My Obligatory Duck Dynasty Post

So I woke up to a wicked crap-storm of arguing about Phil Robertson on my news feed this morning.

Since every numbskull in America had an opinion, coupled with the fact that I'm in a terribe mood, I figured I should share my view as well. 

It's absolutely no secret that I could give a crap less about who sleeps with who as long as they're in a committed, loving relationship. I've been very blunt about that in the past. 

It's also not a secret that I love the people of Duck Dynasty. I've also been blunt about that. 

So here I sit trying to decide how I feel about it all. 

It's no surprise to me that Phil Robertson had his opinion on homosexuality.  Like, no surprise at all. What DID surprise me was how crass Phil made his opinion sound when he put it out to the world. 

Putting the whole "a sin is a sin" thing to the side, let's look at the fact that he lumped homosexuality in with beastiality. 

These, in my opinion, are nothing in the same.

 "But, Heather! They're both so perverse!", you say. 

I know heterosexual couples who could put the most seasoned hookers to shame with how perverse they are in their bedroom. 

Shall we lump them in with bestiality? 

"But, Heather! They're SINNING!"

Okay,  I'm not of any authority (and get off your pedestal, cause neither are you) to go around pointing fingers at what is sin and what isn't because I live and sin EVERY. SINGLE. DAY. 

I am not perfect and neither are you, so we should leave it up to The One who is Perfect, yes? 

"But, Heather! I'm saving their eternal lives! I'm saving them from going wayward!" 

I've said it time and time again, it's my job to focus on a person's salvation, not their sin. As a Christian I am to witness to others about Jesus and God. 

Let's break that down. 

Witness to others about God... To me, this means I am to experience miracles and blessings in my life and then share with others what I have WITNESSED to show them proof that in my life, God has made a huge difference. 

Does sin-shaming fall anywhere in that category?

That's a big, profound NOPE. 

Okay, okay. Stepping off my soapbox here. 

Put yourself in their shoes. Like, really. Really, really think about how you would feel as you were scrolling through your feed and saw people you loved and people who were your friends, rabidly telling the world they think that you were the very same as murders, child rapists, etc. 

I simply couldn't stomach myself if I treated someone else that way. I would be ashamed. 

But, hey, that's just me. 

As far as Duck Dynasty goes, I'll continue watching, I'll continue liking the family, just like I continue to love you all, regardless of the fact that I disagree with you sometimes. 

Here's where I should insert some wonderful clincher about how we should examine ourselves and love one another, but I feel it may be wasteful. So I'm just stopping... Now. 

A brand new day

Today is a new day.

Yesterday I let the world know that our family lost another child. 

Yesterday was hard. I had moments where I cried. But as the day went on, I felt stronger. I actually laughed. 

 I felt guilty in the moments that I laughed. 

Who laughs the day after a miscarriage?

I do. 

Like I said previously, this was our fifth miscarriage. We've been here before. It doesn't make it any easier. At all. 

However, this means that I've grieved this situation four previous times. 

I've questioned God, been angry with Him, angry with myself, sad, guilty, basically the whole mish-mash of emotion that come with miscarriage. 

I'm also nearing 28, which mean I've had 28 years to get to know myself. 

One thing that I've learned about myself is that I crack jokes and make others and myself laugh when troubled times engulf us. 

When my grandma was dying I giggled when I remembered how she made me peel the wallpaper off her bathroom wall because it looked like a demon. 

When my grandpa was hospitalized, I was cracking jokes with my cousins while standing beside him. 

After my grandad passed away, my sister and I laughed roariously when we kept finding his multiple cigarette pack stashes. He was sneaky!

All of these examples are extremely innapropriate. I know this. However, I will let you cry if you let me laugh. 

This is how I move on. I feel that sadness is completely normal. I'm sad when I laugh. But laughter makes things seem normal again. It's like music to me. The people that we lose don't want us to be sad forever. 

When I die, I expect you all to wail and cry during my funeral because I'm a drama queen and like the attention. But the second you sit your butts down to nosh all of that glorious post-funeral food that the south is known for, I expect you all to tell the most embarrassing stories about me. I won't haunt you for it. 

Promise. 

My point in all of this is that life moves on. I can choose to move with it or stay stagnant. 

Which kind of water is prettier? 

The kind that is sitting still, algae covered, with Shrek  holed up in the middle? 

Or the clear water that flows through the twists and turns, overcoming rocks and logs in its way?

 I know which I choose. 

I still hurt. 

I still cry. 

I still laugh. 

I still breathe, though it's hard sometimes.

I still live. 

Living is important. It's more than your body continuing to function. 

It's Experiencing. 

I've been laughing with my two kiddos this morning and it's healed me so much. I have life to experience. 

And quite frankly, I just don't want to be sad. 

So if you see me acting normal and laughing, please don't think of me as cold. It's me healing. Respect it please. 

Miscarriage

My friends, last week my husband and I received the joyous news that we were pregnant again.

We were excited and terrified. We had decided earlier this year that our family was complete, so we sold all of our baby and maternity stuff. When we found out the news, we giddily thought of all the things we needed in just 9 short months. 

A month ago, we confessed to each other, that despite our having sold all of our baby possessions, and the fact that all bedrooms in our home are filled already, we both longed for another baby. 

Fast forward to last week. We couldn't believe that we had gotten pregnant that fast. It must have been in God's plan for us since we got pregnant so quickly. I, of course, was worried because we've had four miscarriages, but for some reason, I felt good about this pregnancy. 

Last night, we lost the baby. 

I couldn't even tell Josh. I gave him "the look" and almost burst into tears. I holed up in the bedroom the rest of the night. 

Guilt consumed me. My body failed my baby and I was the sole reason my husband's heart was broken. 

Me. 

I'm the only one responsible. 

Of course I know I did nothing wrong. I know that it was out of my control. 

But was it?

