On Learning to Not Put My Foot In My Mouth

I used to be a huge gossip.  This was way back in my high school days. But, you know what? I learned gossip hurts. I've been hurt and I've hurt others. And I just hate that icky feeling of knowing I shared something that wasn't mine to share. Why do we do it? To feel in the know? To act superior to others because other's challenges build us up? Wow, that's awesome...sense the sarcasm. 

One hard lesson I have learned over and over is my opinions on whatever in your life, or whoever's life, don't really matter. Not even don't really matter. They flat out don't matter. Did you hear that? MY OPINIONS DON'T MATTER. Why should I care how someone else spends their time? Or their money? Or what they eat? Or what they do or don't allow their children to do? If something works for my family, great! It doesn't mean it works for others. And if I don't want other people's opinions, then I shouldn't give mine. 

But I also HATE it when people ask for my opinion, but don't really want it. If you know we are opposites, why ask? Especially when you don't really want it and really are just looking for a fight. I am working on putting up boundaries in this area of my life. Just because someone asks my opinion doesn't mean I have to give it. Imagine that. Now learning to graciously not give my opinion is a whole other story. Because, often times, people push if you refuse to instantly build them up when they are fishing for your opinion. But, I am learning, keeping my mouth shut speaks volumes without me having to. 

That being said, I want SELECTIVE people to speak into my life. Just as I would hope to be able to speak into the lives of selective people as well. These people I care about so deeply that giving them my (well thought out) thoughts and opinions, no matter how hurtful, is important to me. Now, when I say hurtful, I don't mean in the way I say things, I mean in the message. So often, for all of us, the truth stings at least a little bit. Because, let's be honest, people speaking into your life is generally about something you need to grow in and GROWTH ALWAYS HURTS.

I really am working on opening my mouth less and less. Having to deal less and less with the "why did I say that?!" thoughts that plague me for hours after I said something stupid to someone. As I get older, and less flexible, putting my foot in my mouth becomes more and more of a challenge to deal with ;) So I am thinking practicing self restraint with what comes out of my mouth is a much better idea. 

And, on a side note, teaching kids to control their mouths. Wow, that is quite the job! What they can and can't say in different situations. Learning not to be brutally honest with everyone they see. It's all so difficult. Learn from my mistakes children, learn from my mistakes. If only it worked that way. 

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Known by our love

What I'm about to talk about is something very close to my heart. And like all closely held beliefs, it is one filled with thought and emotion. It is something I have thought long and hard about over the years.

Let me start with a little background about me and where my beliefs came from...after all, all of us are products (or reactions) of our environment. I was born into a pastor's family and raised in the church. I would consider my childhood a great one, filled with many life defining memories. As a teenager, my dad's job within his denomination changed and he became "a pastor to the pastors". Then, after college, I went to work for the same denomination as my dad. By my mid 20's, I found myself second guessing everything my childhood taught me about the church, about christians. I had been exposed to so many double lives. And the double standards so many had about drove me crazy. I felt about done with the church, but not done with Jesus. It was a very strange place to find myself  for a girl that was literally raised within the walls of the church. 

I was burnt out on church when we moved to Scotland. I actually consider our time at our church in Aberdeen one of great healing for me. From the first time we set foot in that church, everyone was genuinely welcoming, nice and incorporating. And that's how they were with every single person. That time really helped remind me what it means to be like Jesus. That we should incorporate others and not separate. That we should open our homes and churches, not create barriers. 

Unfortunately, my experience of inclusion hasn't been one many in mainstream American christianity have gone through. Mainstream christianity today in America is defined by what we don't believe in, or don't agree with. It's defined by exclusion. It's defined by hate. It's defined by us persecuting others. Isn't that ironic? The church has become known for the very things is should be against? I get that every church isn't out doing crazy things like the Westboro Baptist Church, but we do love to stand against certain causes/sins/walks of life much more angrily and hostile than we do towards others. 

By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you love one another.  

John 13:35

We as a church don't even have the loving one another part down. We love watching an overly inflated preacher fail. Gossip and backstabbing are just normal parts of the church. Instead of helping everyone, many churches now only help those they deem worthy. Jesus must look at us and wonder where we got so far off track. 

But the fruit of the spirit is love, joy, peace, patience, kindness, goodness, faithfulness, gentleness and self control. Against such things there is no law. 

