Yes, I'm a bragger, most definitely when it comes to my kiddos. I don't think moms can help that. It's gonna happen.
So without further ado ...
I give you my girl performing in her high school's fall show, singing her version of Paramore's, "Let This Go."
To think she wasn't going to audition at all. I forced her hand a bit. But, so glad I did.
She has so much talent. I can't wait to see what God has in store for this girl. She continues to amaze me. (FYI ... I didn't even know she could play guitar well enough to accompany herself. That sneaky snake.)
Although I could talk a lot about them. In my younger days, I was quite a fan ... you know ... posters on the wall ... owned every album ... knew the words to every song ... saw them in concert twice ...
AND there was that one time during that second concert where Jon, Mr. Bon Jovi, himself sang "shot through the heart and you're to blame" to me personally. You know, just everyday kinda stuff.
But, I digress yet again.
The song title really does portray my feelings lately.
When I speak about love though, I speak about the only true love there is and that's all summed up in Jesus. The only perfect love is through Him.
Apart from my younger years, you know them ... 20-25 ... I have always worked in an environment where my role was to ultimately bring people to Jesus. To teach about Him (among other things) and to help create environments that shared His story with people. It's been like that for the past 12 years or so.
Now, I'm not doing that. I'm not teaching. I'm not sharing. I'm not creating. At least not on a regular day-to-day basis.
My sole outreach or should I say, the one and only thing I have to show for Jesus, is me. How I live. What I say. What I do. Who I am.
Scary stuff when you work in close quarters with people every day.
I mean ... let's face it ... you're not gonna believe this but I can't be pleasant 24/7.
Nevertheless, I need to be now more than ever, but I feel like there are moments when I may not give Jesus the best name.
I want to.
More than anything, I want to.
But, I can get frustrated. I can get irritated. And, the list goes on and on.
In the words of Hannah Montana (not Miley Cyrus ... because I would never quote her on this blog), "Everybody makes mistakes. Everybody has bad days."
That goes for Christians and non-Christians alike.
But, some people only know Jesus by what they see in you.
I want to make His name great! I don't want to be a stumbling block for others because I'm having a bad day or a bad attitude.
It's hard, y'all. I wanna be me. I wanna be real. But, sometimes real is not good enough.
So, I second-guess myself. I am very hard on myself. "Did I say this in the right way? Was my facial expression OK? Did I have the right response?" So on and so forth.
This is an adjustment. I'm working on it. God's showing me so much through this move. I'm learning to trust Him more through this change and cling to His promises.
I have entered hibernation-mode, meaning I stay inside and eat. (Obviously, I don't think you understand that since I just explained what hibernation means to you. How insulting.) Running has taken a backseat to the new job and life changes.
Due to the previous bullet point, I have become a little fluffier. I am uncomfortable and poofy.
I will begin my 4th week of good intentions today. Fingers crossed that I remember how to run.
K Belle went from blonde to red-head this week. I'm very pleased, considering her other choice was gray. Yeah ... weird. Who dyes their hair gray? All the women in the world trying to cover their gray hair and mine wanted all of hers gray. I simply do not understand.
Speaking of eating ... We hit The Melting Pot this weekend. I died a little bit after I had the white chocolate creme brulee fondue. I'm thinking this thought ... bear with me ... WHY would God make food so delicious if He didn't want us to eat it? He could've made it taste horrible, right? Skinny for life!
I also finally discovered Trader Joe's Speculous Cookie & Cocoa Swirl ... die again. On hot toast, is the best ... so that it melts just a tad ... die three times.
The dogs ... ugh ... I'm having issues with the both of them. Roxy has found a hole and bolts to it at every moment she gets outside, creating a huge muddy mess on her entire face and feet. THE NERVE! You'd swear she was a stray. Oliver ... is just annoying. He's housebroken UNTIL La Petite Belle leaves her bedroom door open and then it's like a blinking neon sign saying, "POO HERE! POO HERE!" He's weird. Just when I feel like I have no more patience with them ...
