Several hours ago, I learned something that has blown my mind and rocked my world.  Never in a million years would i have thought that this could be true.  Apparently i've been in a bubble for 20+ years...or at least in a state of denial.  Tonight i learned that there are actually people in the world who HATE Winnie-the-Pooh.  

I could understand "dislike".  Or maybe that particular bear not being someone's favorite...but "hate" was the word my friend used when Pooh came up in casual conversation...and don't act like you've never had a casual conversation about Pooh!  I hate poverty.  I hate animal cruelty.  I hate child abuse.  But hate Winnie-the-Pooh? I can't even.

I've loved many cartoons from my childhood but none have i felt such an affinity for as i do for Pooh Bear.  As a child i found the gang in the hundred acre wood silly & sweet; but as an adult i see so much more.  I see this group of friends, some of them misfits, all with their strengths and weaknesses & quirks.  Frightened little Piglet, OCD Rabbit, free-spirited Tigger, Roo the optimist, gloomy good-hearted Eyeore, and simple-minded yet ridiculously profound Pooh Bear.  All of these various personalities somehow mesh together into the wisest, strongest group of friends...the weaknesses of one so complimentary to the strengths of another.

I probably read way too much into this simple cartoon.  But i can't help but think of all the people that have touched my life over the years.  I've been an adventurous soul for as long as i can remember.  I've left the comfort & familiarity of my "hundred acre wood" many times.  Sometimes my adventures have been on another continents, sometimes across state lines...but every time without fail once i've settled into a new place i've met new, incredible, amazing people.  Some are very different than me.  All of them have their quirks.  And there have even been a few misfits along the way.  But regardless, I've managed to become stronger & wiser because each of them has entered my life.  And i feel so incredibly blessed to call so many of them my true, honest-to-goodness friends.

Maybe i'm biased when it comes to Pooh.  I'll be the first to admit i'm the girl who cannot make it through the Heffalump soundtrack without going through a whole box of kleenex.  The second Carly Simon sings, "i think i feel more like myself when i'm with you" in the Shoulder to Shoulder song i dissolve into a puddle of i-miss-my-friends-who-are-scattered-all-over-the-globe mush.  It's whatever, i guess.  All i know is that friendship has always lightened my load & brightened my skies.  On the gloomiest of days, when the time has come to say goodbye to the people i've cherished, gratitude is always the thing that is left behind in my heart.  Because, in the words of a very famous (and perhaps the wisest) bear who ever 'lived', "it's so much friendlier with two."

I'm having a bit of an identity crisis lately.  Not in the way you may think though.  I'm trying to figure out who ELSE i am...you know....besides Nichole: wife of James, mother of our 4 little Crabblings, homeschool teacher, domestic goddess, unpaid chauffeur, sister, daughter, friend, etc.... It occurred to me several months ago that somewhere in the midst of all these titles and jobs and things and people vying for my attention i've lost touch with some of the things that used to define me.

Take fitness, for example.  I work out off & on these days & i still wear what most would consider a despicable jean size for a lady who has birthed 4 children & has been graduated from high school for almost 20 years.  But skinny doesn't equal healthy.  And these days, i'm not feeling so healthy.  I used to be passionate about being healthy & in lots of ways i still am.  We don't eat out often, eat a (mostly) clean diet that includes a handful of processed foods and a TON of organic fruits & veggies, lean free-range meats, fresh fish (most of which James & the boys caught this summer) & cage free eggs lain only by hens that have been humanely treated....and yet i still don't feel healthy.  On the occasions that  i do make time for a workout i attack it with no where near the same consistency and ferocity that i once did.  I'd be lying if i said this doesn't make me very frustrated & somewhat disappointed in myself.

Most days, I'm exhausted at best; overwhelmed at worst.  The to do list never gets done and when you homeschool you really don't understand what this "me time" is that other women talk about on social media.   Even when the kids are in bed & the dishes are done there's always someone or something that needs your attention....even if that someone squeaking the new toy you bought him at your feet & looking up at you with adorable eyes wondering why you're not sitting on the floor playing with him now that all the little people in the house are asleep.