Galatians 5:22-23

We, as followers of Christ, should be oozing the fruit of the spirit. Now, do we always get it right? Certainly not. But this is what we should be striving toward instead of taking mantras like "love the sinner, hate the sin" and making them part of our core values as a church. Which, how does one love and hate the same thing anyway? I even thought of it in the context of us not being able to love ourselves when we hate our belly/thighs/hair/nose/etc. How then would we ever be able to love another person yet HATE something they are doing? Hate is such a strong word. 

The Merriam-Webster dictionary had a couple definitions of hate that are quite eye opening. "Intense hostility and aversion usually deriving from fear, anger or a sense of injury." Or there's this one, "extreme dislike or disgust." Neither of those definitions go hand in hand with love, do they? And when did Christ call us to do something other than love others? I'm finding it hard to find where we are told to stand in hate toward people's sins...but not our own, of course, because the church is great at deciding who we will and won't forgive or accept in with open arms. 

You hypocrite, first take the plank out of your own eye, then you will see clearly to remove the speck our of your brother's eye. 

Matthew 7:5

I'm not claiming I get it right all the time, not even close. I certainly mess up. I am a sinner, saved by grace. But I do try to come in love. I try to put myself in the other person's shoes. I try to stand up for injustice. I remind myself that Jesus loves to give people second chances. And third. And fourth. And fifth. My beliefs are never a reason to cut someone out of my life. They aren't a reason to turn my back on someone. In fact, my beliefs should have just the opposite effect on me. 

I get that I am over simplifying a hugely complicated issue. Anything with humans and feelings and emotions involved is complicated. But I do know love wins every time. And I also know that my belief in Jesus Christ and my decision to walk in his image should never, never, never be a reason for division between me and someone else. 

Please know that I am aware there are legitimate reasons that we have to sever relationships with people. I get that. We should never allow physical abuse and emotional abuse to go on. Please don't think I am saying that. What I am saying is that as Christians, we should not allow our beliefs to get in the way of loving and accepting another person just because their beliefs are different than ours. 

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A Few of My Favorite Things

In honor of my birthday, I thought I would share with you a few of my favorite things...all contained in one picture.

Plaid. I really like plaid. My kids don't really like being dressed in it, but since I get to pick out what I wear, I wear it a lot.

Flannel. I wear flannel a lot in the winter too. It's so soft and cozy. Kind of like wearing jammies. Which, I have flannel pjs too. They have cupcakes on them and my kids call them my hospital pjs because they remember me wearing them in the hospital when I had Callum.

Gnomes. I once saw a house that had hundreds of gnomes all over their front yard. #lifegoals. I once had a gnome stolen off my front porch and returned a week later. I was hoping it would of been returned with pictures of it traveling the world or something, but nothing. It just reappeared. Since that gnome is from Scotland and sentimental to me, I now have it in my living room and keep other gnomes on my porch.

Coffee. There's coffee in that gnome mug. Now you know why I'm smiling so big at that cup of coffee. I love me some coffee. #coffeeislife

I could talk about the lockers in the background too, if you would like. I love them so much. They were the biggest pain in the butt ever to move. Like horribly. Usually my husband goes along with all my ideas, but I think he thought the lockers were more trouble than they were worth. But I love them.

There you have it. I do have other favorite things, like my family, thrifting, bright colors, music I can sing along to, taking pictures, taco bell. But I'll stop here for today.

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Because...

Because sometimes you get dressed in something other than a flannel shirt (hey, flannel shirts are my jam!) and go get yourself some flowers at the most adorable flower stand ever. 

Someone complemented me on my collection of flannel shirts the other day. It make me both smile and laugh. I seriously love flannel shirts. They are just so cozy and still count as wearing real clothes. I have quite the collection. At least 10. No joke. And, as anyone that sees me all winter knows, I literally wear them every day. It has gotten to the point that when I don't wear one, I usually get complemented on my outfit by people that see me everyday. I think it's their subtle way of telling me to stop with the flannel shirts. But I will never stop. They are my true love. 

Also, a little real life hack for you. I don't iron my clothes. I hate ironing. This shirt I am wearing, the collar gets messed up every time I wash it. I stopped wearing it because I didn't want to iron the collar. Enter my genius idea. I tried my hair straightener on the collar and it totally WORKED! I was pretty dang excited. Because, it's the little things, right?!