La Petite Belle finished volleyball strong, despite it not being a great season for her team. She tried out for soccer, but was disappointed that she didn't make it this year. Taking a year off turns out was not a great idea. Now, she wants to play recreational soccer in the spring. Just when I thought those days were over ...
On a different note (no pun intended), K Belle has a solo in her high school choir's fall show. She didn't audition the first-go-around because she didn't really want to do it, but then after Mama gave her a little push, she auditioned during the follow-ups and got it! So proud and can't wait to hear her. She's playing guitar too. Strange since I didn't even know she could play guitar. Her room is filled with instruments ... keyboard, guitar, bass ... I guess if she gets tired of one, she picks up another.
I got a new (used) car. This week the back of the passenger seat fell off. And, yesterday, the driver's seat side did the same. Imagine my disappointment. Thank God I have a man that can fix such things!
Since my new job, my weeks have been going by so quickly. Hence, my one blog post last week. Y'all ... I'm swamped. No kidding. Every weekend since I've started, I've had things gong on. I haven't been able to get a full week's worth of laundry done yet. I long for some days off soon. Come on, Thanksgiving!
Most of you know I've worked with my husband for the past seven years ... until now.
Yep. Seven years.
Seeing each other every day for seven years!
Many people asked how we could work with each other over the years, being husband and wife. My answer was always about how easy it was and questioned if their spouses were jerks. I just never understood the concept of NOT being able to work with your spouse, the one person you've devoted your life to. Weird.
He was my boss. He was my husband. And, he was good at being both.
We never really had any issues at all. I did cry a couple of times, but, let's face it, that would have occurred with anyone.
He did tend to be a little harder on me than others, on some things, but that was expected because of our relationship. I dealt with it. But, I was such an awesome employee, he didn't have much reason to get upset with me.
Now that we don't see each other every day, I miss him.
I miss him a lot.
There's always a certain point during some part of my day that I have a little ache in my heart.
Yep. Mushy, I know. But, I miss him.
The good news is that when I come home from a long day of work and he comes home from a long day of work, we connect even better now than we did before. Not just as husband and wife, but also as a family (minus the days the girls have their countless number of activities, then it's every man for himself). We spend more time together in the evenings than we did before. We can each talk about work without me saying, "I'm not on the clock or at work now," or "Can you tell me this at work tomorrow?" Now, we both listen.
But, yeah ... I still miss him.
The new job is going pretty well. I'm continuing to learn more than I ever cared to know about real estate and such. That's for darn sure!
So, while I'm liking my new job, there will always be things I miss about my old job. The main one being ... my sweet hubby.
I love you, babe. You were a great boss!
Don't get too excited ... this doesn't mean you can boss me around at home now.
Yes, ... the good old gynecologist's office .... not really a place where you want to have an adventure is it? I think not. I would like my visits to the gynecologist to be pretty uneventful. I'd actually prefer dull.
I just so happen to be visiting my doctor in her new office this week. It was time for the dreaded check-up. Ugh. But, honestly, I'd take this kinda visit any day over a trip to the old dentist. Gynecologist visits are short and the "uncomfortable" part lasts approximately five seconds, 10 tops. In and out in no time (Pun intended. Ha! I kill myself). Dentist visits ... well, you know ... FOR. EVER. And, if you have a cavity ... even longer and painful.
So, on this hoping-for-non-eventful visit, I walk into my doctor's office to find one of my brand-new bosses sitting in the waiting room with his lovely wife. They're expecting a baby very soon. But, I don't think you really want to run into your boss at the gynecologist's office. I mean ... of course, he knows I have a gynecologist and that I have female parts to match my femaleness, but ... he's my boss ... new boss. Up-side was I got to talk to his precious wife. So, I guess that was a good thing!
I was finally called back, where, after I had disrobed, and stepped up on that stupid scale so the nurse could get my weight, she mentioned that she recognized me from church ... "one of the singers that sings on stage."
Not only does this lovely girl know my weight, but she's about to know a whole lot more about me!
She proceeds to ask me all the private, detailed medical history questions they like to ask. I think she may know more about me than my closest friends do.
Soon after, my doctor comes in. It's time for my exam.