I chose to chance this heart break. I convinced my husband that everything would be fine. 

I lied. 

He was angry. 

Not because he's a douchebag, but because he had to feel. Feeling isn't his forte, and he had lots of feels last night. I was broken and he was broken and he couldn't fix either of us. So all he could feel was anger. 

Of course I was angry at him for being angry. 

But then, something beautiful happened. 

I prayed for peace for both of us. 

I couldn't pray for anything else really. 

Suddenly, the situation was put in perspective and I was able to see Josh's side of things. 

When a pregnant woman miscarries, everyone is sad for her and worried for her, as they damn well ought to be. 

However, people forget that the husband loses a child as well. He is most often forgotten and pushed to the side. 

His heart is broken, yet he has to "remain strong" for his wife as he helps her body heal. He has to cheer her up while he's dying a little inside. 

I was being selfish last night. I expected total sympathy and comfort from him, but wasn't willing to return it. 

I was floored at this revelation. 

I sent him a text because I couldn't talk without crying. 

I told him I loved him and that I would help him through this however he needed me to. 

About an hour later he came in and we just held each other. We said nothing. 

He needed to be remembered.

 He needed to be comforted. 

Men like to be strong, but no one expects them to be strong when they lose a child. 

As for me, I have my moments where I mourn for what could have been here on earth. 

But you know what? My baby never had to live in this broken world. 

He or she got to go straight to a Perfect world. 

How amazing is that?

Please keep us in your prayers as we heal. 

Thanks, y'all. 

Monster Mom

Yesterday was a rough day between parents and kids at our home. 

It was one of those days where you can see yourself becoming a train wreck, yet you can't stop yourself. 

Then you go to bed feeling upset, embarrassed, and guilty.  

This morning I read an entire parenting bible plan in 10 minutes and every single verse hit me in my gut. Especially:  

"Love is always supportive, loyal, hopeful and trusting."

Wow. Gut punch. 

I was tearing my children down, betraying their trust in their mom. I was doubtful of their future, and broke any trust they had in me. 

Today is going to be different. Bad habits are hard to break, but breaking this one is crucial. 

I tell you all this embarrassing behavior because I absolutely know I'm not alone. Some days we feel like we're drowning. Some days we feel like we're making mistakes left and right as parents. Some days it feels as though we're losing a war in our homes. 

Parents, we are. 

There is nothing more satisfying to evil than to see families at war with each other. 

The change in our families starts with us. 

I could sit here and preach all day, but I may be the worst offender out there. I will fail some days, but the important thing is that I try. 

Try with me will you, friends?

Our kids have a lifetime to hear what's wrong with them. They'll learn about the cruelty in the world soon enough. Let's create a haven at home for them where they feel safe to talk and express their feelings. 

Challenge yourselves. Challenge your spouse. Challenge your children. 

Because at the end of the day when things get hard, it's your family against the world. 

Friday Follow-Up

Hello, friends!
It looks as though we've made it through the week!
Give yourself a pat on the back.

I'm currently sitting here in my hogs shirt and ball shorts, sipping my coffee, trying to decide what this day has in store for me.

Luckily, I have my handy-dandy Homemaker Bible that I made handy, so I can consult it when I get lost in my head.

Well, "What is that Bible you speak of?", you ask?
It's not actually a bible, but it's my second go-to book when I need encouragement or direction. Just about every wife I've spoken with has some sort of back up system for their families in case they are sick or have to travel. My binder in particular has billing information, recipes for food and cleaning products, our daily schedule, our monthly schedule, etc... It's pret-ty handy if you ask me! I also organize our holiday schedules and lists in there as well. It's the one-stop-shop for all things for the Cook Household.

I'm thinking of selling the starter kit that includes cleaning recipes, our favorite recipes, as well as financial folders, and varied tabs. At least I will if there's interest!

So, I suppose I will need to get on with the picture taking to help you understand exactly what I mean.

The rest of my day will be filled with sloppy joes, cookie baking, and some Thanksgiving history lessons.

Sawyer has been completing all of his lessons by 11:30, so that has given us the rest of the day to freestyle our homeschooling schedule. By the way, I AM still working on that post. It's kind of emotional and I would like to write it without dragging his teacher through the mud.
That part is hard though. Anyways, I haven't forgotten!

My dear husband is currently sitting in the cold, dark woods waiting to kill a deer. We've talked about me going out with him at some point, but I really don't think I could shut up long enough for him. Maybe I cold just text him the whole time. Ha!

So, that's all the rambling I have currently.
What are your plans to kick-off the weekend?
 Have a happy Friday, folks!

Heather and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Night

Have you ever had a day as a parent where you wish someone stepped in to give you a time-out? You can watch the train wreck happening, but can't step out of the situation long enough to get ahold of yourself? You watch your face contort into something the scariest monsters would fear, you hear your voice raise loud enough the neighbors can hear the growling breaths you take between each word, and you can feel the burn of the tears welling up in your eyes.

No?

Well, good for you. Here's your "I'm-the-best-parent-ever"plaque. I'll even burn that quote onto your plaque with the fire I'm breathing tonight. 

Ladies and gents, Heather broke tonight.  

Something snapped inside of me. Iamong other incidents that happened earlier today, this evening I got tired of repeatedly telling the kids to clean the living room, I was ignored when I asked them to quit fighting, I simply got a grunt from Isaiah when I asked him to straighten his desk that I asked him to straighten two weeks ago, I have to caress my too-small dishwasher and speak sweet nothings to it for it to actually clean my dishes most nights... Tonight that didn't work. 

The final straw was when I tripped over the dagnab army gear that my husband still hasn't put away even though it's been a week since he's gotten home from drill. 

I layed face-first in the floor, half-way under the computer chair sobbing for at least 7 minutes. 

But who's counting?

Then... I was so angry... I stopped crying. 