I'm not looking for a pep talk or a pity party.  I'm not complaining either.  I absolutely love my life, so please don't misunderstand.  What i'm looking for is women (moms in particular) who will stand up and be honest about this kinda stuff.  Whether you're a single mom, stay-at-home mom, working mom, homeschooling mom, or a mom whose kids are grown and gone i think we all struggle with these kinds of feelings from time to time.  I think we all try to figure out who we are in each season of life and that usually depends on the number of people who need us & the depth of their needs.   Face it ladies, some seasons are definitely easier than others and often we don't realize how good we had it & how easy it was until we have moved onto a much more challenging season.  We often feel like we aren't doing enough or being enough for the people who are depending on us when the reality is that they're perfectly content & well taken care of.

As i'm working my way through this current season & my place in it, i want to encourage those of you are struggling, like me, to find out where you rank on your priority list.  I'm not talking about selfishly indulging in self-centered, destructive, or unhealthy patterns of behavior.  I'm simply letting you off the hook of mom-guilt on which you've been hanging & encouraging you to give yourself a breather every once in a while.  As women & as moms i think we tend to give ourselves all the criticism & none of the credit.  If we are doing our best every day, no one can possibly ask us for more.  And by not making our mental, physical, emotional, & spiritual health a priority, it turns out that we are really shortchanging ourselves because we don't make time to breathe & enjoy our lives just as they are; all the while finding time to do the things that feed our souls a little from time to time.  Ladies, i challenge you (& MYSELF) to enjoy a HOT cup of coffee instead of setting it down to go wipe someone's nose & throw the clothes from the washer into the dryer & feed the dog & get the mail & yell at the kid who left the pointy, blue lego on the steps & then coming back an hour later when it's ice cold & guzzling it down anyway.  Take a walk outside without the dog or the kids & breathe in the crisp, cool fall air.  Read a book.  Paint a picture.  Email an old friend.  Lace up those shoes and get your sweat on.  Sip a glass of wine slowly.  Write a blog.  Whatever that small thing it is that you often put on the back burner to take care of those you love.  Love yourself enough to make yourself a priority sometimes, too.

For the past 2 weeks, i've been giving less advice to others taking some of my own (for a change).  I've  managed to make my health a priority by setting goals that will force me to work out and keeping myself accountable by dragging a friend along the torturous road that is sure to pave our next several months.  I'm spending more time with Jesus and less time texting and reading status updates.  & I'm finding my voice in this blog...no matter how big or small my audience may be.

Goodbyes suck.  How's that for honesty?  Truly, they are one of the things that we military wives have a love/hate relationship with.  One would think that we become pros at them after a while, but the truth is we dread them just as much, if not more, than most people.  Every PCS season brings with it its fair share of goodbyes & they never seem to get any easier.

This evening i sat at a table with a bunch of women i've become pretty close with over the past 2 1/2 years.  Some of them i know better than others.  We've laughed a lot, cried quite a bit, & shared lots of stories about our husbands & children & various life experiences. But the purpose of tonight's gathering was a little different than most weeks.  Tonight we gathered to share a meal and say goodbye to a very dear friend who will be leaving us in a few short days.  A thought occurred to me while i was in the midst of these awesome ladies.  My family's time in Alaska is winding down as well and we will be moving in less than a year. So, i've decided to prepare myself for these looming goodbyes a little differently this time around.

Without further ado, i give you my top 3 reasons that saying "hello" sucks and saying "goodbye" is way better:

1.)  Hellos can be awkward.  People are weird.  Some people are easily offended, others not so much. Occasionally I meet a person and we "click" and fall into a natural conversation, but most of the time I don't spend my hello-moments really listening to what the other person is saying because I'm too busy wondering whether or not they're weird and whether or not they like me or, worse yet, if they think I'm the weird one.  By the time i say goodbye, i almost always know who the weird one is.  And if its them, my goodbye is never awkward.

