it’s not what i thought it was

Tim and I went back and read through a bunch of my old blogs….man I was a know nothing punk kid! Legit what in the world? No words…I mean I guess it’s all a process but I really thought I was something, huh?

I know better now. I have no idea what I’m doing and I have no problem admitting that. 

Kids will do that to you. Bring you to your breaking point and then a second later make you laugh. You realize that nothing is really as big of a deal as you thought. Life really isn’t that serious and those things I thought were super important? Like OMG I need to match and I have to have makeup on always and if I’m going to send out a letter you better be damn well sure that stamp is 100% straight (sorry Mase…all those wedding RSVP envelopes you spent hours on…now that I think about it, as hell bent as I was on making sure you made sure the stamps were perfect becauussse…..they were coming right back to me? I mean really, self. Did I even care about the placement of the stamps? No. No I did not.)

All those things…are they really soooooooooooooooo serious??

No.

They’re not.

And when I read back through some of the things that mortified me?

Hysterical.

All the things I thought I was going to be and do after having Kellan??

Bwahahahahahhahahaha

None of it happened. Not a one.

Also? Having kids means F makeup and cute outfits. Did I shower? Are my clothes clean? Double check? 

Then we are having ourselves an excellent day.

So, back to whatever I was saying….oh! …I’m realizing now that wisdom is really learning to be comfortable with your “plans” never working out. Wisdom is letting go. Not allowing silly, trivial things to ruin a day. Being okay with  being present in the moment instead of trying to plan the next one. Saying what you think instead of being worried about what someone might think of what you have to say.

Wisdom.

It’s not what I thought it meant when I was a punk kid. It is not knowing everything.

It’s realizing that you know nothing.

I mean of course we all know stuff. That isn’t the point of wisdom. It’s more than that. A wise person…they understand. I don’t think I’m far enough in my wiseness to properly explain…

Anyhow. What I have realized is important are family and friends. We are sorely lacking in that department.

Sorely lacking.

So much family drama has left that circle really small. I keep having dreams of reconciliation – probably because I know how much everyone is missing.

I purposely have no spoken to or allowed my dad into my life for….probably a little over 7 years? We didn’t even give him our address when we moved. There are a myriad of reasons…but it boils down to how I was treated growing up and his life choices and me not wanting that kind of influence on any children Tim and I had. Not during the formative years.

…so he got my address over Christmas because I had to send one of my brother’s Christmas gifts there and I didn’t really think about our address being on the box.

Guess I should have known better.

One that it would be there and two that’d he’d find it.

He sent me a birthday card. 

First one in years.

I was just like….welp. Here we go again.

Part of me feels like I should respond? But the other part of me doesn’t want to open any doors or windows or cracks of any kind.

Then the wisdom comes in my brain. Not that it’s telling me I should be 100% on board with reconciling, but it does say that I should clear the air. Say what I mean and be honest. Whether or not he agrees or cares or does anything about it has nothing to do with me. I can’t change anyone, nor should I try. I should just be honest and then let things fall where they may.

I feel like that is what Tim and I both need to do with our respective family issues.

Clear the air.

Be honest.

And then whatever happens…happens. I really do not think we will be any better or worse off than we are now. 

It will just be as it should. Whatever that means.

Wisdom tells me that 

Let go. 

Say what you mean.

Be present with the ones you love.

I’m totally rambling and need to just stop because where was I even going with this?

I have no idea. I’m wise enough to admit that.

(See how I kind of went full circle? Maybe 3/4 circle?)

(I crack myself up sometimes)

ode to arkansas 

I’m not even going to lie. When we first moved here from Denver (I KNOW), I hated it. I couldn’t wait to leave. I counted the days until Tim’s company would move us starting the day we got to this godforsaken place. It was ridiculously hot and there was nothing here and the grocery store sucked eggs and had moldy produce and I HATED IT ALL.

The days kept going by and the new position for Tim never came after the promised year….year and a half….here we are at two and a half years and still. nothing. Oh, there have been interviews. Even final ones. Yet not a single one has panned out. Not a one.

We were both over it. The emotional letdown from having one rejection after another after another was too much. Those opportunities weren’t meant to be but WHY???????

Sometime last summer, we were in the neighborhood walking and talking with Kellan and I brought up something a friend from Colorado said to me as I was lamenting over our situation. She said, “maybe you haven’t moved because you have to find what’s good about it all first.”She was right. We had been saying how much we loved our neighborhood. It’s the best neighborhood we have ever lived in. We don’t really have any friends in it, but everyone is nice, it’s an older neighborhood with big lots, every single house is different, and it has great running roads. They just added a park at one end and our house is amazing. Built like a tank. Huge backyard and has gorgeous windows that let in so much light. The sunsets from the backyard in the winter are incredible. I still despise summer…so we won’t go there…but we realized there are a lot of good things about where we physically live.