See, my stages of anger goes a little something like this:

1. Snotty shot-taking. 

2. Silent treatment with stomping. 

3. Yelling

4. Yelling and crying

5. Crying alone

6. Silence. Complete silence

7. If-you're-in-the-room-I'll-find-some-reason-to-yell-at-you anger

I was at step 6. 

So you see what was coming next. 

I layed into everyone. When I was done, of course everyone felt awful and nothing was accomplished. I apologized. But I know damage was done. Every time this happens, regardless of who the parties involved are, damage is always done. 

I felt taken advantage of, therefore I felt bitterness towards everyone,  and those are grown up problems, Not problems I need to take out on my kids. 

The worst part of tonight you ask?

Yes, it gets worse. 

No one in my house was surprised by my behavior. 

Have I done this so regularly that they've become desensitized?

Or do they know that I'm just having a bad night?

I choose to believe the latter. 

I do hope tomorrow goes better for sure and that I'm back to my typical peppy self. 

We as parents set the tone of our homes. We absolutely have every right to be upset when things are unfair and one sided. However, we are adults, therefore we must handle these emotions like adults. 

Ouch. I acted just like my kids were acting.

"Hi, my name is Heather, and I'm a hypocrite."

How do you deal with your anger?

What sets you off the fastest?

Who can you talk to when you get angry?

My favorite crockpot roast recipe

I love roast.

Like, I think sometimes I'm more excited to see a good roast cooking more than I'm excited to see my husband. 

Okay, not really. 

But that shows you how much I love roast. 

My dad and my sister make amazing roasts, so as a new bride 8 years ago, I was excited to see if I inherited the "roast gene." Josh was in Iraq, so I was only cooking for myself. I bought those awesome-if-you're-single-or-learning-to-cook frozen roast meals. 

I thought I was an amazing cook. 

I was, because I put in the effort of schlepping to the store with the sole intention of buying this frozen goodness and then remembering to put it in my crockpot the next morning. 

That WAS me being a good cook. 

Well, after Josh came home, he cooked real food for me and I couldn't go back to what I was cooking before. 

After using oven bags, roasting pans, and my crockpot to cook from-scratch roasts, I was saddened to realize that I could cook just about anything... Except roasts. 

It was a dark day in the Cook household. 

My poor family has had to eat runny roasts, dry roasts, and burnt roasts over the last 8 years. *shudders*

However!

Last year the roast gods smiled on me and my dear dad shared with me a fail-proof de-licious recipe for roast that also doubles as a gravy after the roast is finished. 

I wish I knew where he got the recipe so I could throw some credit and snaps in that person's direction. Seriously, they deserve it. 

If I had thought about it, I would have taken pictures of my roast last night for a visual aid, but alas, I did not. 

But, here's the recipe, so don't get too ruffled. *grins*

Easy-peasy crockpot roast:

1 roast- any kind of meat or size (The magic works for all)

2 cans cream of mushroom soup ( the standard can size, not family sized)

1 packet onion soup mix

Pour soup in bowl and have your flippin' adorable daughter stir in the onion soup envelope.
Oh wait, the daughter thing is optional  or can be substituted for adorable  son or handsome husband. 

Put roast in crockpot (the roast can be frozen or thawed. I never remember to thaw mine and it turns out super tender regardless) and pour onion and soup mixture on top. 

Cover and cook on low for 6-8 hours. 

That's. It. 

That's. It. 

How easy is that? 

Like I said, the soup mixture can also be used as a gravy for your taters as well. 

It's simply amazing. 

Happy Saturday, folks! Let me know how your roasts turn out!

The Doomed Herbs Pt. 2

So, do you guys remember my post a few months ago about how I had planted some herbs and the were doomed because I can't keep plants alive?

Well, here they are. 

Yes, you're seeing this correctly. There are only two plants left. 

One is basil, and I'm pretty sure that that thing growing in my dill container is in fact   NOT dill. 

Oh, well. I tried. 

Also, do you guys remember how I mentioned that I almost killed my aloe plants. 

Well, one did die. 

I really need to get a grasp on this whole gardening thing if I want my tea business to make a profit. 

Well, we're off to enjoy "free day, Friday" in our homeschool plan today. Who knows what trouble we'll get into. 

Have a happy weekend, friends!

Sentence fragments, homeschool, and arguments. Oh my!

First of all, I need to express that this is the first time in months that I'm composing a long body of work that ISN'T an essay.

You know what? 

It feels GOOD. 

Rules are out the window. 

Fragment. 

Fragment. 

Dumb words.

Comma, splice. 

Mwahaha! Take that, English language. Take my abuse!

Okay, reel it in, Heather. 

I promised a post that explained where I've been. 

I've been immersed in college. 

Day in, day out. 

I hate it. 

Absolutely hate it. 

Let me start out with how I got here. 

I was in a stay-at-home mom rut this summer. I was longing for a career and I was absolutely sure that's the direction that God was leading me in. 

No, I didn't pray about it, and no, I didn't put much thought into how it would effect my family life. 

I was planning on waiting until spring to begin classes. I wanted to make sure that this was indeed where I was being led. However, after deciding that it was me procrastinating rather than being cautious, I decided to head up to the college and sign up for classes the Friday before college started. 

My advisor signed me up for Art appreciation, English comp 1, and algebra I, II, and III for the fall semester. 

I explained to him that I really, really struggled with algebra and I only wanted to take algebra I and II, but he said the college prefers students to take the three block. I trusted him even though every fiber of my being was screaming, "Stop!"

Some day I will learn to put my foot down and say no when my gut tells me to. 

I ended up dropping algebra III. That's okay. 

I have no fewer than four homework assignments in my English class weekly. One of those assignments averages 100 questions most weeks. That's on top of the class work and essays.  

I've had to skip my art class (the only class I actually like and want to go to) so I can stay caught up in my other two classes. This has cost me attendance points which has hurt my grade. 

