in the world, and I'm so grateful that we've all stayed in touch despite the fact that we live in different states and are in different stages of life.  We stay close through a private blog that only the five of us have access to, and we manage to have a girls' reunion at least once a year.

The trip to Moab was the first time I'd left Noah overnight, and it was harder than I expected it would be.  I knew he was in good hands (he was with my sister during the day and Ryan at night), but I missed him immediately, as soon as I drove away from my sister's house.  I called her every few hours to check in and see how my little man was doing.  Sometimes being a stay-at-home mom can feel tiring, isolating, and frustrating, but this brief time away reminded me how incredibly grateful I am that I get to spend every day with Noah.  I had a wonderful weekend with my friends--it was so so good to see them--and when I got home, I was ready to be a stay-at-home mom again.  It helped that Noah could not contain his glee when I walked in the door.  He was grinning and reaching for me and panting in excitement.   When I picked him up, I hugged him close and put his cheek against mine--and then I almost started crying.  I was just so happy to see him.

The trip made me think about so many things.  On the car ride to Moab, I listened to an essayistic memoir called A Million Miles in a Thousand Years, and on the way home, I listened to an epic novel called A Thousand Splendid Suns.  Both books made me deeply ponder the world and my place in it.

I don't know quite how to explain A Million Miles in a Thousand Years.  It was unlike any book I've ever read in form and even in content.  The author, Donald Miller, realizes that, though he's made a career out of writing stories, the life that he's "written" for himself is boring and uncompelling.  He is not living a good story.  Each chapter introduces a principle of writing meaningful stories and then applies that same principle to living meaningful lives.  The book is funny at times, sad at times, and overall very very thought-provoking.  It made me want to live deliberately, to set goals and go after them, to consciously choose a meaningful story.

I felt like it came at a good time.  I have entered a new chapter in my life, that of motherhood, and I can decide if that story is going to be boring or beautiful.  Ryan and I will also have to make decisions about his career in the near future, and I want to choose a story that is going to fill our lives with meaning, not just money.  There is soooo much more to life than money.

On the way home, I listened to A Thousand Splendid Suns, a novel which captures the struggles of women in Afghanistan by telling the life stories of two Afghani women.  I fell in love with the main characters, and I have thought of them often in the month since I finished the book.  Their stories made me so grateful for my life--for my husband, for my freedoms, and for my opportunities.  This book was profoundly sad, but it touched my soul.  Not an easy read but definitely an important one.  It no longer seems like such a big deal when I have to make several trips up and down the apartment stairs to carry in the baby and the groceries, or when I am doing a sink full of dishes for the third time that day, or when my husband isn't home until 11 p.m. because he is on-call at the hospital.  I love books and movies that remind me to count my blessings, and this was definitely one of those.  I wish it was easier to hold on to my resolutions to be more grateful (I hate to admit that I have complained a time or two about the dishes since reading this book), but I figure the more often I have an experience that reminds me how blessed I am, the more likely I am to permanently internalize that fact.  This is one of the many reasons why I love reading.

So from start to finish, my solitary road trip was a good one.  I definitely think it should become an annual tradition for me.  It gave me time to think and reflect, and I came home with renewed perspective and resolve to treasure each day of the life that God has given me.  

Melancholy Moments; Meaningful Moments

I am naturally a melancholy person.  That may be surprising to some people, even those who know me fairly well, because I generally try to hide my melancholia.  Don't get me wrong, I am happy...I do my share of dancing in the kitchen and singing at the top of my lungs; but the truth is, I am prone to feeling a lot of guilt, stress, and discouragement on a daily basis because I can't do everything that I feel like I "should" be doing or want to be doing.  I am a perfectionist, I am a worrier, and I am hard on myself.  To make matters worse, I am very aware of how incredibly blessed I am--I know that I have no reason to ever feel unhappy--which makes me beat up on myself all the more.

Unfortunately, when my husband is stressed out from work, he develops quite a bit of this temperament as well.  He's naturally an easy going person, but he craves peace, and when he works from dawn until midnight and doesn't get a moment throughout the day to relax (which seems to be the constant reality these days), he is not a very happy camper.  He becomes self-critical, discouraged, and overwhelmed.