Then, Kellan and I spent two months in LA in August and September. It was a huge culture shock, especially for Kellan. Everyone is too busy, in too much of a hurry, and too important to give anyone else – especially a four year old – the time of day.

Kellan was almost in tears one morning when he kept trying to talk to our server at a restaurant and she never spoke a single word to us. Zero. Not one. When I finally was able to tell her that Kellan wanted to say something, she mumbled something as she walked away about being short staffed and busy and was gone. Kellan just looked at me like…why is she being like this??

I didn’t have a good answer other than that is the way people are there because that’s how the culture is…and that’s what people are used to and expect. It’s normal to them.

(Granted, we did run into people here and there who would stop and talk with Kellan, so it’s not everyone in LA…but the vast majority…they all need to just take a second and breathe)

Well, what’s normal to Kellan is the complete opposite. What’s normal is anyone and everyone stopping in the middle of what they’re doing to notice and talk with Kellan. A few days before Christmas, we were in a packed Bath & Body Works to pick up a gift. Kellan had just visited with santa and was SO EXCITED about it. He wanted to tell everyone. As we were waiting in line, a woman was rushing out and I had to tell Kellan to move so she could get by…I mean when there’s only one mall in the entire city, packed means basically walk to wall people and everyone has to squeeze around everyone else.

Anyway, so as this woman is inching her way around Kellan as fast as she can, he looks at her and says, “I just saw santa!”

Now, had we been in LA…his comment would have fallen on deaf ears. She could have pretended she didn’t hear him over the ambient noise and Christmas music.

But not here.

Not here.

That woman, who was obviously in a hurry and had no time for anyone…that woman stopped dead in her tracks, turned around, and responded. Not only did she respond, she inquired. She had a conversation. She took time out of her day to make a child feel special.

She didn’t stop because she felt obligated or because she thought she’d get the mean mom, “I can’t believe you’re so rude to a kid” eyes.

She did it because she genuinely wanted to.

And that’s how a majority of people are here. They stop. They are never too busy. They understand that a child’s question deserves just as much attention as an adult’s.

The checkout person – Jo Ann – at our grocery store? She knows Kellan by name. She calls him the “movie star” and asks where he is if he’s not with me. Same with a handful of Target employees. I have had them ask me if it’s okay to give Kellan a special treat. They ask himhow he is and give him high fives.

The entire staff at a restaurant know us and will come talk with Kellan at our table when we are there. It’s probably because Kellan walked around the whole restaurant one day, introducing himself to everyone from the hosts to the manager to the people working behind the bar. But…they remembered him. They didn’t just see him as “some kid.”

Kellan has an entire cheering squad at swimming lessons. Every single one is probably over 70, save one guy who does therapy in the same pool he has lessons in…but they all help him when he’s struggling or scared. They tell him he did a great job or how he’s improving so much (and wow has he…but that post is for another time). 

Just the other day, Kellan was having a reeeaaallllly tough day. Tears and the whole nine yards. He didn’t want to “dive” in (kneeling at the edge and kind of falling in like a dive) and swim to his instructor. He can and he usually has no issue, but he’s four and sometimes things are hard even when he’s done them before.

Well, the therapy guy starts talking with him – because he’s seen Kellan swim and knows he can do it – and then out of nowhere says he will race him to the middle of the pool. His therapy person swam out to where Kellan’s instructor was and the therapy guy and Kellan swam next to each other all the way to the middle of the pool while they were cheered on by the instructors.

And therapy guy turned Kellan’s entire lesson around with that small gesture. He even made sure he told him goodbye before we left.

I have example after example of people in this town going out of their way to make a kid feel special.

I have never lived anywhere like this. The way everyone stops and is never too busy…it is truly heartwarming. It isn’t easy to find a place like this. It’s a wonderful way for Kellan to learn how to interact with people. Without phones in faces and half distracted conversations. It’s fully engaging and 100% genuine.

Had we come here and left right away…or had we not decided to try and find the good in this place…I am not sure if we would have ever opened our eyes to the people here. They are wonderful. They have taught us all how we should pause. Life is lived in little moments every day. And we are blessed with those moments here every single day.

Never in a million years would I have given Arkansas credit for anything other than being a dumb old hick town.

But I was wrong.

Very wrong.