With all this being said, I have decided to change degrees, therefore, none of the classes I'm currently taking count toward my degree. 

So... Yeah. 

I'm still taking my classes seriously and putting my whole heart into them. I feel that it's being respectful to the instructors and education is never wasted. 

I watched a video today about a Pakistani teenager who was shot by the Taliban for speaking out about women deserving education. 

How can I not appreciate being able to earn a degree after watching that?!

So, no matter how much my heart doesn't want to be at school right now, I have been provided with an opportunity to better myself. 

By golly, I'm going to stick it out. 

But here's what is really getting me to a place of wanting to quit. 

I miss my family and I have mom guilt. 

One of the reasons I decided to go ahead and start school now is because Sawyer started kindergarten this year. I figured I would have more time. 

About two weeks into school, we realized that our school system wouldn't be able to provide him with enough challenges and quite frankly, his teacher acted like a few choice words towards him at our parent teacher conference. 

We decided that was the final straw and as soon as he was officially enrolled in an online public school, we yanked him out of that school in the middle of the school day. (This whole story is another post in itself.)

Okay, back on topic. 

We obviously decided to homeschool. Well, that's a task in itself. 

Here is where Josh and I are right now:

I'm homeschooling my son and going to college full time. 

Josh is homeschooling our son and going to college plus working full time. 

We are trying to sort through chores, who fills the gas tanks, who pays the bills, who grocery shops, and who gets to sleep that night. 

Yes, this is where I'm struggling. 

My family needs me. 

All of me. 

Right now. 

And I need them. 

All of them. 

Right now. 

My heart and my calling right now is homemaking and my family. 

I was told by a good friend the other night that one can't deny a calling. 

When you deny a calling, none of the other life pieces for together. 

Yes, friends, this is what's happening. 

Our family life is chaos, and at times, feels like it's hit a wall at 70 mph. 

Josh and I are exhausted. 

We're literally exhausted. 

We're exhausted mentally. 

We're exhausted in our parenting. 

We're exhausted in our marriage. 

The hard thing is: Me going back to school is what has caused this. 

It was the catalyst in a cataclysmic landslide of our family. 

It. Just. Worked. Better. The. Other. Way. 

There is absolutely no denying it. 

For my new readers: 

I'm about to be honest about my marriage. Awhile ago I asked Josh if there was anything he would like me to keep off of my blog. 

His response was, "Who am I to stop something great. Write what's in your heart." 

How awesome is that?

Snaps to Josh.

(Yes, I just referenced Legally Blonde.)

Anyways, The stress reached a peak this week. 

This week is midterms and there were a lot of deadlines. 

Every morning for the last two weeks I have woken up and have been sick to my stomach because of stress. I've averaged about three hours of sleep nightly. Yes, I understand this is typical for college students. However, when you're nearing thirty and have three kids and a husband, all nighters are not that easy. 

Josh and I have bickered, blamed each other over the dumbest things, and have just been avoiding each other. 

Case-in-point of how gnarly it got:

I'm the kind of fighter in my marriage where I need to fix the fight immediately.  I always have been that way. Loose ends drive me crazy and I can't stand anyone being upset with me. 

The other morning, Josh and I got into over something. I can't even remember what now. 

I was tired of crying in front of him so I went to take a shower so I could cry in private. At some point in the shower, my hurt turned to anger. This NEVER happens to me. I always assume I'm to blame, so I tend to apologize incessantly. 

However, something in me snapped. 

When I walked out of the bathroom, Josh apologized quickly. 

I started to walk away (unheard of between us), but then I turned around and said, "I am angry right now. I don't want to fix this right now. I have every right to be mad. We'll revisit this after the kids go to bed. Okay?"

I could have literally scraped Josh's jaw off the floor. 

I never feel justified in my feelings. I'm never in control of the argument. And I certainly never walk away with things unresolved. 

It felt GOOD.

However, this is an example of the extremes that me going back to school has caused  our marriage to go to. 

Not everything that has come out of this experience is bad though. 

I've had to learn to do things alone. I've learned that it's okay for me justify my feelings. I've learned that I'm important to my family. Most of all, I've learned that I'm not as dumb as people have told me in the past. I feel like my grades aren't good enough, but they certainly aren't bad at all. 

We'll see how the rest of the semester plays out. 

Thank you, friends, for sticking through this time with me. 

You are all such a blessing! 

Snaps to y'all. 

Homemade Swiffer Wet Jet Cloth

Today I have hit a wall. An ick wall to be exact. I was pushing through full steam until lunch time when I just went downhill quickly. 

Fortunately, I start my day at about 5 in the morning, so a large chunk of my work was already finished. 

Unfortunately, part of that work came to fruition because my Swiffer cloth I made 2 years ago bit the dust this morning. It was simply worked to death. 

A few years ago I decided to find a frugal way to replace the never ending purchases of wet Swiffer cloths. I was going through them at a ridiculous rate. 

So here's what I came up with:

It's not perfect stitching by any means, but I don't think my Swiffer minds. 

I really, really stink at tutorials, so just bear with me. 

Materials:

Velcro strips (enough to cut into four 2 inch pieces) 

Durable washcloth

Sewing machine/or needle

Thread

The first thing you need to do is find a high quality, durable washcloth. 

Fold it in half and sew along all the edges. It should look like this:

Once you have that done, you get yourself some Velcro. Walmart sells long strips. 

Cut into four 2 inch long strips. 

(I forgot to get a picture of this. I told you I'm not good at this.)

Make sure you're using the soft side of the Velcro. 

Pin each piece in the corner of your washcloth. 

Yay! Look at how awesome you are. So nifty, you. 

Sew each piece on making sure you see the edges so they don't pull off. 

Once you have all 4 sewn on, you're ready to attach the cloth to your Swiffer and get to cleaning!

Congratulations. You are now a frugal goddess.  

Good on you.

