Blossom

I'm not a crazy Oprah fan... I didn't sit home and watch her show when I only had one baby and not much going on. I missed her last show... I think she can be a bit annoying. There are a few things that I do agree with her on... girls do deserve an education too, oral sex is sex, and everyone should work to better him/herself.

I also agree with this quote that she posted on her facebook page (yes, I'm a "fan" of her fb page!):
“What I know for sure is this: You are built not to shrink down to less, but to blossom into more. To be more splendid. To be more extraordinary."  -Oprah

This is something that I have been thinking a lot about. And struggling with.
I often feel as if I "shrink down to less". That I don't allow myself to show my educated self. My "smarts". Like I need to play dumb for some reason. That I'm a silly stay at home mom... who doesn't have an opinion. Or at least an opinion that counts.
I struggle. I struggle with when to blossom. When to hide. When to be splendid. When to shy away. When to be the smallest bit extraordinary. When to be plain.

My focus and my goal this year is to dig deep into this struggle. To try and better understand why I question this. My worth. My splendid-ness. My ability to blossom.

Please hold me accountable.
Please help me.

I keep...

I keep my house decent. Not perfect.
I keep my clothes presentable. Not pressed.
I keep my girls behaved. Not puppets.
I keep my relationships real. Not petty.

Love This.

I Must Admit...

I have to admit something.
The last 48 hours of mothering has caused me to consider getting a job outside of the house.
Hopefully by tomorrow I will be over it... and loving this phase again.
But, today, it is getting on my last nerve.

I kind of miss having a shower every day.
And ironed clothes.
And an office door that closes... and people that knock.
And a bathroom stall... alone.
And a desk that stays organized.
And cute little decorations that don't get their heads broken off.
And coworkers that don't smear poop all over the floor.
And people that clean up after themselves.
And adult conversations.
And meetings where things are accomplished.
And to-do lists that get shorter.
And you hear "thank you" and "well done".
And a paycheck...

But, honestly, I would miss the dirty house.
And loud voices.
And non-stop singing.
And dirty hair.
And sweats.
And decorations with dried glue around the necks.
And being asked how much longer I was going to be locked in the bathroom.
And a sink full of sippy cups.
And having my computer time interrupted to fix a doll's hair or paint toenails.
And maybe even the poopy floor...
Maybe.

Boobs or Books???

Since the doctor frowned upon the boob job, I decided to spend the money on turning our dining room into an office/library. I have had all of my books in boxes in storage since we moved in almost 4 years ago. I am happy to have them back out again...

In the past?

"I try not to live in the past, he thought, but who knows, sometimes the past lives in me." -Taken from Hotel on the Corner of Bitter and Sweet

Move forward.
Live for today.
You can't change the past.
That is yesterday's news.
There is nothing you can do about it now.
Move on.
Forget about it.

Oh, how sometimes I wish that was all true. However, the quote from the book seems to fit my life more.

The past seems to live in me...
The great times and the tough memories.
The highs and the lows.
The struggles and the joys.
The tears of sorrow and the tears of joy.
The days my girls were born and the days the others didn't make it.
The day I was married and the days we fight.
The mornings of sun and afternoons of storms.
The moments of complete love for my kids and the times of total frustration.
The pain and the healing.
The past seems to live in me...

The past makes me.
Creates me.
It is what I am made up of.
It is why I am who I am.
I wouldn't be the woman I am without it.
I certainly wouldn't be the wife and mother I am...
Or the friend.

So maybe it isn't so bad...
to sometimes have the past live in you.

Little House on a Big Hill

I took my girls to a little house on a big hill...
For a break.
For peace and fresh air.
For understanding and a place to pray.
For time to clear my mind and my head.

My amazing friend lives there. 
Our relationship has evolved through the years...
From Spring Break tattoos to deep understanding.
And I wouldn't be where I am today without her influence.
She is the friend who responds with "Prayed for you at dinner. Love you.... Will pray for you more."
When I text her late at night feeling extra desperate.

Her little house on a big hill was just what my heart needed.
Her care and her love.
Her understanding and her ability to challenge.
Her cooking and her wine.
Her fresh air.
And tire swing...

It all did my heart some good.
Thank you, friend.