So we've been a couple of Debbie Downers around here lately.  Not proud to admit it, but I am against blog facades in all forms, so I thought I would go ahead and acknowledge the truth.

Back in January, we chose a verse from The Book of Mormon as our family "theme" for the year: "And it came to pass that we lived after the manner of happiness" (2 Nephi 5:27).  We decided that we wanted to spend the year focusing on being happier in our daily lives.  We thought we would devote each of our weekly Family Home Evenings to discussing a different aspect of happiness, and we also set daily goals that I call the "habits for happiness": personal and family prayer and scripture study, exercise, healthy eating, adequate sleep...you know, the basics.  Sounds simple enough, right?

Wrong!!  Why is it so hard to accomplish all of these "little" goals in addition to everything else we have going on in life??  And we've only had FHE about three times since declaring our theme in January!  We are awesome!!

In all seriousness, I have a lot of thoughts about goal setting and happiness and perfectionism, but I am going to save those for another post, and I am going to end my day by focusing on something that does make me insanely happy: my adorable son.

Noah wakes up early.  I think it's Ryan's alarm that wakes him up (our apartment is very small), so Ryan will give him a bottle, change his diaper, and let him play in the bathroom while he gets ready.  This morning, I woke up to the sound of Noah's jabber moving closer and closer to me.  Confused, I opened my eyes to see where it was coming from, and I saw a shadow crawling down the hallway outside our room.  I couldn't stop grinning as I watched that little shadow getting bigger and bigger.  I knew that at any moment, Noah's cute little face would peek around the door frame.  What a way to start the day!

He is really moving now.  Sometimes when I turn my back for two minutes, I am shocked to turn back around and find him in a totally different room.  He is a little speed demon, and he loves his new mobility.  I am finding that all of his pants and pjs have dark brown spots on the knees...oops, I guess I better start vacuuming!

He has two tiny teeth poking through his bottom gums now, and when he grins, you can see them.  It is the cutest smile in the world.

Watching Noah grow is such a joy, and I know it will go by way too fast.  I often get frustrated with myself because I feel like I never change.  I have the same weaknesses that I had a year ago, which is sooooo discouraging.  But I try to remember that I can't spend my days focused on my same old imperfections because right in front of me is a little being who is changing--so much, all the time!  I have the rest of my life to worry about my to-do lists and my goals.  Witnessing my son learning to crawl and sit and pull himself up on things--these moments and milestones are so fleeting.

So I end tonight's post with some recent videos of Noah that make me happy.  The first is a video of him splashing like crazy in the bathtub (his favorite thing); the second is a video of him doing his "happy wiggle" while eating breakfast (Ryan filmed this moment sideways); and the last is a video of him giggling in delight when he first learned to crawl (this might be my favorite video of them all).

These are the moments to focus on when I am feeling melancholy.  I am one lucky mama.

What kind of a housewife am I??

Remember when Noah was first born, and I had delusions of becoming a great housewife?

Well, this week, I ruined three loads of laundry.  THREE.  First, I forgot that a load was in the washer and left it there for several days.  All of those clothes now have a funky mildew smell.  (Any advice?)  Then, I washed a load without realizing that my purple uniball pen was in the pocket of my sweatpants.  The whites (including Ryan's nice dress shirt and all of our underwear) now have a nice violet hue.  And finally, and this one is the kicker, I did a load of Noah's clothes using fabric softener instead of laundry detergent.  The fabric softener was in a big jug like detergent, and I just poured it right onto the clothes, not thinking.  The undiluted blue liquid left splatter stains all over everything.

I swear I have been doing my own laundry for about ten years now without incident.  How could I ruin three loads of laundry in one week??  I am a total idiot!

On top of all of my laundry mishaps, I am a complete failure in the kitchen.  I can't remember the last time I cooked a real meal.  My aspirations to make dinner more often now that I am a stay-at-home mom seem to have evaporated in the past few months.  Not sure why--I just have no motivation to choose recipes (this step overwhelms me for some reason), then get to the grocery store (so much harder with a baby), and then slave away in our tiny and perpetually messy kitchen (yes, keeping the kitchen clean should be my responsibility too!).