But back to the flower stand. If you are anywhere in the Modesto area, you NEED to check out Wild Blooms Farm in Ripon. It's the most adorable side of the road flower stand. The stand is right in front of the flower fields, so you can see all the beautiful blooms coming up behind it as well. If you don't live in the area, just check out their instagram. All those beautiful flowers will definitely make you smile. 

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The Tide is Shifting

There is something about motherhood. It feels like every time you get your footing, things change again. I look back at the past almost seven years of my life and think of all the change, all the upheaval, it's just crazy. 

We had just moved to Aberdeen when I had Connor. I threw every ounce of my being into the small group at our new church that we started going to when Connor was less than a week old. It paid off big time. I made some amazing friends. They were all so different and helped me in different ways. But one in particular, one with three kids, helped me the most. She got me out of the house, both with Connor and without. She watched Connor so Ian and I could go on dates. She was amazing. Just what I needed in that new mothering season, when I had no family around. 

Then we moved home. That was interesting. Everyone and everything I thought I knew about Modesto had changed in the almost ten years of being gone. I had to make new friends. It happened. Slowly. It really wasn't until about two years in that I found my tribe. Things were stable and humming along there for a while. 

Then kids start school. The carefree, schedule less days of motherhood were behind us. But there was still plenty of fun to be had. Lots of it after school or late into the night, hanging out after the kids got to bed. 

Now I find things changing once again and honestly feel a bit lost. It started after I had Callum. Then lump on to it Connor now being in school all day. And all day school really makes for no time to get together with older kids. And Callum is a brilliant napper, making me want to hang around at home for those. And, on top of that, the fabulous moms I got to know through preschool have moved on from there and first grade isn't conducive to hanging out with the other class moms like kindergarten. I just feel a little lost in this new season. 

I know I will find my footing. I always do. But I feel like I am in a bit of a mourning period for the awesomeness that the last few years has been with some amazing friends in my life. And now, I find myself doing something rather difficult for introverts like myself, I am putting myself out there. Dating other moms, so to speak. 

It's a new season. 

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The Ever Changing Role of Motherhood

Motherhood is one of those interesting things. It keeps you on your toes. Just when you think you know what you are doing, everything changes.

It starts out slow. Diapers, nursing, rocking. Soon solid food is involved. Then crawling and walking. Then getting into things you don't want them to get into. I remember being in that phase at home with both kids where we didn't have anything going on. One of my friends told me to enjoy it because it would pass all too quickly. And pass it has. Now I realize how precious it was. I won't ever have that phase with this new baby. From the beginning it will be go, go, going along with the rest of us and all our commitments.

This whole five days a week kindergarten thing has thrown me for a bit of a loop. And just when I was trying to wrap my head around it, another parent at school said, "And here's the next 13 years of our lives." So true. It just doesn't stop. After half day kindergarten begins school all the freaking day long. My little boy will be away from me for so long!!! I know, I'm drama.

But seriously, everything is always changing. I remember being oh-so-freaked-out with the idea of leaving Connor at preschool with strangers. People I didn't know! Sure they ended up being ladies I totally loved, but in the beginning I was leaving my baby with strangers. And I survived.

Now I find myself getting used to a new normal. One that will feel so normal in the not so distant future. One that, before I know it or even want it to happen, will be past and no longer the norm. So I guess as this fleeting roll of mothering young children rushes by me, I only have one piece of advice for myself. In fact, it's a piece of advice for myself that I've had for y-e-a-r-s.

Carpe diem.

Seize the day.

Jessica, enjoy all those drop offs and pick ups. Enjoy the fact that Connor still grabs for your hand when he leaves school. Love that he will tell you about his new friends and will talk about his teacher. This little kid thing will be gone before you know it. And I know you love it. So enjoy it.

Pardon me while I go cry in a corner. What?! I do have crazy pregnancy hormones pumping through my system! And my little boy is growing up!!!

