Dear Santa

Little Man has been asking for a dog for the last year and we've been putting him off. Mostly by increasing his collection of stuffed animals. Now he's telling people that Santa is bringing him a REAL dog for Christmas. For CHRISTMAS!!!!! I don't know what to do. Do I hope that he doesn't remember? Do we risk his disappointment on Christmas morning? Should Santa start looking at a dog that will fit well with our family, just in case?

Help!

If you can't say something nice...

I have been working incredibly hard the last month to organize a successful fundraiser for Calvert Hospice. It's been stressful on the whole family and I've had my moments when I've wondered if it was truly worth it.

Friday was the big day and as with any big event, things went wrong and I didn't think we would get it all done. But thanks to my family and wonderful Hospice volunteers, it all came together. The Hall was beautifully decorated, the food was amazing, the silent auction went well and I got great feedback from my boss and from those attending. Of course, there was room for improvement (the perfectionist in me always finds something) but I was really happy with how things went.

Until yesterday....

A older gentleman came into the office yesterday. He seemed very nice when I first sat down to talk to him about his "concerns about the Gala". Then he just got mean. Once he started there was no way to stop it. I sat there quietly, trying to smile as he single handedly torn apart small details of the event which, in his mind, were less than acceptable. It felt as if it would never end, but eventually it did and I was able to escape to my office before the tears came. In a matter of minutes, the day went from feelings of happy relief to feeling as if I had failed. All of the little things that I knew weren't perfect, were now confirmed. All of my mistakes and certainties were pointed out in detail. I was wrong and I had failed. Now, I realize that some of this came from days (weeks) of sleep deprivation, 12 hour days and still trying to be a good mommy. But I spent the rest of the day nursing those wounds, trying to figure out what I should have done differently and wondering what brings us to be so mean to others.

I know there are times when registering a complaint is necessary. I wonder though how often we take it too far, straying from constructive criticism to just being mean. Do we truly understand the circumstances? Is it really going to improve the situation? When did it become ok to be so mean under the guise of being "concerned"?

I hope that next time I'm in a situation where I might feel "concerned" or think that someone just HAS to know every detail of what might be wrong, I can remember.... "If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all". Maybe it will keep someone's day from being as yucky as mine was yesterday.

Give Thanks

We have finally come to the end of Festival. The Gala was a success and we are hoping to head home on Saturday. I'm looking forward to life going back to "normal" and being able to settle in somewhere. So before November is over, I wanted to make sure I made my list... not the one that goes to Santa, but this one:

Things I'm Thankful for in 2009

people who are nice * our new house * my boys * trouser jeans * Wil * my job * a kind employer * family * Herbie * Kitty * having kids who are appeased by stuff animals, even when they want a real pet * thomas the tank engine* toys that don't make noise* little boys who do * Susie Q *yummy food * new recipes * my own kitchen * good friends* purple shoes * scarves * new make-up * chocolate * technology * shopping with my mom & sissie * cute blogs that come up with fun ideas so I don't have to * a sister who will finish my projects when I get in over my head * the gospel of Jesus Christ * Christmas music * my sewing machine * crafts * homemade gifts

What are you thankful for?

Bug & a Brownie

I rarely insert myself into my wife's blog and leave comments etc, but this was just to good.



w.

I'm picky about my hair... REALLY picky. It's fine but thick. It wants to be both straight and curly. It's difficult. And although there are times when it irritates me, I really do love my hair. Maybe this is why I have a LOVE/HATE relationship with getting it cut.


Years ago, when I had both the time and the money, I had a fabulous stylist named Sonya. She had a cute british accent, kept up on all the styles and knew my hair almost as well as I did. I sat in her chair every 6-8 weeks and trusted her implicitly with whatever she wanted to try. It's been 6 years and I still miss her. A few weeks ago I read Amy's post about leaving her favorite stylist, then came cjane's post about her hair and wished I lived in Provo, if only to call Ashlee for an appointment. (She would know what to do about all this gray. And the post partum hair growth that STILL hasn't caught up to the rest of my hair, not to mention that it grew back a different texture than the rest of my hair.) I realized that it was time for a haircut.


But who do I call? Why is finding a stylist more difficult than finding a doctor? Or am I about to find out that they are equally as difficult?