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Throwback Thursday

This isn't your average Throwback Thursday where I post old pictures of myself. 

 No one wants me to do that. I grew up in the 80's and 90's, enough said. 

Nope, I figured since my blog is about the South somewhat  after all, I should, you know, post about it every now and then. 

I have every intention of posting some things I learned while reading Bittersweet Country by Ellen Cray Massey. 

It's a book I inherited from my great- grandpa about the early years in the Ozarks ( the area where I'm from).

Every post will have some facts and day-in-the-life examples. I've read it before and it was so interesting to me, but it's been awhile, so I need to re-read. 

I know personally, by the time I cared where my family came from and southern traditions, the people who would have answers had already passed on. 

This way I can start new and teach my children. 

Whether or not we use these skills everyday or not, it's still nice to know how. 

Oh, and just to be a good sport, here's my kindergarten picture. Note the acid wash dress and the untamable cowlick. 

I'll see you next Thurdsday!

Be excited. 

=0)

Manic Monday

This title truly describes our Monday.

I was so busy yesterday sewing, cleaning, running, and babysitting that I didn't have a chance to blog. 

We had a plan on Monday, and some things we stuck with, yet other events were thrown in randomly. 

Our first stop was out to a farm to get some fresh milk and free range chicken eggs. We had never had raw milk and quite frankly, we scoffed at it. I'm not against store bought and I wouldn't pay extra for raw milk. This purchased saved me money, plain and simple. The eggs were $1.50 a dozen and the milk was $3.50/ gallon. But, the milk has a layer of cream on the top that filled a pint jar. I used it for my creamer and on my next purchase, I will be making butter with the cream. So... A gallon of milk and a pint of cream for $3.50... Yeah, count me in. 

After that we headed out to Ponca to see how high the water was when we discovered a preserved farm that we had never noticed before. Being the adventurers we are, we decided to check it out. 

This is the barn. 

Hoops anyone? Josh had to explain to me why this bucket was nailed to a tree, you know, cause I'm oblivious. 

This is the actual cabin. I really want our next family portrait shoot to be here. 

Like, desperately. 

This is the smokehouse. 

Back porch. 

Root cellar. My Nanny's house has one of these. My mom said scorpions used to run rampant in it. 

*shudders*

Pretty sure we all know what this is. 

And finally, the Chicken coop

Sawyer was grumbly at this point. He doesn't really care for nature or the heat. 

We headed about a mile down the road and went to one of the viewing areas for Elk spotting. We only got to see a baby one from really far away, but Sawyer got to read about them and Sofia got to climb and run.  

After we left there, we went one of our good friend's homes to pick wild blackberries. I intend to make some blackberry vanilla jam with them later. I didn't get any pictures of the picking because the kids were purple and cranky at this point. 

After some naps were over, we headed to my dad's to vacuum our vehicles and let the kids play in the sprinkler. 

I love our Monday adventures! 

What day does your family like to have adventures on and what are some of your favorite things to do? 

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Happy hump day!

The Doomed Herbs

Yep, I planted some herbs on a whim yesterday. I call them "doomed" because I have a tendency to kill plants.

I literally almost killed our aloe plants. Those are hard to kill, y'all. 

I'm so tired of not having fresh herbs on hand and I like to dry my own herbs in the kitchen. It makes me feel like I have the kitchen out of The Good Witch movies. 

If you haven't watched The Good Witch movies on the Hallmark Channel, please do so. I LOVE them and are a requirement to start my Fall. 

Anyways...

Here the herbs are on day one. I'll do weekly updates for your comic relief to see (if they even grow) how quickly I kill them. 

Let's go on an adventure together!

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Lazy, crazy Sunday

                            

So this is what I'm doing this morning. 

Yes, that is a Jack Skellington coffee mug that Josh got for me a few birthdays ago. I like to use it on drill weekends cause, well, I'm a sap and I miss him. 

Call me romantic. 

I was planning on trying to go to church with just me and the kids, but in all honesty, we're new to this church and I've never taken the kids by myself. 

Call me a wuss. 

So we're reading the bible here at home today and talking about the kid's bible stories. 

We've been getting a super abnormal amount of rain lately, which means the lawn needs mowed like crazy. However, since it can't help raining at least once a day, they yard never dries so I can mow it. It's a viscous cycle. I may attempt to mow this afternoon when we get back from my dad's house. 

Also on my list for this afternoon is climbing the Neighbor's apple tree (chill, no one lives there and free fruit should never go to waste) and get some apples to make and can some apple pie filling. I bought and Amish cookbook a few months back and I'm dying to try some of the recipes, although it seems like I've lost my cooking touch recently. 

I've had more meals bomb than succeed. Oh well, practice makes perfect. 

Stay tuned for tomorrow night because we have some adventures planned and of course I'll want to share. 

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Happy Sunday, y'all!

Why I'm excited for back-to-school: It's not why you think.

*WARNING: Soapbox session about to commence*

I haven't much thought about what it means when parents say "I'm exhausted! I'm ready for school to start back!"..  Until recently when I had a friend bring it up on Facebook. It just never crossed my mind as an issue. It was something that I heard regularly growing up, so it was just something parents said, right?

Why are parents so excited for school to go back in session? 

Usually the most popular answer is because they're tired and are ready for a break. 

What does that say to your child who overhears it?

"Mom/ Dad can't wait for me to get out of their hair. Am I a burden?"

Most likely they aren't reading into it that consciously. However, some might, and there is that implication behind it. 

You can't really take that statement any other way. 

We as parents made a conscious decision to have our children and raise them. 

Instantly that means we made the decision to make them feel special, important, wanted. If you feel they are a burden, remember, you chose this to be a "burden" you wanted. 

I absolutely have days where I'm like, "I'm so ready for bedtime. I need a reset. Tomorrow will be better." 