And I ruined a pan of brownies today.  Like, a boxed brownie mix.  After living in Buffalo for four years, I am out of the habit of using the "high altitude" directions on the box, and our brownies came out hard as a rock.

I know, I'm awesome.  Go ahead and call me Martha Stewart.

Sheesh.

I Used to Be a Blogger

It is after midnight, and here I am blogging.  Ryan and I just finished the last episode of season two of Downton Abbey (you can find them online), and that show leaves me feeling both happy and angsty at the same time.  I am a sucker for "period" dramas.  Anyway, Ryan went to bed like a sensible chap (imagine the British accent), but I have the sudden urge to blog--which doesn't happen too much anymore so I am taking advantage of my burst of motivation.

I used to really enjoy blogging.  I used to do it on a fairly regular basis.  But I've recently realized that I no longer have thoughts.  Is that normal?  All I think about all day is laundry and baby sleep schedules, neither of which seems like an exciting topic for a blog post.  When I do actually have deep thoughts, I am too tired to make sense of them and write them down.

And now I can't think of anything more to say.

When I started this post, I thought that I was in the mood to write...but now I am feeling exceptionally tired, so I think I will go to bed.

Maybe I'll try again tomorrow!

Kids Make Me Laugh

A few months ago, I bought some wrapping paper from a neighborhood girl for her school fundraiser.  After I wrote the check, I completely forgot about it.  But just now, there was a knock on the door, and I opened it to this same little girl who had come to deliver my gift wrap.  She was wearing the most ginormous neon orange sunglasses I have ever seen.  Seriously, these things were as big as her face.  I couldn't help but grin, considering it is dusk right now (not at all sunny), and it is 20 degrees outside.

"Did you make lots of money for your fundraiser?" I asked.

"Yup!"  She nodded enthusiastically, and her sunglasses bounced up and down on her nose.

"Did you get lots of cool prizes?"

"Uh huh.  These sunglasses are one of them!" she said proudly.

"Really?  I wouldn't have guessed that!" I said very seriously.

As she walked away, I thought about calling her back to take her picture, but I thought that might be a little creepy.

I love little kids.  They are too funny.

Dilemma

I am extremely hard on cell phones.  I have a history of dropping phones on the hardwood floor, on the pavement outside the car (this happens almost daily when I forget that my phone is on my lap while getting out of the car), and in mixing bowls full of water.

When I am not dropping my phone, I am losing my phone.  I swear, half of the time, I don't know where my phone is.

For obvious reasons, I always get the cheapest model of cell phone, and I've been pleasantly surprised by how sturdy these little cheapos can be.  For the most part, they survive my accidents.  The phone that I dropped in the mixing bowl full of water started working again after I'd already ordered its replacement, so it became Ryan's phone.  He recently accidentally dropped it in a toilet, and it still works.

So imagine my surprise when today, without any warning or provocation (I didn't drop it or anything!), my cell phone stopped working.  None of the buttons work.  I tried texting, I tried pushing numbers...nothing.  So I decided to try the fail-proof solution that I always employ when my electronics stop working: turn it off and then on again.

Unfortunately, after I turned it off, it wouldn't turn back on.  I think it is really dead this time.

So here's my dilemma: With all of the promotions that they have going on right now, upgrading to a "smart phone" is about the same price as getting another cheapo.  I have wanted a smart phone in the past, but I've always decided against it because 1) I will inevitably break or lose it, and 2) I don't want to pay for the data plan, and 3) I don't want to become even more obsessed with checking my email/Facebook constantly.

What should I do?  Advice is appreciated.

Sun Shiny Day at the Grocery Store

I had the most pleasant experience at the grocery store today.

Everywhere I went, people smiled at me.  It was delightful.  It took me about .5 seconds to figure out the reason they were smiling: Noah was strapped in his Baby Bjorn, facing out like a little kangaroo joey, his head bobbing to and fro with each step I took.

Of course they were smiling!

At one point, I walked up to a thug-looking teenage worker who was stocking shelves. 

"Excuse me," I said.  "Can you tell me where the dry onion soup mix is?"

