Hairy Adventures

I love hair. I have always liked playing with little girls' hair and styling my own (when I had the time! HA!) I have four younger sisters who were always patient enough to let me experiment on them, and it was SO much fun! We made some funky styles for sure!

Now that I have little girls of my own, I must say that I have put hairstyling low on the list. Hairstyles these days has been simply a couple of piggies or a barette to sweep the hair out of the face (or to keep snot and boogers out of it.) Well, I'm finally bored with it all and have started getting creative again! Oh, I have missed this art! I usually come up with my own styles, but I found this one (mine is a little different) online and just loved it. It's called a tiara, and you can see why. Here's Carleigh showing it off right!

And a close-up.

Just a fun shot because I think she's so beautiful!

booger

no, i do not want to see it.

i don't want to see how BIG it is.

and i definitely do not want you to put it in my mouth!

bella has discovered how to pick her nose (and those of others if they don't see her coming.) oh the joy!

it's all over

Folks, there is a REASON we finish college right out of high school! The older you get, the harder it is to learn and retain information. Then there are the life factors (getting married, working, having kids) that put additional strain on one's ability to be a success in college. This week, I took two exams, a quiz, wrote a paper, participated in an online discussion and completed four assignments. Did I stress that...THIS WEEK!? My brain is about to ooze out my ears. Seriously. I have another exam this Thursday, and have to keep up in my other classes.

A lesson here? Definitely...I started this venture for many reasons. The first...I have been convicted to create margin for my family. Thanks, Craig. Second...I want to be an example to my children, showing them that I value an education and hard work and that I finish what I start. They are young now, but I pray that one day they do see these things and never take for granted the time they have when they are young.

On a side note...I took a test today that was totally stressing me. I have had facts and dates running through my head for a week now getting ready for this thing. I started the test feeling I wasn't totally prepared, but I breezed through...and got 100% of the answers correct (50 questions)! I was totally flipping out, thinking there must be some mistake. But it wasn't...I aced it. I was yelling and jumping up and down, and my boys thought I was totally INsane! But they hugged me and shared my excitement! It was AH-MAZING!

sweet gifts

I got an amazing one tonight.

It's been a hard week to say the least. I have been studying every spare minute I could (and even some I shouldn't have.) Three exams, a paper and a handful of assignments all this week. My head is spinning, and my attitude is well....just sucky. More than once, I have jumped all over the kids for teeny weeny little things. I am tired and irritable. I keep asking myself why on earth I think I can pull this school thing off. :) You can do it, my Two reminds me. And then, You can do it, my One whispers. And so I press onward.

So today, everything came to a head, and I thought I had completely lost my mind. Got one of my tests out of the way today and feel I did well. Sigh. Turned in a few assignments. Went to my night class. I've almost made it.

I come home to a nearly dark house. Everyone is in bed and nearly everyone is asleep. My oldest greets me in the kitchen (he is supposed to be asleep) to show me the amazing weather station he made at his scout meeting earlier in the evening. I hug him and gently push him in the direction of his room, promisng to come pray with him (again) in a minute. I put away the milk and bread I stopped for on my way home and make good on my promise. We pray and then chat some...he tells me about his day and the things that were most important to him. I ask him about the things that are important to me. I kiss him lightly on the cheek, hug him and tell him goodnight. But as I stand up to leave the room, he asks me to kiss him on the lips. He does this a lot. I always do, but tonight, I just had to ask why. And this is what I got...

When you kiss my lips, I can save it until morning. See, I wipe it right here on my pillow by my head and when I wake up, I can have it again and keep it with me for the rest of the day.

I gave him an extra hug and kiss for that. What a way to end the day!

PS...my Two is my husband and my One is my Jesus.