See, that's completely different from saying, "I can't handle this much time with my kid and I'm ready to send them off to a public babysitter." 

Okay, okay, that's a bit harsh. But do you see my point?

Like I said, I had never payed attention nor saw it from that perspective until recently. 

No, not all parents are maliciously thinking this. 

I know some who are. Seriously. 

So here are my reasons for why I'M glad my kids are heading back to school. 

1) They get to see old friends and make new ones. 

They certainly don't get to do much of that here with their parents. 

2) They'll have wonderful, influential teachers. 

I wouldn't have thought about this before, but Sawyer's teachers last year changed my mind. 

They will always be his first teachers and I couldn't be happier that they are his first memories of school. 

3) I get one-on-one time with Sofia. 

During the summer I get to spend a lot of quality time with the kids. Before Sawyer went into preschool, I had a lot of special time with just him. We danced, learned, and made memories of just us. It was nice. I'll get to do that with Sofia now. 

4) Those "I missed you" after school hugs are the best. I don't get those in the summer. 

5) I get to hear stories from school. 

There is something about my child sharing stories without me asking that warms my heart. 

6) "Mom! Guess what I learned today!"

He learns things at school that I never would have thought to teach him... And he loves to share. 

7) I get to shop!

Clothes, shoes, backpacks, oh my!

It's neat to see how Sawyer's personality and tastes change from one year to the next. 

8) I love seeing Sawyer become more independent every year. 

He's pretty fearless, but there's always apprehension on a parents part when you just go and drop them off all day without you. 

Seeing him just charge ahead reassures me we're doing something right. 

I'm a little misty-eyed right now, so I'll wrap this post up. 

Our school is back in session on the 19th so we're going to soak up the rest of Summer as much as possible. 

What are some of your favorite back-to-school moment?

I Challenge Myself to: Listen

Brutal honesty, I have a loud mouth. 

Okay, okay, we all know this.

 I'm a blogger, we have a lot of thoughts floating around in there that absolutely MUST be spoken. 

Okay, I guess you don't have to be a blogger for that to happen, but we must be extra talkative since we make a living doing this. 

Where does the problem lie with talking about everything that may be in my head for even a nano-second? 

Well, my dears, when you're busy talking, when do you get the chance to listen?

Point-in-case:

My husband and I have been going through a really, really awkward transition in our marriage. 

The kids are getting older, I'm about to start going back to school, he's got military goals he's aiming for... We're all on different pages right now. 

Everything is new, so we're slowly feeling things out. 

I've been doing the stay-at-home mom thing for so long and have been so diligent in it, that I just realized in the last few weeks (with Josh's blunt help) that I have thrown my husband into the same category as the kids. 

I didn't even trust him to take Sofia to the nursery by himself at church. 

I mean, what was I expecting? 

Would they get lost in a closet only to be transported to Narnia?

Somewhere along the way, I had subconsciously decided he was a drooling, cranky, indecisive two year old who must be corrected at all times. 

So where does over-sharing fit in?

I have been openly talking with (at) Josh about what I thought were all the problems in our marriage. 

Of course I came out looking pretty after using him as stepping stones through the mud. 

I would get frustrated when he would just shut down and not talk with me. 

The silence between one sentence to the next was excruciating. 

I couldn't figure out why it was so hard for him to just say what was on his daggum mind. 

Then tonight, it just hit me, when In the last 8 years has he gotten to share without repercussion? 

NEVER. 

I have a habit of saying, "I didn't act wrong. I was only reacting to how you made me feel."

Yeah, you can't really do that for an entire lifetime. 

So, tonight I am challenging myself to listen. 

Just listen and not speak unless it's encouraging and kind. 

It sounds easy to do, but Lord knows my lips will be bloody from biting them. 

Cause you know, I know EVERYTHING and I MUST share it. 

Wish me luck and send us prayers. 

Has your family ever gone through a tough transition? 

Have you ever had to sit back and let go of the control? 

The fork in the road cuts like a knife

I've had some of you kindly remind me that I haven't posted in a good while.

Yes, this is true.

I've been busy because it's summer and- can I be honest?- I've been sort of... going crazy I suppose?

I kind of wish I had about two weeks in a log cabin, tucked away in the pine trees at the top of a mountain, where I heard no noise other than snow falling.

That may be just enough time to figure out what on Earth is going on with me.

If it is even me that's the instigator.

You see, I have a bad habit of blaming myself for everything that has ever gone/ will go wrong in my life.

I have no problem saying, "Oh, yeah. I did this. I acted this way. I'm sorry. I'll change."

Here's the thing.

Sometimes... sometimes I get tired of being the one who usually does the changing... or admits wrong doings... or talks about feelings... or sees that there is a relationship at a fork in the road...

It's exhausting.

I rarely get to a point where I just want to say,
"I can't deal with this right now. Just leave me alone."

I am there right now.

I figure it's time for me to just shut my mouth and my brain up, and let others do the mental heavy lifting for a bit.

I'm still plenty willing to have a dialogue with people, I just don't want to instigate it any longer.

At least not until my mental vacation is over.

Who knows what will happen.

Life is an adventure like that I suppose.

Wish me luck and say a prayer.

Here we go in 3...2...

Parenting Advice: 5 & Under

Open letter of advice to parents:

Prepare yourself ahead of time:

You WILL be "that" parent at the grocery store, soccer game, family reunion at least ONCE in the next five years. Kids are kids and sometimes you can't discipline them using your typical creative ways (so you can save their sweet little hearts the hurt) so you become that heavy-breathing dragon in five seconds flat when your kid acts up for fear of being labeled the "lazy mom/ dad." (We all know one)

Your house will no longer look like Better Homes and Gardens magazine cover after the first year. That first year lulls you into a false sense of security. There are some messes, but it's nothing you can't handle.
Then, one morning, your precious angel wakes up and can sass, climb, open childproof locks, and will ingest anything they can get their dirty, jelly covered hands on.
All "pretties" will be locked away for the next 4 years.
Your beautiful, fluffy carpet will be stained and flattened.
You will go through at least one vacuum or steam cleaner every other year.
You'll be so proud that all the crap is picked up out of the floor that you will forget all about that deep cleaning crap that must be done.
Oops. 