And not one person here has rubbed that in my face. 

Instead, they taught me with their kindness and genuiness and desire to treat people, young and old, with love and respect.

I’m humbled by the people here. And I’m so glad Kellan has learned such important life lessons…how to be human. To never be too busy to stop and talk with someone, even if we ARE busy. 

Because you should never be too busy to be kind. To have a conversation. To brighten someone’s day.

We stop.

We talk.

We smile and say goodbye while we are still facing each other and bid them a nice day.

We live the little moments that are the formative moments in the lives of little children.

Arkansas gets that.

And now…we do too.

goooodbyeeeee junk

So, there’s this book making the rounds called ‘The Life Changing Magic of Tidying Up.’ Maybe you’ve heard of it, maybe not, but the basic premise is if any of the “stuff” you have  in your house doesn’t bring you joy (or serve some actual, daily or at least more than once every few years, functional purpose), it goes. Get rid of it. There is no need.

My friend gave me the book ooooohhhhhh I don’t know. A year or so ago? She read it, followed it, and now has one cutting board and two measuring cups in her whole kitchen. There will not be ten different measuring spoons in her household. Nooooooo way. Not having it. But, she was like, “It is so nice to get rid of all the STUFF.”

And I agreed with her. Because I am over all the STUFF collecting in our house. There is too much. It is overwhelming. I cannot handle it anymore.

About ooooohhhhhh I don’t know…a year ago, I told Tim we should do the same thing and he started hesitate-stuttering all, “But sometimes we use that. We might need this. You never know when it’ll come in handy.”

Yada yada yada and so nothing happened.

You guys.

We literally own a chair that NO ONE IS ALLOWED TO SIT ON because it’s too old and fragile.

It collects dust.

It’s a dust collector and a Tim hat stand and sometimes a clothes pile-up-on-er.

(Some of you may say, well, that chair absolutely serves a purpose! Look at all of those functional operations if performs!)

(But honestly people. We do not need another THING to hold more THINGS when those THINGS should really be put somewhere else…like the closet where the clothes and hats live)

The other…probably month by this point…I stood in the garage all, “I need another tote for this stuff…”

And then as I was standing there, it hit me and I was just like…ooooookay….if we are having to buy more totes to put more THINGS in because there are entirely too many THINGS floating around, there is a serious problem, here. Bordering on ridiculous.

So, suffice it to say I’ve been wanting to get rid of the stuff for quite some time now. I’ve just been waiting on the other half to get on board, and we all know nothing happens until it is their idea.

I mean it went something like this, out of the clear blue sky one Saturday morning:

Tim: I AM SO TIRED OF ALL OF THIS STUFF. IT HAS TO GO.

I used to go crazy over things like that all, “Um hello? I’ve been saying this for how long? And you think this is a new idea like some amazing lightbulb just went off in your head that has never been mentioned before? OMG. Are you serious right now?

But now?

Me: Yes! You’re right! Let’s do this!

Because I’m getting my way, after all….albeit months later…but we’ll just call it a win and move forward. I’ve learned a lot about being married and what you need to do to keep the peace and to also get what you want done. And when that delayed lightbulb goes off, you just roll with it, ladies.

We spent that entire weekend going through the garage and donating or shredding or recycling or putting items into a garage sale pile. After awhile we were both like, “WHY? Why in the world do we even have college notebooks and binders from however many years ago? Are we ever going to reference any of this? Can we even read and understand our own notes? Have we even opened these binders since the day before the final exam of whatever class?”

No, no we have not. We never will.

It brings no joy and serves no purpose other than to make us crazy.

AWAY IT GOES.

Tim was all, “I just want a conveyor belt to put it all on so it disappears and we don’t have to deal with it.”

Unfortunately, dear husband, the “dealing with it” is part of the process.

So, for this entire year, we are going to go through the entire house and attic. Every box and tote and drawer. We are going to ignore our sentimental side that wanted to keep a sticker from high school or a champagne glass from a college dance. We both like to keep sentimental things…but at this point the practical side is taking over and the type A personalities that cannot handle the clutter is behind the wheel because we are both. going. crazy.
Goodbye stuff.

Hellllllooooooooo freedom!

 

 

 

 

 

 

protecting the gag order

The more I revisit my blog, the more I’m all, “I want to write about this! And that! And what just happened!”

And obviously I’m on a self imposed gag order…annnnd I realize that is probably not the best choice of words considering the current state of politics…but yah. And I’m not even going to go there. There was no voting in that direction in this household is all I’m saying. None. Zero. Never.