He looked up from his shelf, and his eyes settled on Noah for a second, and when he looked back at me to answer, I could tell he was fighting a grin.  This made me fight a grin too, and when it was apparent that we were both trying not to smile, the kid burst out laughing and squealed, "Ohhhh he's so cute!"

It made my day.

What A Day

This is my nephew Callum:

Darling, huh?  Well his personality is darling too.  He is friendly, affectionate, and smart.  He hugs anyone, says that "Aunt Rachel" is his best friend, and rarely throws temper tantrums.  Whenever he sees Noah, he says in an exuberant voice, "Hi, Baby Noah!" and insists on giving him a sloppy kiss.

Though he couldn't possibly be any sweeter, Callum can still be a handful because he has more energy than even your average 2.5-year-old.

I think I temporarily forgot that when I offered to run errands with him and Noah this morning.  Cranky 7-week-old  +  Active 2.5-year-old + Multiple errands = Exhausting disaster.

My sister designs jewelry, and she has a big sale coming up this next weekend, so she asked if I could watch Callum this morning while she got some orders made.  I agreed, but when I showed up at her house to pick him up, she said, "While you're gone, I'm going to run to the post office to mail a few of my orders and then to the muffin place  because my groupon expires today."

"Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose of me watching Callum so you can work on jewelry?" I asked.  "We can run the errands while we're out."

She looked skeptical.  "Are you sure?"

"Absolutely," I insisted.

And so off we drove on our blissful little adventure.  We rolled down the windows and looked at the trucks passing by.  We sang "If You're Happy and You Know It."  The skies were blue and a slight breeze was blowing...and then a cop pulled up behind me with his lights on.

Confused, I looked down at my spedometer.  "I'm only going 43," I thought.  "He must want me to pull over so he can pass by and continue on to an accident or something."

No such luck.  As he was walking up to our car, Noah started screaming and Callum started yelling, "Hi, Policeman!  Hi, Policeman!"  I thought this might work in my favor, but the cop didn't even seem to notice.

"I thought the speed limit was 40," I said when he told me I'd been speeding.

"Yes, but this a school zone.  So right now the speed limit is 30, and you were going 13 over."

I almost said the d-word, but I remembered that I had virgin ears in the backseat, so I refrained.

As we pulled away, a nice $100 ticket in hand, Noah seemed as upset about the ticket as I was--he started crying and didn't stop for the next hour.  As much as I appreciated his empathy, I kind of wished he would put a sock in it.

Remember last summer when I got a speeding ticket on my way to church?  And a year later, I'm getting a ticket as I try to do a favor for my sister??  It just isn't right.

So we continued on to the post office, and the line was massively long, so I decided to do the self-service station.  Noah was screaming, and Callum was running around pulling envelopes off of the shelves.  I told him to stop, so he started doing something else exciting--banging on the side of the counter.  It was super loud, and everyone was staring, so I said, "Callum, please don't make a scene."

"But I need to make a scene, Aunt Rachel!  I need to!" he insisted.

I shouldn't have laughed, but I couldn't help it.  This kid is too much.  I got him to come over and help me push the buttons on the self-service screen, but as soon as I put him down, he ran back to the counter and started banging, saying over and over, "I need to make a scene!  I need to make a scene."

Well, you succeeded, Callum.  We definitely made a scene!

So then it was on to the muffin shop.  Callum helped me pick out the flavors of the muffins, and he said he wanted the chocolate one.  I guess the lady behind the counter thought he meant immediately because she handed it to him while I was paying and didn't notice.  (She obviously does not have children.)  When I turned around, he was literally covered in chocolate, as was the floor all around him.

Noah was still crying.

I was planning to take them to the park afterward, but when the box of muffins spilled while I was buckling them into their carseats, I decided it was time to go home.

I have never been so exhausted.

My biggest question is...how do mothers of two children run errands???  How about three...four...five children??  Do they ever leave their houses?

I might not---at least not with Callum! :)

It's raining, it's pouring...

It is raining like crazy here.  I love a good summer downpour.  It's been hot all day, and then all of the sudden--BOOM--clap of thunder and it starts to pour.  I love it.