Your child will not look picture perfect longer than 15 minutes tops.
Your friend will drop by for a surprise visit and your child will run to the door in only a diaper and will have questionable content all over their face. You're too exhausted to explain that after going through 3 outfits already and having cleaned their face every 10 minutes on the dot for the last two hours, you simply gave up.
You aren't going anywhere, so clothes are optional, and all grime accumulated after 1 pm can be taken care of with a bath before bed. 

You accept whatever judgement may be passed on you and vow to try harder tomorrow.

Jewelry, makeup, perfume, shampoo, and other boring-to-adults items will soon become the most important and fascinating thing your child has ever laid their eyes upon. No matter how "baby-proofed" you think your items are, those sneaky little toddlers are FAR smarter than we are. It WILL be found and hidden/lost/eaten/painted with/etc.
You'll be safer renting a security deposit box at a bank than keep anything of value to you in your home. They're worse (and just as messy) as a burglar. 

If you're contemplating getting a tattoo to commemorate the wonderful birth of your child, I suggest getting black outlines of whatever picture you choose. Tricking your kids into "coloring" your tattoos with WASHABLE (Made that mistake once) markers is much easier this way and it feels. so. good. (If you didn't know about this trick, then you're welcome.)

You will spend hundreds of dollars in that first year on toys that will never really be played with by anyone except your husband and you.
Come on. Babies just lay there unless they're pooping or crying. You spent the money and SOMEONE has to play with it. It's the best way of not judging yourself for still wanting to stare at bright lights and guess what's behind the door in the book. 

At the end of the day, you will look at your sleeping child and regret/ question every single decision that you made in raising them that day. The guilt at times will consume you, but remember this mantra, "No matter how bad today was, you can always try harder tomorrow." That's it. It won't change what happened today, but you can stop yourself from making the same mistakes tomorrow.

If none of this applies to your child, wait to judge me when you have more than one.

And finally,  at some point you will look back at your baby shower and cringe when realizing it's a party consisting of your closest family and friends giving you gifts and basically saying, "Yay! You had sex!"

There is no light at the end of the tunnel... And that's okay

If you've read any of my posts since December, you've seen my journey with my mom. If you haven't, go back and read them if you want this post to make any sense. 

I have been in an absolute pit of hopelessness and despair over the predicament my sister and I have been in over my mom's living situation. We're out of money to put her in a facility. If she lives with us, we have to live with our childhood bully and she will wreck our kids the same way she wrecked us. If she lives alone, we'll have to worry all the time about if she's okay. 

Do I have a solution? Nope. Sure don't. 

I've said it over and over again; I love my mom even though she doesn't deserve it, but I love my children more. I can't put them in harms way and that's exactly what I would be doing of she came back here. 

After speaking with my friends last night, I was  able to let go of the guilt. I may be a bad daughter (in some people's eyes), but I'm a loving mother who wants to give her children the best chance at life that I can. If that means I'm a bad daughter, so be it. 

Sawyer (my five year old) had a meltdown of epic proportions the other day. I asked him what was worrying his heart. He told me, "Mom, I don't want you to become a grandma." I answered with, " But being a grandma is a great thing! There's nothing wrong with it." He replied, " But when you turn into a grandma, you turn mean like Nonny, and Nonny scares me."

*cue tears and heartbreak*

That was it for me. She CAN'T come back. My children's hearts are so open and so fresh. I can't have them worrying about safety or have grown up worries like that. 

So, here I sit. Unknowing what will happen to mom. To put her in a nursing home for 3 months and 25 days ( the penalty period) it will cost $15,000. Holy cow.

I have felt very magenta lately. That's a Golden Girls reference. Blanche uses it to describe her mish-mash of feelings. I describe it as when you're feeling every emotion possible. None of them make sense, yet, they all make sense. It's not a happy feeling. 

I have discussed my feelings and despair over this situation, but not to the extent that I want to. My mom blamed her mother and her childhood on why she was messed up as an adult. She has never taken responsibility for anything she has done or any way she has acted. It was my sister's and my fault our dads left. It was our fault we had no money. It was our fault she was a hoarder. It was our fault if there was nothing to eat in the house. It was our fault we had no hot water. It was our fault we had no heat. It was our fault we had no kitchen appliances. It was our fault she had depression. It was our fault that we didn't raise ourselves right. It was our fault she had no friends. It was my fault she got fired. 

Obviously, none of those things were our fault. We were children. 

I have carried guilt for those things listed above up until last year. Really, I believed I was responsible for those things. 

I refuse to feel that way. 

I felt if I discussed my childhood openly and honestly and admitted the negative, I would be acting just like her. 

What my friends helped me realize yesterday, was that it was okay to talk about it. I'm going through a healing process, and if I stitch up the wound too quickly and ignore the healing process, I won't heal properly yet again. 

I'm not embarrassed of my childhood anymore. I wasn't the one who did anything wrong. Don't get me wrong. I admit to the stupid things I have done, the poor decisions I have made. I was growing up, learning as I went. No one is perfect. 

What has given me hope and has made me decide it was okay to talk about things without being like my mom, is that even though I had a suck childhood, I learned from mistakes made by both myself and my mom, and grew from them. 

I grew from mistakes- THAT'S the difference between us. I do not dwell. I do not place blame where it isn't deserved. 

It's freeing to hear that despite our background, my sister and I grew into pretty amazing people. 

I was saying last night that I like to find hope and lessons during the hard times. I was having trouble finding one in this.  

BUT, I found one. 

I love who I am. Conceited? Maybe a little. But I'm okay with that. 