Anyhow, I may have to start password protecting some posts with life’s current activities because there are so many neat things happening! It took me awhile to get back to the point where I actually think in my brain, “Wow, I really love my life.”

But I’m there again. Finally. Things aren’t perfect and there are still some pretty significant unresolved issues, but on the whole, our house is happy again.

I know I went totally silent a few years ago…and to make an extremely long story short, it’s because things did not go “as planned” surrounding baby bista. They went in a direction no one anticipated, and it totally changed our lives. Put us all on a path we never imagined. A path we had no clue how to navigate.

But, we are on that path now, we have been on it, struggled down it, we have finally figured out how to walk it, and now life is fun and exciting again. I like to share those experiences and I am also realizing that I like to go back and re-read about all the funny (or otherwise) things that happened that I would have forever forgotten about had I not written them down.

So, I don’t know how password protecting works but I’ll figure it out. Technology is leaving me behind these days. There is no time to sit down and figure it out and it no longer comes intuitively to me like it once did. I don’t know what happens to your brain as you get older, but I definitely and wholeheartedly empathize with anyone’s grandma trying to learn “the computer.”

it’s not broken, just unmeasured

I guess I should have started a cooking blog or something.

Well, let me clarify:  one of those ones where all the things that aren’t supposed to happen…happen. I’m not someone you should ever take lessons from when it comes to the kitchen and events that are logically expected to occur there without incident  (exhibit a, b…I’m sure there are more). Things go very unplanned and off course and not measured in my kitchen. 

Granted that’s not always a bad thing.

“How much XYZ spices did you put in here? It’s really good!”

I have no idea?

Annnnnd there goes another amazing recipe unrealized and never to be exactly replicated because I don’t measure. I mean I guess I am pretty okay at cooking things. I can whip up dinner no problem these days.

Really it’s the baking where things go wrong.

Probably because I don’t measure. Damn that baking powder blowing up my cookies to the size of muffin tops or damn the whatever it is that happens when they end up so flat the chocolate chips are like giant mountains over a prairie terrain.

Chemistry. Mocks me every time. 

But measuring….measuring is such. a. pain. It means I have to actually get those little spoons out and find the right one and then two different things need the same amount but now that particular sized spoon is dirty and those spoons really are the worst dish ever to wash..save maybe cookie sheets because I’ll be damned if I somehow don’t turn the pan the wrong way and water either gets all over me or all over the counter.

I’m all about less dishes. Save the water. Avoid a mess. Whatever. Just no measuring. I guesstimate. Eyeball it. That pile I poured looks like abooouuut tablespoon. We’re good. Moving on.

Also about those spoons I don’t even like? I think we have five different sets. It’s probably so I didn’t have to wash a set in the middle of a project. But then that means there are multiple sets to man handle later and so really nobody wins.

And oh the irony….we BOTH still prefer to use the original set.

Anyway, so funny enough, the other day we were making tacos and I had taken out all of the spices and was putting them in the pan with the ground turkey (none of that packaged seasoning stuff here…making your own is so much better!) and I looked at Tim and said, “I don’t measure, just so you know.”

He just kind of nodded his head all Oh-I-know-and-there-is-no-sense-in-explaining-the-reasons-why-we-measure-because-it-falls-on-deaf-ears-I’ve-learned-to-pick-my-battles-and-this-is-one-I’ll-never-win-I’ll-be-over-here-saving-my-sanity-and-preparing-myself-to-choke-it-down-thankyouverymuch.

I continued about my extremely scientific ways, i.e. Eyeballing, and no one really says anything more about it until we sit down to eat. 

And then it happens. 

After Tim takes a bite, he is all, totally unprompted, “These are honestly the best tacos ever. The flavor of the meat is AH-MAZING.

Excellent to hear, dear husband.

She Who Does Not Measure will just be over here, doing what she does, damn all the spoons.

change is…well it really *should* be simple. 

Marriage is a pain in the ass. Honestly. What other arrangement challenges you more than marriage? Mutually. Individually. Mentally. Emotionally. Every way.

I’m not saying this is bad. I’m saying no one really warns you about all of this personal growth you’re going to have to endure…suffer through. Argue about. Bicker. Nag. Complain. Lament.

We fight change so hard. Why?

Is it really so bad to change?

No. No it’s not.

But we drag. it. out. We resist and try to come up with allllllllllll the reasons why they’re wrong and you’re right.

Who really cares though? Why do we care so much? It’s like changing – or evolving – a part of yourself that isn’t really that commendable in the first place…something you wanted to change anyway…it’s like if our significant other calls us out on it, we dig in our heels and decide they are the ones with the problem.