52

that is the number of times i heard the nice man in front of us blurt out one of three very nice expletives on Saturday at the OSU-Houston game. i SO wanted to wash his mouth out with soap...or blow snot on him (since my allergies were on a rampage the second we stepped out of our car in Stilly.) i think the latter would have been more fun. oh...yeah...the point. well, i (naturally being better than him), was totally passing judgment. yes, please cuss...it couldn't possibly make you any more attractive than the dirty shirt you're wearing. sheesh...if he thought he was going to impress the totally hot girls in front of him, then i am WAY out of touch with what is attractive. okay, so now that you all think i'm totally mean...

i picked my 6-year-old up to take him to his scout meeting a little while ago, and on the way, i got cut off by a really bad (but probably very nice) driver. before my brain even caught up with my mouth, i heard it. learn to drive, dumba**! umm...what? where did that even come from? i make it a point to never say a word i wouldn't allow my child to repeat. (well, unless i am fired up and i can't get my point across without it! heh.) but seriously folks. dumba**?? couldn't i have at least made it count and dropped an f-bomb!? no...i picked that one. questions ensued, of course. i apologized and promised to never say it again. not good enough. i will likely face punishment later.

so...to foul-mouthed dirty shirt man...i am sorry i judged you so harshly (because i KNOW you are reading along). one expletive is as bad as 52.

butt kickin'

i'm totally prepared for one this week. i have a test, a quiz, and a paper due. that's on top of my usual homework. *puke*

the drive home

Each week, I have two days where I am alone in my car for an hour and fifteen minutes. In mommy time, this is an eternity! Of course, you can't do much besides drive and think. 45 minutes of the drive is made TO school at the OSU-OKC campus. Typically, just before the drive, I have been scurrying around the house getting things in order for Chris or the babysitter, whomever will be caring for the little people when I leave. I am usually frazzled by the time I get into the car. I am worried about whether or not I will have a quiz over the periodic table or metric conversions (flash card images run through my mind)...and whether or not I will make it to class on time. I worry about the kids, and what terror they might inflict upon the sitter. I worry about Chris and if he will be in the frame of mind to handle dinner, bath and bedtime alone.

Then I hit traffic, and I become even more frazzled. I typically have the radio blaring to drown out my goofy thoughts, but once I hit traffic, I am forced to turn it down or completely off. I can't concentrate otherwise. I am the only one in the car, and even with the radio off, it is difficult for me to "hear". I continue on, the traffic only becoming heavier as I reach my destination (it is at it's thickest right at the school).

I curse at other drivers.

Merge already!

Feel free to use a turn signal!

Of course, this is all done in my mind for fear that if I do it out loud, one of them might hear me and try to run me off the road. right. It sounds so much less lame in my brain.

As I sink into my seat in class, I am worn out.

I make it through class and do well at what I feared I wouldn't. I am getting this stuff. I leave feeling triumphant. The last couple of class sessions, the weather has been so pleasant, so I walk slowly to my car while enjoying the hint of fall weather all around. Sometimes, I am lucky enough to enjoy stimulating conversation with a classmate along the way.

I start the car and pause for a few moments before pulling out of my parking space. The radio is off from the drive before, but there is no other noise this time. It is quiet. My thoughts are no longer screaming through my head. I realize that there is peace all around me, and I can finally "hear." There is only the sound of my engine revving as I accelerate or the thud of my brake pedal as I press it down to the floor. The entire drive home is this way. It is only 30 minutes or so, but it is the sweetest part of my day. I spend the entire drive lost in sweet conversation with my Jesus. I actually hear him, and I am so free in listening. It's like chatting with an old friend...I can tell him anything, and he understands.

It was just tonight that I realized this pattern I have created, and it completely signifies the rhythm of my life. When I try to be in control, I am frazzled and worried. When I let go, true peace sinks into me, and I can truly be with my God the way he intends for me to be.

big hairy fits defined

large-sized anxiety-causing sudden outbursts of emotion

uhhh...can anyone say TWO-YEAR-OLD!?

jesus and chocolate

What is it about chocolate that makes you have to eat it until it's gone? If it is in my house, I will eat it...and not in moderation, mind you. I just can't get enough. And did I mention how incredibly happy it makes me?