I stood on our porch for a few minutes and watched the rain coming down in sheets, and then I came inside and discovered that our livingroom windows leak.  Lovely.  The arm of our new (to us) couch is now soaking.  I'm guessing it will leave a nice ring on the fabric when it dries.  This is why we shop Craigslist.

Speaking of, I've had a few requests for photos of our new apartment.  Our apartment is nothing fancy to blog about or photograph, but we did find a couple of pieces of furniture that I am pretty excited about.  I stumbled into an antique shop a few weeks ago, and I thought I had died and gone to Anthropologie Heaven (i.e. Anthro style but way cheaper).

I got a few cute things:

Tile Coffee Table

Look at the funky details!

Fun, bright kitchen chairs!

Unfortunately, there were only two of these, so I have to figure out how to get two more that somewhat match.

I love this hook for my aprons.
Also, please note the location of the electrical outlet.  That will become important later.

Isn't this jewelry thing cool?  It's just an old painted frame with chicken wire behind it.

I really like this banner.  Not sure where to hang it yet.

Old chest of drawers thing (I think there's a name for it)

 And here is the baby's $1 garage sale globe:

Lest you think our house is cuter than it actually is, allow me to show you our amazing kitchen cupboards:

Elegant.

Very posh.

Despite the crappy cupboards, we feel like we are really moving up in the apartment world.  Our first married apartment was an attic in Provo, Utah that we rented for $400 a month.  It was tiny, and the shower was under the slant of the roof, so we had to sit down or hunch over while we bathed.  I wish I had more photos of that place.  I think it was kind of charming.

Our next apartment was the upstairs of a little house in Buffalo, New York.  One bedroom; interesting neighborhood (i.e. robbed once and mugged once); the outlets were all in odd places, so it was a production to plug in any of our appliances; no AC for the humid summers and no insulation for the cold winters; living room painted "sunset pink" (no, we did not get to choose our paint colors).  We loved it.

We are now in a two bedroom apartment with leaky windows in Aurora, Colorado.  The kitchen is narrow and the cupboards are ugly, but at least the outlets are all in the right places, we have air conditioning, and we have our own washer and dryer right in our hallway closet.  The other day, Ryan was making himself a protein shake, and he said, "I love this place.  It is so easy to plug in the blender."  Life is good.

We haven't even attempted to decorate the baby's room yet--I think that is next week's project.  But adoption paperwork is coming along, and we are getting more and more excited.  We did receive fingerprint clearance (thanks for the prayers), so now we are just waiting for our new health insurance cards, Ryan's first paycheck, and a reference from our new Bishop.   I can't believe that this 1.5 year+ adoption journey is almost over.  I also can't believe that most married couples in the world just get to enjoy a romantic evening together in order to get a baby.  As Napoleon Dynamite would say, "Luuckyyy!"

Katie is doing well.  I believe she is 36 weeks along, and she looks great and is healthy.  The baby is due August 11, but I am going to visit her for five days at the end of July while her parents are out of town.  I can't wait to see her and to feel the baby kick.  We are going to have fun (I'm thinking shopping, movies, massages, restaurants), and we'll also meet with her caseworker to talk through adoption logistics and take a tour of the hospital where she will be delivering.  I'll also go with her to a doctor appointment. :)

I'll come back home to Colorado on July 29th, only to return to Utah a week later (August 5th) to await the baby's arrival.  Katie has invited us to be at the hospital when the baby is born, so we can be a part of his first few minutes of life.   I can't believe this is all really happening, and I am so grateful to Katie.  I love her.  Please keep her in your thoughts and prayers during these last few weeks of her pregnancy and in the weeks after the baby's placement with us.

The rain has let up, and I expect Ryan will be home from work any minute with lots of stories to tell me (he is really loving his job), so I better run.

Love you all.

Not your Typical Night at the Gym

Ryan and I don't have internet access in our apartment yet, so we occasionally go to the club house of our apartment complex to use the free wi-fi.  At night, the club house is locked, so we have to sit in the small (and crappy) gym to use the internet.  I am currently sitting on the floor of the dirty gym, while Ryan sits on one of the weight machines, both of us with our laptops.