I mean really. Come on. At the end of the day, if you are a kinder, more well rounded person, isn’t that a win for everybody?

I’m super guilty of this. Suuuuuuper guilty. I’m not ashamed or afraid to admit it. Well, admitting it to the person who called me out, aka Tim, that’s probably never going to be easy, but I’m trying to put on my brave pants and just do it. 

In the heat of the moment, I may have plenty of words to defend myself, but deep down it’s really just a facade. Of course when I have a minute to reflect I’ll be all, “Yup. That’s me and that’s definitely not A+ behavior. Really more like C- and I don’t do C-.”

I think being more aware of my resistance and admitting to it, be it right then or three weeks later, is a step in the shiny happy person direction. I’m not perfect and I know that I do plenty that isn’t star quality marriage material. I may not be able to totally wipe the slate but I can at least make concerted efforts to have the other half of the union happy and feeling good about the Status of Us instead of sometimes feeling like it’s us against each other.

All of this reflection came from a major purge over the weekend. We donated so many books…seven boxes of books…and along with all of books were all of our college binders and notes. Among some of my notes I found this “life plan” list I made. On this list included things I wanted in a person I married. 

That freaking list was freaking long. Two pages of college ruled paper long.

It had everything from being romantic to making me laugh to being “brutally honest” and being randomly spontaneous and liking sports and outdoor stuff. It had it all. Where I found the time to think up all of that…I have no idea.

I read the list to Tim to ask him if he thought he fit the various things I wrote down. By the end he was (joking) like,”Welp. I’m at about 50%…sooooo yah. There’s that.”

Then he asked me to answer the same things for myself. If I thought I did any of the things I was desiring of someone else. And you’d think since I wanted those things, then I should also reciprocate, right? It’s only fair.

I looked right at him and said (in a semi-joking way), “I don’t do any of these. I’m not a nice person, remember?”

But the truth of it is that I rarely do any of the things on my own damn list. I do and am some of them, but on the whole…not so much. I’m pretty short tempered and get annoyed easily and as he put it once, “a real peach.” 

And he didn’t mean above sweet one if you catch my drift.

Even though I could list a myriad of reasons why, the truth is exactly what I said to him layer on:

Regardless of how I’m feeling, there’s no excuse for being mean.

And I’m right.

(See what I did there? I can’t even with myself…I’m a mess….and cracking up…)

dusting me off

Wow okay soooooooooooo

Hi. 

I looked back and realized I had not written anything here since I think March 2015.

That’s a really long time. And my life today is absolutely zero like it was back then. Back then it was uncomplicated (compared to now). It was easy. It was pretty happy. Simple. It was a lot of things that it hasn’t been for a long time and that it still isn’t.
But, that’s not the point really. 

Point is, I came across this post I wrote three years ago today. I read it and I realized I haven’t become that shiny happy person at all. If anything I have gone backward due to life being life and throwing multiple, very difficult and painful, giant balls at me and my family in 2015. I won’t even call them curve balls because these balls legit hit me straight on in the gut and face and really just everywhere. 
There was no curving. 

Only hitting.

So, it’s been a long road just to get back to even ground. To dig out of the hole I was buried in. But, I’ve come to realize that *not* writing over the last almost two years hasn’t been helping. I mean, I write about life. I share about my life…and then 2015 happened where I couldn’t write about life at all…for various reasons that unfortunately still hold true to this day. There are so many things that have happened…both good and bad, wonderful and devastating…and I have had to keep them all to myself and a very, very small group of people. 

It’s really no fun. 

At all. 

Some people have mentioned I should start an anonymous blog…but for whatever reason, posting things as a person with no name is 100% not me. I have no interest in that.

One day I will share all the things that have happened…but not today…today my point, since I’m obviously scatterbrained at the moment, is that I need to try to become the shiny happy person I wrote about years ago, even though doing that feels harder now than it was back then. It probably isn’t, it’s really just a mindset and teaching my brain how to be present in the moment…listening to hear versus listening to respond…all that mumbo jumbo that’s actually true. That’s what I need to do…

I have also realized that I really miss writing and need to start again. 

Hence this post.
You’re so very welcome.

I know you’re thrilled.

Even though it’s completely and ridiculously vague.

It’s still a post though. Give a girl some credit.


this is where you ask those burning questions

Enter your email address to follow booshy and receive notifications of new posts by email.

Join 1,412 other followers

OR follow booshy with feed burner

booshy tweets!

my past…it happened

clever girls

stealing is not nice