Hmmm...could this possibly be the reason I bounce back and forth between the same 5 pound weight loss or gain? Another discussion perhaps.

All this happy choco binging reminds me of a time not so long ago that I binged on something else that made me deliriously happy...God's word. I couldn't get enough of it. I was constantly hungry for more. I read and read and read and read. I memorized powerful verses that I knew would help me fend off any spiritual attacks and I was excited to share with anyone who would listen...especially my kids! My excitement for what I learned was contagious, and in them grew a desire to know more, too! It was AWESOME. Even when life placed irritating pebbles in my shoe, I felt His presence and knew it was as it should be. So, what happened? I just don't know. What an incredibly complicated answer, right? I do not know why I no longer devour the word of our Lord as if I were starving. It must have happened slowly, as I don't recall an abrupt halt. My fire is still burning (or rather, flickering), and I crave God's word...but I am not starving for it any longer. How do I get back to that place? I want to be there again.

Hmmmm...oh, how I wish I were wiser and had more of the answers already.

chores vs. children

But I don't want to...


I hear this phrase often from my little people, upon being annoyed that I even asked and usually in response to a request to make a bed, to pick up shoes cast in the middle of the living room floor, or to pick up a wet towel from the bathroom floor. Seems there is always something far more important to do...somehow, even picking the lint from between their toes ranks above cleaning up after themselves.


If they'd just do it in the first place, I wouldn't have to ask.


I don't understand. Even as a child I was a fairly neat kid. I got the occasional request to clean my room, but I actually enjoyed it. I loved organizing my things, right down to my stuffed animals. I would change up how they were organized, sometimes alphabetical by name, sometimes by color. It didn't matter. I always knew where everything was and where it went. Definitely not a toss it all under the bed kind of kid.


Why can I not teach neatness to my offspring??? They are, after all, my flesh. There should be some of my obsessive compulsiveness within them, right? But alas, I have one child who is eager to help and does whatever is asked, two whose room could wreak of rancid wet towels for a week without them asking about the stink, one who is rapidly developing the art of creating living spaces similar to the after effects of a natural disaster, and one whose work habits are yet to be revealed. My home is definitely not the vision of lovliness I dreamed it would be many years ago before I had children. For me, order means peace. When my home is in order, I am at peace. My home is never in order.


Seriously, am I ever at peace? I mean really at peace? What does that even mean? I constantly seek peace, but what does that look like? Is peace really having a well kept home and clean well-behaved kids all the time? A lovely vision, no doubt, but definitely not real peace. I'm sure that this elusive concept is different for everyone, but for me, being at peace means letting go of the little things that do not deserve my attention...that means the bitterness at having to pick up just one more thing off the floor, the worry that someone might see how messy my car is on the inside, the guilt I feel for telling my child just a minute when asked to play. Would I lay down my life to have an immaculate home? Uh, nope. Would I die on a hill for my child's eternal life? YES, YES, YES!!! Sheesh, a no brainer.

the fine art of napping

***update***9.4.08 Bella napped yesterday and today...and went down pretty easily, too! BONUS!

Um, yeah. Napping? Whatever happened to two-year-olds who nap? I have one of those...you know, two-year-olds. She's great...really. But not when she misses her nap. You see, I believe there is an art in napping, especially in a napping two-year-old. It's not so much that it's an art for her...but for me. It's an amazing event. She goes down for her nap, and there is a never-ending silence in the house. It is one only experienced during nap time. Truly beautiful if you have never experienced it. We have had the pleasure of witnessing artful napping for a couple of years now (would make sense given that our two-year-old is, well, a couple of years old). But in the past couple of weeks, that nap has become rather elusive. I so took for granted it's beauty before. Now, however, I NEED for that glorious wonder to return so that I can STUDY. Forget getting the laundry done anymore. Oh please, oh please, nappy return to me.