Outside, a raucous Latino party is going on.  This is a full family affair, and every once in a while, one of the children comes wandering into the gym.  I asked one of the kids what the party is for, and she told me it's a baby shower.  I've never seen a baby shower so boisterous or with so many men--or so much beer.  (My older sister is throwing me a baby shower next week, and I doubt it will be this interesting.)

Now, eight kids have wandered in here.
A little boy about eight years old is running on the treadmill, going about 5 mph, wearing pointy cowboy boots.
A chubby girl holding her purse is trying out the elliptical.
A crowd of kids is now gathered around Cowboy on the treadmill, and he is increasing his speed to impress them.
I just spoke up and said, "Please don't go any faster.  I don't want you to trip.  I have fallen off a treadmill before, and it hurt."
I am now laughing.  The kids aren't.
A kid is now on every machine, Cowboy has stripped off his shirt, and he is sweating profusely.  His jeans are hiked up above his belly button, to keep them up as he runs.
Several parents have now entered the room and are watching this spectacle like it's the most normal thing in the world.

I have never seen anything like this ever.

I just thought I would share.

Feeling a Goodbye

I am sitting at my desk at school, and I am tired.  This morning, my desk was largely cleared of piles and rubbish (a colleague even commented, "Wow, this is the cleanest I have seen your desk in four years!")--but now, after a busy day of teaching, it is a disaster zone again. 

In front of me on the desk:

-a pile of vocabulary quizzes--two are graded, the rest remain untouched because I got distracted by organizing my lesson plan binders.
-a carved coconut head and a copy of Empire Falls, given to me by a tearful colleague whom I will dearly miss.
-four one-dollar bills, collected in my 7th period class as part of an effort to order pizza tomorrow for my "going away party" (the rest of the students swear they will have money tomorrow).
-a very chewed-up pen.
-a sticky note containing my current "to-do" list.
-a pile of The Scarlet Letter presentation outlines that I need to grade and return tomorrow.

Scattered across the floor of my classroom:

-a splayed out pile of the research papers that I collected today (and will need to grade sometime in the next month between graduation, moving, and a friend's wedding).
-a box of 125 copies of the school's literary magazine  (I am the club adviser).
-a speaker and microphone for tonight's poetry reading for the literary magazine (won't get home until about 10:00 p.m.).
 -a wrapped present for a colleague who is having a baby (never had a chance to give it to her today).
-my purse (with all of the contents spilled out on the tile because I accidentally kicked it when carrying in the box of literary magazines).

As I write this, I realize that this is the second blog post in two weeks that I've written in the format of a list.  It feels like my life right now has become a series of lists:  1. Finish a five-year teaching career to which I have given my whole heart and soul.  2. Pack up our little apartment on Rounds Ave and say goodbye to friends who have become our family.  3.  Watch my husband graduate from dental school and marvel at all he's accomplished.  4.  Drive across the country and find a new home that we hope to love as much as we've loved this one.  5.  Complete adoption paperwork as soon as possible and prepare to become the mother of a tiny, precious human being.

It's a lot to take in all at once.  Maybe the lists are helping me manage not only the many events that must take place in the next several weeks--but also the deep emotions that will accompany those events.  I am desperate to make sense of what I am feeling--to be able to capture it in words.  But I can't write about it--it feels too big--and I can't cry about it because, for some reason, I just don't cry.  I wish I did.

In the opening chapter of The Catcher in the Rye, Holden Caulfield is standing on a hill overlooking the football field at his boarding school.  He's just been kicked out for poor grades, and he knows he won't be returning next term.  He stands all alone in the freezing cold, watching his classmates down at the game enjoying themselves.  He says, in a way that only Holden can,"...Anyway, I kept standing next to that crazy cannon, looking down at the game...Only I wasn't watching the game too much.  What I was really hanging around for, I was trying to feel some kind of good-by.  I mean I've left schools and places I didn't even know I was leaving them.  I hate that.  I don't care if it's a sad good-by or a bad good-by, but when I leave aplace, I like to know I'm leaving it" (4). 

I know just what Holden means--and I'm just hoping that tomorrow, and in the coming weeks as the life I know and love changes so much, I can feel my goodbye.