So this morning I got my haircut and now I'm wishing I had waited just a couple more weeks (or at least until after family pictures on Wednesday morning). I'm sure that a shower and styling it myself will help (it usually does), but seeing 3 inches of hair on the floor was not a good thing.

The lesson in all of this... I will spend the time and money it will take in 2010 to find a new stylist. One who will love my hair as much as I do. May it be a long and happy relationship.

and then I cried

We had a great "holiday" weekend. The boys looked super cute in their costumes, thanks to my fabulous sister. Without whom they would have been a monkey (third year in a row) and a dog (hand-me-down costume), because those costumes required absolutely no forethought or planning. Instead they went as the cutest Harry Potter you have ever seen and a little black cat. We spent time with family, ate lots of candy, got very little sleep and enjoyed seeing old friends again. This morning Wil and Zee packed up the car and the boys and went back to WV. They won't be back until next Tuesday. The following Monday starts my temporary single parenthood as Wil and I are living over two hours away from each other, I'm working full-time and he's tackling a 2 hour commute. I should be looking forward to my week of relief from most of the stress, only dealing with work and trying desperately to get caught up. Instead, I'm struggling to not feel like I'm getting a huge FAIL. I miss my boys already. I'm behind at work. I don't feel like I can be a good mom and be a good employee.

So I ask that you think of us in your prayers this month and I promise we will return to blogging as soon as the dust settles.

I hope I didn't snore

Ya know the times in life where you have to have a mantra in order to survive, something you can repeat over and over to yourself throughout the day in order to keep your sanity. Lately, mine has been:

"And now it came to pass that the burdens which were laid upon Alma and his brethen were made light; yea, the Lord did strengthen them that they could bear up their burdens with ease, and they did submit cheerfully and with patience to all the will of the Lord." (Mosiah 24:15)

With all of the changes happening in our lives, some of which we have chosen - some of which are being forced upon us, I've had a hard time being able to accept it all... and accept what it means to our day to day lives. I've had an ever harder time doing this all with patience and/or a good attitude. So I read my mantra everyday and tell myself that whatever happens I can handle it, and handle it with a good attitude. What I didn't expect to see from this is the blessings that have come this week... being able to recognize the little (and BIG) things that have helped me to bear my burdens with ease.

1. Zee and Wil have the boys. I know this isn't easy for them! It's allowed me to work long days and still recover from this nasty sinus infection.
2. Dad picking up dinner so I don't have to worry about it.
3. My boss... who gives me the freedom I need for my family.
4. Medicine. Especially the kind that knocks me out so I'm getting the sleep I need.
5. A Starbucks gift card.
6. Kind and generous people. A local massage thereapist called our office yesterday and offered free massages to all of the Hospice employees. You know I was first in line! I went over to his office expecting a 15 minute hand massage... an HOUR later he woke me up and sent me back to work.

Now I'm hoping that I've been able to regroup and rest enough that I can conquer the next 6 weeks.

Wil, Zee and the boys left grandma's house yesterday evening to head back to West Virginia for the week. I'm still in Maryland, trying to get caught up at work, without the stress of temporary single parenting. It is really strange (and super quiet) without my 3 boys.

Just to make sure I wouldn't miss them too much, they left me a present... the sinus infection I've been avoiding for the last 3 weeks. Dodging that bullet was too good to be true. But thankfully, I have the time this week to rest and get better.

So, "meet our animals" will be postponed til next week. Medicine is waiting at the pharmacy. And fingers are crossed that my boys will be good for their Zizi.

Five years and counting...

It's been five years since this day:

and I don't even know how to express how grateful I am for my wonderful husband.

So, in honor of our fifth anniversary, I'm going to give you my top 5 reasons why I love Wil.
1. When a mouse runs across the kitchen floor at 9:30 at night, he tries to catch it. Even though he's dog tired from being up since four and spending 14 hours at work.
2. When said mouse chase causes our living room to look like this:
He puts it all back AND does the dishes.
3. Our boys4. He works hard to be a better man, husband and daddy.
5. He loves me... even when I'm a big hot mess and forget it's our anniversary.

First there was Mrs. Mantis. Then the stink bugs came in droves. Now my husband is trying to catch the mouse in our living room. West Virginia hates me.