Yay. The nurse gets to stand behind the doctor during the exam. Not only does this girl know my weight and full medical history, but now she's seen me naked. Actually, not just naked ... more than naked. She's seen parts beyond naked.
Once the exam was over, I told her that she was now my new BFF since she knew EVERYTHING about me and that I hoped she could look at me in the same way she did before she saw me in all my glory. Well ... I'm not sure "glory" is the right word ... but you get my point.
I have decided I want to know absolutely NO ONE when I go to the gynecologist. NO. ONE. I don't want to see a friend, a relative, much worse, an acquaintance or co-worker. This is my private time, people. I don't need intrusions.
I don't think I did a good job training K Belle in certain life skills, like how to really clean a toilet or the difference between baking soda and baking powder or the latest ... what to put in the dishwasher to clean the dishes ... NOT dishwashing liquid. There was an incident this weekend involving lots of suds, a watery floor, and 4-5 extra cycles run to get these suds out.
She's 16, people. Six. Teen.
Seriously. I think she may be in trouble when she leaves this house in a couple of years.
So, I'm on a mad dash to teach her everything I know about cooking, cleaning, and basic living facts.
So far this weekend I have given her details on how to sweep in corners, scrub all around a toilet, what to put in a dishwasher to clean the dishes and where to put it, and how to clean sinks and counters. In addition, I walked her through the process of making homemade apple crisp.
Despite her non-understanding of the baking soda/baking powder issue, she also lacks measuring skills, which also had to be addressed.
In the end, her apple crisp was outstanding!
You should totally bake it tonight!
10 cups all-purpose apples, peeled, cored and sliced
1 cupwhite sugar
1 tablespoonall-purpose flour
1 teaspoonground cinnamon
1 cupquick-cooking oats
1 cupall-purpose flour
1 cuppacked brown sugar
1/4 teaspoonbaking powder
1/4 teaspoonbaking soda
1/2 cupbutter, melted
Preheat oven to 350 degrees F (175 degree C). Place the sliced apples in a 9x13 inch pan. Mix the white sugar, 1 tablespoon flour and ground cinnamon together, and sprinkle over apples. Pour water evenly over all. Combine the oats, 1 cup flour, brown sugar, baking powder, baking soda and melted butter together. Crumble evenly over the apple mixture.
Bake at 350 degrees F (175 degrees C) for about 45 minutes.
We ate it with yummy vanilla ice cream that we HAD to have so much so we drove to the store in our pajamas. Don't worry. I made K Belle get out and get it. Duh.
I've always thought of myself as a pretty smart person. I mean ... duh. Of course I'm smart. Dare I say highly intelligent. Yes, I dare.
I mean ... I know things. Lots of things.
Beau thinks I'm smart ... um ... er ... except for those times he asks me to count down days and I count the current day as #1 instead of the following day as #1 ... or when he talks to me about cars or computers or phones or any sort of technical thing ... and quite possibly a few political things. But, I get by.
And, if Beau thinks I'm smart, I know I'm smart because he is a genius, you know.
And, I'm sure there are other people that think I'm smart too. They've told me so.
I have been confident in my smarts until this very moment.
My new job is pushing me to care about stuff I never had one lick of sense about before nor did I want to have one lick of sense about.
I'm a pretty good pretender when it comes to whether or not I know what someone's talking about even when I have no clue. So, I just smile and nod and give a thumbs up. But, secretly I remind myself that I need to google such things that I don't understand when I get home.
I do really like my new job though. I like the people and I like the challenge of learning about things like abstracts, title commitments, settlement statements, and other real estate/lawyerey terms. (Yes, I know it's not a word. I mean ... I'm not dumb.)
The reason my blog posts have been sparse is obviously because by the end of the day my brain is on the verge of exploding. I need my time at home to be filled with thoughtless activities like eating trail mix while watching back-to-back episodes of New Girl. The fact that I can even form sentences for this post is a miracle in itself.
I'm hoping and praying that I'm getting smarter by the day and eventually my brain activity will level out and I can be back to my normal, intelligent, jovial, blogging self.