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Sunglasses…and a mini hair rant

My parents surprised me when I was 13 and let me get contacts a couple weeks before I started my 8th grade year. Having worn glasses for a couple years, I was extremely excited and never looked back. In fact, I didn't even have a spare pair of glasses should I need them. In college I decided to get some glasses, thinking I would wear them when the mood struck. Let's just say the mood only seemed to strike when I over wore a pair of contacts and got pink eye. Gross, I know, but the truth isn't pretty. Then almost a year and half ago, I decided to try out glasses again. Once again I decided I would get them to wear when the mood struck. Well, the mood struck and never seemed to leave. Really, it had to do with me dealing with an annoying dry eye issue and my contacts only made it worse. I've toyed with lasik, but can never talk my pansy self into it…awake during surgery?! what if they mess up and I go blind?! what if I blink during the procedure?!

Since I have been consistently wearing my glasses for a while now, I decided to take the plunge and get myself some prescription sunglasses. It's so nice to have sunglasses again. Though I must admit, it is a little annoying having to make sure I switch to my other glasses before getting out of the car. Otherwise I will (and have) find myself wondering around a store in sunglasses because I freaking can't see at all without glasses. It's a small price to pay, I guess.

On a completely unrelated topic, I've hit the point in my pregnancy where I am annoyed with my hair. It's become super curly and just flops over when I try to wear it up (or do I call it spiked? or a faux hawk? you know what I mean.) So I have started pinning the front to the side and just smoothing it down, though it still curls in the back on the bottom and that bugs me. I am trying hard to not switch hairstyles to something ridiculous while I am pregnant. I've been there before and it wasn't pretty. I've just got to stick it out. But it's really bugging this (obviously hormonal) pregnant lady. Big problem in life, I know. But seriously, got any suggestions to help me out?!

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Why I Said Goodbye to Starbucks

My love affair with coffee started at a young age. I can remember my grandma giving me coffee in her sunroom in the morning when I would sit in there and play card games with her. I remember playing tea at a friends house. While everyone else wanted to drink juice in their cups, I would beg for coffee and her mom would always concede. I remember my dad taking me to see "a coffee shop in a bookstore!" And I remember when the first Starbucks opened in my city when I was 14. Everyone loved it. Sure, most my friends were getting frappuccinos while I got a cappuccino. But I loved coffee and never went down the super sweet coffee road. 

In high school, hanging out at Starbucks was basically a daily occurrence. In college, both Ian and I worked at Starbucks. After college, the love continued. And my love only grew during my time working at Starbucks in Scotland. After having Isla, my love of the Starbucks drive thru was born. I needed to get out of the house but didn't want to unload two kids from the car. And after being up half the night, the Starbucks drive thru was just the place to go. 

Then my kids started getting older. I started treating Connor to his own drink. And that's where the drama began. More often than not, stores wanted to argue with me about the cost of a kids beverage. It really was workers on some weird power trip, but I got tired of it. I got tired of ordering a $1.40 drink for my four year old and having to argue with the person ringing me up why I shouldn't have to pay $3…when it was clearly on their menu for $1.40!!! I actually can't even tell you how many times the manager got involved and how many times I wrote Starbucks in frustration about the matter. Because of that, I basically stopped going to Starbucks altogether. It wasn't worth it for me to argue about the price of a child's beverage each time I went there. 

I get that Starbucks is a money making corporation. I have never had a problem with that. But over the past few years, they seem to care more about churning out overly sweet beverages at an alarmingly fast rate than they do about their customers. I can't tell you how many times my cup of coffee I ordered was only luke warm. And given my "inside knowledge" it appears that more often than not, they are serving old coffee…fresh brewed coffee is supposed to be dumped and rebrewed every hour. Now, my husband probably wishes I had given up on Starbucks and their "subpar" coffee years ago. But it never bothered me. It was convenient. Even though they are everywhere and convenient, they are no longer worth it to me. So, with sadness in my heart, I shut the door on a huge chapter in my life and kiss Starbucks goodbye. I wish them and their zillion frappuccino flavors all the best. 

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My Journey with Secondary Infertility

I've written many variations of this post over the past few years. But never once could I bring myself to hit that publish button, with letting it all out there. There were many reasons for this. Believe it or not, I am actually a pretty private person and don't share much with people. Why? Mostly because I don't want to be judged or gossiped about in the areas of my life that are the most tender and important to me. Plus, I felt I should be grateful for what I have, after all, I already have two children. And, I kept thinking that I would look like a poser if I put it all out there then got pregnant the next month. But now is the time to share…part of the story anyway.