A flower has bloomed in the middle of a barren wasteland. 

It may take time, but you can grow something beautiful out of nothing. 

I have a beautiful soul despite it being damaged. 

And That's a little incredible. 

Mother's Day Post: Part Two

This Is my second installment of my Mother's Day posts. The first touched in the women of my past. This one is more light-hearted and fun (y'all are thinking, "Thank God!" I'm sure). This  post is for those ladies who inspire me today. I'm one of those women who grabs beauty and inspiration from anywhere. Luckily, I don't have to look too far. 

My friend Jerian:

I met Jerian as a senior when we worked together at Arby's. We clicked instantly and have been friends ever since. We are very similar, although I'm a homebody and she likes to get out and live life. She has a son and a daughter, so I'm able to get lots of advice from her. She is really one of those supermoms that you hear about. Her kiddos are well behaved, her home is organized and clean, she makes sure everyone has what they need. Without her, her family would simply fall apart. We don't see each other often, and only speak once every couple of months, yet she's one of the first people I call when there's big news. When we do get together or call one another, don't expect to see me for hours. That's my Jerian time! 

I love you, doll! You are one of the most important women i've ever met and you are simply ah-mazing! Love, peck. 

My cousin Amanda:

Growing up, I always thought of her as more of a big sister. We was tight, yo! I admired her and watched everything she did. I wanted to mimic her because she was just that awesome. She is one of the most hilarious people I have ever met. Get some glasses of wine in us and we're on the floor rolling. Nothing is off limits in our conversations and if she has a question, she doesn't sugar coat it. 

Why does she inspire me as an adult? She is rock solid. Her two girls have Cystic Fibrosis. If you don't know what that is, please google it and educate yourself. It's hard on the girls, and it's difficult for parents to watch their kids go through the hospital stays, the breathing treatments, and praying for a cure. 

Amanda has gone through this process with as much grace as one could. She answers strangers questions, she answers the girls questions and worries. She has managed to make the girls understand they can do everything and anything they want to, that they are on the same playing field as everyone else. That's a damn good mom if you ask me!

This woman is a rock! Even when she's down, she manages to stay positive and she exudes happiness everywhere she goes. It's simply incredible. I love you, Mandy-Pandy. 

My friend Crystal:

This is a fairly new friendship, yet it feels like we've been friends for lifetimes. The similarities between us are almost creepy, Just ask our husbands. Since we're so similar, I feel like I can tell her anything and she can instantly relate. She's a working mom, yet manages to keep a home like a stay-at-home mom would. Don't ask me how she does it. Must be magic or something. Haha! I'm excited to see where this friendship leads. I have a feeling it's going to take us to some interesting places. 

My cousin Sarah:

My family must have been decided to come to fruition by God when he was having a really good day because we're pretty rad. As a child, I went to visit my northern relatives for a week. I had never been that far from home and I was scared. I spent the night with Sarah and her family for one of those nights. She was so welcoming and excited that I was there. She took care of me and that was the only night I wasn't scared on that trip. She has grown into a nurturing, kind woman, with a strong streak of sass. Anytime I'm going through something hard, she is the first to remind me to pray. One time in particular, she told me to put on some red lipstick and charge ahead. Those weren't her exact words, but that's how I took it and that's exactly what I do. It's almost like Violet and her ribbon from The  Series of Unfortunate  Events. I slap the lipstick on and feel like I can take the world on. She is the kind of mom who takes charge and fights for what's right for her kids. It's the ultimate mother's love. I love you, Sarah. Remember your lipstick, girl. 

My sister-in-law, Rachel: 

She's a crunchy mama. She's one of those women I call just to vent and can get calm advice from. I don't think I've ever heard her yell... Ever... And I've seen her mad. I have tried to mimic her gentleness, but I quickly learned that's just not me. However, I have learned from her that the right words make a difference regardless of volume. She was the one who introduced me to the holistic world of medicines, food, and cleaning products.  Obviously, I took that and ran with it. I just love this woman! She's so good at picking apart problems until you get to the core of what's really wrong. She prays for us without us even asking. As a child, she had to take on the parenting role as the oldest of 7 children. So, Rachel, I thank you for what you have done for me, but I mostly thank you for looking out for and raising Josh. That's a tall order for a young girl. I would hate to think of what would have happened if you hadn't been there for them. I love you. 

My friend Wendy:

True story, I have never met Wendy in person! Do you guys remember my blog about Christians turning me from God? In the end I said what turned me towards God were women who lived the life and walked the walk instead of just throwing scripture at you and bolting. Wendy is one of those women. She has actually coined the phrase "Jesus-juking" for those scripture throwers. She is my sis Rachel's best friend. I added her on Facebook because I saw her comments on Rachel's page and just thought she was hilarious! Wendy homeschools her 6 children, manages the home, manages finances, cleans, shops, gardens, blogs, all while keeping her sanity. She has inspired me to get fit and eat right. I'm almost convinced she has a secret time stopping watch, because I have no idea how she manages to squeeze in everything that she can accomplish in one day. Truly an inspiring woman!

My sis-in-law Belle:

Yet another one of those time stopping watch owners! Belle came into my life when I was pregnant with Sawyer. Over the years, we have become so close that I consider her one of those in my inner circle of people in my life. She is one of those moms who balances perfectly on that fine line of letting her daughter find who she really is while protecting her at the same time. She thinks outside of the box on so many subjects, and is open minded enough that we can talk about those touchy subjects without me feeling like I have to hold anything back. 

She doesn't just have a green thumb, her whole body is green. She can grow anything and she has an amazing blog called Belle of Dirt where she talks about her plants and projects among other things. I just can't describe how rad she is and how much I love her. I just can't. I'm so lucky to have her in my life. 

Of course there are other women who influence me everyday. There are simply too many to mention all of them. 

Happy Mother's Day, ladies!