After having Connor, Ian and I discussed how many kids we wanted and came up with four. In my head, these children would be perfectly spaced apart in two year increments. With Connor and Isla, that obviously happened. This time, not so much. When Isla was about a year old, I felt more ready to tackle another child. Ian had the desire too and it just seemed like the right time. The problem was, I never got my period back after having Isla. Most people I would tell that to would tell me what a blessing it was. Sure, I loved not having it, but I wanted a baby. And no period meant no ovulation, and no ovulation meant no pregnancy. So, even though I desperately wanted to have another child, I felt like I needed to act as this "blessing" of no period was just that, a blessing, and not the curse as I saw it.

Now, let me not gloss over the fact that I thought all this was happening because I was extended nursing Isla. So, I regularly had these fights in my head feeling like I was to blame for not being able to get pregnant again, yet at the same time, not wanting to stop nursing Isla because she didn't seem ready.

Finally, two years after Isla was born, during a routine physical, I admitted to my obgyn that I never got my period back. I mentioned that I was still nursing. My doctor was shocked that I had yet to have a period, even though I was still nursing, and sent me for labs. She was very encouraging and told me that no matter what, they could get me pregnant somehow. What began was months of hormone taking and lab follow ups with nothing happening. In the middle of all this, I decided to stop nursing Isla, on the off chance that really was the problem. Well, it turns out it wasn't.

About a year ago, I was referred to an endocrinologist. I still remember that appointment. I thought I was going in to discuss my fertility options. Instead I was faced with hormone problems that affect a lot more than my fertility - think early menopause, osteoporosis, heart problems. I left that appointment feeling stupid for not speaking up sooner. After all, this is my health we are talking about.

About a week later, I found myself staring at the inside of an MRI machine. I laid down on the table, they put a blanket on me for comfort, put what they referred to as a "bird cage" on my head, then slowly I was moved into the machine. As the guy left the room and I was stuck, I began to cry. The thing is, I rarely ever cry. But at that moment, stuck in that stupid machines, it felt like everything came to a head. I was laying there with only my thoughts. I was crying and couldn't even move to wipe my own tears. Talk about a vulnerable moment. Anyway, to keep this story from getting out of hand, I was put on a medication to fix my hormone imbalance. Basically, it a medication I will have to take until it truly is time for me to go into menopause. But, I do not take it while pregnant.

This medication came with all sorts of scary side effects. But I took it. And, thankfully, the scary side effects never came. Which, I must say is a miracle. After reading in forums online, my dosage is much higher than most and most people taking it have side effects. After being on the medication for three months, my period came. Then two months later, I started ovulating again. And a few months after that, this little miracle inside of me came to be.

It's been a long road. One that has been very mental for me. Not a day went by that I didn't think about it. There was a constant pit in the bottom of my stomach. The pit that life, my family, isn't turning out the way I wanted. Dealing with the question of "When will you have another one?" over and over. And depending on how I answered that question, it could get awkward. Some responded with "I'm sorry".  Others have cried with me. Some have encouraged me. Other's have told me I should be grateful for what I have. Still, other's told me not to give up on the desire God placed in my heart. I was actually getting really close to being okay with the fact that I may never see the life I imagined. A month before I got pregnant, I actually went through and purged some of the baby stuff I kept. It was a little process in moving on from that dream and accepting my reality.

Obviously now I am pregnant. I don't know if the dream of four kids will ever happen…or even if we will really want another one once the baby arrives. But what I do know is I feel incredibly blessed to be given the opportunity to have another child. I also feel incredibly blessed for modern medicine and the fact that one little pill can correct my hormone imbalances and keep me healthy. This has been a hard journey. It's been a lonely journey. But it is nice to be where I am today…15 weeks pregnant with a little "apple" (that's about the size of the baby now).

Though I'm not glad to have walked through this journey, I am glad for the compassion I have learned toward others. That quote you see all over the internet really is true. "Be kind, for everyone you meet is fighting a hard battle."

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Type A

So, neither Ian or I have type a personalities. Case in point, our power went out two weeks ago and we haven't reset the clock in our bedroom since. That is normally the alarm clock Ian uses to get up in the morning, but he just switched to his phone. So, two weeks later, that little clock sits in my room, blinking away, apparently not driving either one of us insane because neither one of us has done anything about it.

I find people and their personality traits fascinating. Both Ian and I have type a characteristics (which I am sure everyone has at least a couple), but neither one of us would be labeled as such…definitely not me, that's for sure. Though I do bite my nails, and I never realized that was seen as a type a trait. Interesting.

 

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On Shooting in Manual

 

I seem to have friends asking me for tips on using their cameras and I usually look at them dumbfounded. Probably because  it took me almost 10 years to FINALLY shoot in manual. Or maybe because I realize it is a learning process that a manual or class can't fully teach you…only using your camera can do that one. But now that I have full control of my camera, I love the results {most of the time}.

Ian was actually the reason we bought our first dslr. And he was the reason we bought our second one too. A little over a year after we bought our second dslr, we had Connor. I preferred my ole point and shoot camera to the dlsr. It was smaller and in general I ended up with much better pictures using the point and shoot than the dslr. Of course, that's because I didn't know how to use it!!! Well, my point and shoot eventually died, so I started using the dslr. I really didn't like it. It was big and it was hard to use.

SLOWLY, I started learning things. My first life changer was taking it out of auto and shooting in program mode. Then I learned about focal points. This actually was probably the biggest game changer for me in terms of picture quality. Next I learned about white balance. And, well, that really helped out the bath pictures I took of the kids. All along I would toy with manual mode, then get overwhelmed and switch it back to program. More and more I would play. Sometimes I would completely ruin pictures and it would totally and completely bum me out. This was mostly due to me not checking my settings and just taking pictures, then later realizing the settings were all wrong and I ruined all my pictures. Now days I am programed to look at the first couple pictures I take to make sure they are ok. In fact, I do that far more often than when I first pull my camera out…especially at times like when I took these pictures, when we were chasing the sun.

Honestly, years ago I couldn't have imagined taking pictures in low light without a flash would even work. Sure, part of it was the camera, our first dslr was like one of the originals…no joke. But also a lot of it was just not having the knowledge. I enjoy taking pictures now. I love my camera. It's like my third child. I don't mind carting it around. I love picking it up and playing with it and seeing how it will respond. Every day we get to know each other better and better and I love that.


Also, I would like to say, if you get overwhelmed with tutorials, know you are not alone. I did so much better reading about photography from other bloggers than I did about watching videos or reading tips from pros. It was always too much information and over my head. So, don't give up. Keep searching and trying and eventually you will master it.

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Middle Sister

I feel like another good title would have been "What does the wine you drink say about you?"


I am the middle sister in my family. Sure, I am sandwiched in by brothers, but I am still the middle sister. A couple years ago, Ian's sister Carli (who is also a middle sister surrounded by brothers) asked me what I wanted for Christmas. I replied "wine" and a tradition was born. Ever since, I always get a bottle of middle sister wine with a fun name. This year, my brother's girlfriend Brook (also a middle sister), got be a bottle as well. I couldn't help but laugh at the contrast to the two names and how they really do describe me in each family.

Carli got me mischief maker and Brook got me goodie two-shoes.

I always said growing up that I didn't have to do much to impress my parents. My brothers were off getting into mischief and I wasn't to the same degree, so I was the good one…trust me, I got into plenty of trouble, but never to the degree of my brothers, so there you have it. Now put that supposed goodie two-shoes in Ian's family and I totally am NOT the good one. I am the one that likes to push everyones buttons. I am the pot stirrer. I am the one always pushing the limits. I am the mischief maker. Mind you, I am the same way with my family, but am seen as the goodie two-shoes.

Perspective. It's an interesting thing, right?

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Bucket List

I like the idea of a bucket list. It isn't because I think I am close to the end of my life and have a bunch of things I want to do. Rather, it's because I like lists. And I like doing/experiencing stuff. Oh, and I like crossing stuff off my lists; it feels like an accomplishment. Plus, I think it's so easy to get caught up on the things in our life that are out of our control. But things on the bucket list, those are things I can control, things that I can make happen.

I hope to add to my bucket list as the years go on, as I hear about more things to do and see. I don't want to run out of things on my bucket list, so I'd like to keep it growing...you see, I never want to finish my bucket list. I never want to stop exploring. Really, it's a fun excuse for me to dream and come up with things I want to do...you know, so in case Ian decides to do a surprise vacation, he has ideas!

Here's what I've got so far:

Walk/bike across the Bay Bridge

Go kaiking

Walk on the High Line in NYC

Ride in a helicopter

Visit Treasure Island

Go to North Carolina

Take the kids to Sea World

Go to Australia

Take the kids snorkeling

Watch a sunrise

Own a Balenciaga purse

Stay on a boat in Amsterdam

Take the kids on the Durango-Silverton Railroad

Own a place in Scotland

Visit New England in the fall

So, tell me, do you enjoy dreaming and making lists of things you would like to see/do/visit/experience/own in your lifetime? It's fun to dream, isn't it?

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An Ode to My Nose Ring

1/3 of my life. ONE THIRD OF MY LIFE! I have had you around for a long time. We got off to a rough start, you and I. My body worked overdrive and covered you (and the stud in you) in skin, on our first night together. I remember the horror upon discovering this the next morning. I also remember being provided numbing medication while they dug that stud out. One would think I would have given up on you then and there. But you and I had come that far, why not stick it out? Over the years, I have decorated you in different ways. There was the lightning bolt, the simple silver stud, the big purple stud, the diamond stud and, as Isla would call it, the "bracelet in you nose". 

I've walked with you for so long, I forget that people see you as something crazy to have. You have been my accessory in business suits and in the delivery room of both my children. You adorned my nose when I graduated college and when we bought our first house. You are like a dear friend and are there for me when I nervously play with you. We've walked a lot of road together, you and I. 

I've wondered before at what point I will get "too old" for a nose ring. And, to be honest, I never thought something like a nose ring would define me, but it kind of does. It tells a story of who I was and who I have become. And I'm not ready to give it up. Maybe I will at some point. But not today. And maybe, just maybe, I will be that grandma rocking the nose ring and people will be able to tell I grew up in the 2000's when that type of thing was "cool". 

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Glasses

It's been 13 years since I last got a pair of glasses, so I thought it was about time I get a new pair. I thought it would be fun to have a pair that I may enjoy wearing in public. I thought the same thing 13 years ago. I ended up only using the glasses when I had pink eye, or ran out of contacts, or scratched my eye. But maybe this time will be different...

When I picked out my glasses, I actually said to the lady, "Show me big '80's style glasses." This was the first of many pairs I tried on. It always seems to be the first of anything that ends up the winner. You know your eyes are bad when they say, "We ordered special lenses so they will fit in the frame." Yeah, my eyes are bad. Worse than anyone else I know. They are -5.5, in case you care. When discussing this with my parents the other day, I decided to try on their glasses. My mom has barely any prescription compared to me. My dad's is a little more than her's. While neither of us were wearing glasses, my dad said "But you can see me now fine, right?" and when I shook my head no, he responded with "Oh honey." Yeah, I am blind. The eye doctor even said, "With eyes as bad as yours, it really is important that you have a good pair of backup glasses." I often wonder what this means for old Jessica, when my eyes are this bad already (and have been this bad since I was a teen).

But back to my glasses. What do you think? I think they are fun and I will definitely wear them more than I wore my 13 year old pair. They definitely don't match everything (like style wise). But since I am a pretty casual gal, I am thinking they go well with most of my stuff.

Does anyone else out there have really bad eyes?

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Strengths & Weaknesses

In my head, I know everyone has weaknesses. But oh-so-often, I only see peoples strengths and only see my weaknesses. I've already put it out there that I never make my bed. Now, here's another one for you. I never do the dishes unless the sink is full.

A couple weeks ago, at my mops group (a mom's group I go to), we made the above sign. I made a comment about how it is perfect for me because, well, I certainly let my dishes pile up. To my surprise, pretty much everyone around me talked about how they literally can't sleep if there are dishes in their sink. Just throwing it out there, I sleep perfectly fine with dishes in the sink, on the counter and on the table. Such talent of mine!

Before you start thinking that my house is always trashed, this isn't true. I do actually work my way through cleaning my house every week. And I have this odd thing about cleaning my kids rooms before they go to bed. But, odds are, if you drop in, you certainly will NEVER find my house looking perfect.

As I went home and set my little sign next to my sink full of dishes, I was feeling a little down about myself. Then I remembered, we all have strengths and we all have weaknesses. We all have 24 hours in a day and we all choose how we spend those days. So, to remind myself that I am not just a horrible slob, I thought I would jot down some of my strengths.

Building legos is my passion. I can (and many times do) spend an hour or more building legos with Connor every day. In fact, playing with the kids is really fun to me. I enjoy reading with them. I enjoy building things with them. I enjoy drinking the coffee they make for me and eating the ice cream cones they serve from their kitchen. If only it was all real. I meal plan and make dinner for us every week night. I do a great job picking up my camera and capturing memories of my kids childhood. I am thrifty and can find a deal on almost anything. And my best strength of all...I'm sarcastic. (You know it's a strength and not a weakness!)

The next time you are feeling down on yourself for not having the same strengths as others, I highly recommend taking the time to remember what YOU are good at.

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The Truth...Embarrasses

Over the weekend we were at a party with a bunch of people we didn't know. Connor zeroed in on this lady with bright red lipstick and proceeded to have this conversation with her:

Connor: Why are your lips red?

Lady: Because I am wearing lipstick. 

Connor: Why?

Lady: Because it makes girls pretty when they wear it.

Connor: My mama never does. 

Lady: I'm sure she does sometimes. 

Connor: Nope. Never. 

And my face then proceeded to turn the color of the lady's lipstick. 

It's not exactly a secret to those that know me that I never wear makeup. And I don't partake in too many girly activities. But after that conversation, then me looking at my feet and seeing this:

my 10 week old pedicure, I feel as if I should up my game a little. I'm not talking about make up all the time or anything. But I should at least paint my toe nails at home. Or, more realistically, at least take off the old, chippy polish after several weeks! 

Are you...

Are you more of a squeeze from the end or a squeeze from the middle type of person? And what do you think that says about you?

Myself, I am more totally a squeeze from wherever makes the toothpaste come out type of gal. I'm never that organized about it. In general I would say this is about how I am about life. I do what needs to be done to get things done and that's about it. And if I have to be, I can be organized. But in general, our desk (and bills/important pictures) looks like I set the kids loose on it. And you know what? Because of automatic bill pay and not having to worry about bills going unpaid, I don't really care that much about it...except when I have company over. Then all of the sudden I wish I was an organized person! Now you get me...I'm a squeeze from the middle type of person. It explains so much, right?

Now again I ask, are you more of a squeeze from the end or a squeeze from the middle type of person? And what do you think that says about you?

Guilty Pleasures

I was at a thing this past weekend and we had to go around the room and say our "guilty pleasure". Before it was even my turn, one of the ladies said "I have pleasures, but I don't feel guilty about them." Bam! Talk about hitting the nail on the head with that one. 

These days I don't have much time or energy for guilty pleasures. And to be honest, I don't even like the term guilty pleasures. If you are feeling guilty about doing it, you probably shouldn't be doing it. Now I know that sounds extreme, but think about someone hiding in the kitchen chowing down on a few too many candy bars. There is nothing good or even funny about that. Indulging in an amazing treat every once in a while, now that's totally fine. But these acceptable (and even normal) things have been relabeled as guilty. Me no likey. 

I have to say, before I had kids (you know, when I had way more time and money) I indulged in way more guilty pleasures. And guess what? I prefer my life now. I really didn't need to fill my head with smut tv anyway. And this is just another sign that I am getting old. 

In the spirit of it all, I thought I would share a few things in my life that I enjoy that you may or may not know:

• Candy cane Hershey's kisses
• Taco Bell
• How I Met Your Mother
• Blogging & reading blogs (I bet you never would have guessed!)
• Wine - though I don't have a glass every night, I sure do enjoy a glass of wine while relaxing after the kids are in bed
• Cheese - there is nothing better than a really good cheese to go along with that glass of wine

So I ask, what are some of your guilty pleasures?

Crazy Much?

This picture has absolutely nothing to do with this post. It's just Isla being her cute self.

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I'm that person that when I have people over I freak out and try to clean every square inch of my house. And when I glance at the random pile of stuff on the top of my refrigerator, I just know my guests are judging me for it. Chill out Jessica! I am also hoping they didn't notice the banana smeared all over the shower curtain, the pile of papers on the mantle and well, I won't even get started on the desk. The desk is definitely a low point in organization for me. But seriously, lighten up Jessica. 

On the bright side, my house is all clean, so no more cleaning for me this week...unless you count the daily stuff.