2.)  When I say hello there's a 50/50 chance I may never talk to that person again.  If they are weird, or if they think i'm weird, or there's really no love-connection between us there's a good chance we will never really speak again unless we stumble upon each other accidentally in the grocery store or dentist's office.  But by the time i say goodbye to that person, i almost always know whether or not they will be a forever-friend.

3.)  Hellos never involve tears, hugs, & snot.  Since all the important goodbyes we say usually involve one or all of those 3 essential elements (if you're a girl or a human being with any emotion, that is) i submit that those are precisely what makes goodbyes infinitely better.  Deep feelings are the stuff that make life great. So i figure if i'm bawling, wiping snot, & hugging onto the person for dear life it can only mean that they've touched my life and my soul in a very special way & that i'm a better person for having known them.

In the grand scheme of things, the time we spend saying hello and goodbye to our people really makes up a very small portion of how we spend our lives.  I'm a believer that perspective is a really big, important thing that we often fail to gain when we insist on dwelling on the small moments in life.  When we put our whole energy into focusing on one moment in time, we often overlook the bigger, more beautiful picture that each moment is inevitably part of.  So this time around i'm gonna focus on landscape portrait rather than the puny snapshot.  The portrait that includes all the things i've learned & the ways i've grown & changed as a result of my people that i've come to know and love.  This time around I'm going to try to cherish and savor the goodbyes.  Maybe then the tears, hugs, & snot will feel a little less like an ending and a little more like a celebration of how we've become part of each other's lives and stories.

Learning to Fail

It's day 2 & i've almost failed myself and my friend Sarah and my 4 loyal readers.  Anyone who knows me knows i don't like failing at anything.  ever.  so how is it that it's almost 10pm & i have given about a half of a second of my day to deep thoughts & blog posts?  well, i'll tell you how in 1 word: Vomit.  In less than 24 hours vomit has overtaken my household & my life.

It started off as what i THOUGHT was food poisoning in my 8 year old.  By 2am i was ready to go to the ER with him for fluids, while making a pit stop at a local restaurant to karate chop someone in the adam's apple for doing this to my son.  Good thing i'm a woman of restraint.  because fast forward 7 hours and he's just starting to hold down liquids while i'm holding the hair of my sweet 5 year old daughter & listening to a voice in my head whispering how i had wasted the whole night laying on the couch staring at my 8 year old curled up on the loveseat, waiting to spring into action with his puke bucket, & cursing another human being for something they OBVIOUSLY had nothing to do with.  Nothing beats a little exhaustion mixed with a lot of helplessness & mom guilt, right?

Fast forward another 12 hours and they're all sound asleep in their beds & once again i am cool, calm, & collecting my thoughts.  2 of them have had a horrible 12 hours & i'm sitting in this chair typing & praying that the other 2 don't need buckets of their own between sunset & sunrise.

Being a parent is hard work.  And i'm beginning to suspect that it doesn't get any easier as they get older.  bigger kids will surely bring bigger worries.  today it was vomit, tomorrow it might be friends who are unkind.  Months from now it could be the sadness of saying goodbye to one neighborhood or the uneasiness of trying to "fit in" to another.  And years from now it could be standing in an airport as that same 8 year old that i sat with last night boards a plane as a full-grown man to go be a missionary in Syria & bring hope to the hopeless (lucky me he's announced that this is what he's GOING to do with his life, so i've got plenty of time to "prepare" myself for that moment).

there's only one thing i can think of that can possibly make raising children a completely bearable & worthwhile pursuit.  And that is knowing that these "babies" aren't really mine, anyway.  They've been given to me, entrusted to me for a very short time, by a Father who loves them in infinitely more profound ways than i ever could.  My role is to guide them and lead them toward the specific destiny that He alone has created each of them to fulfill.  I guess i could be a little irritated that i have to do all the "dirty" work in this arrangement of His....quite literally, "dirty", as it were last night! Or i could look at it as a privilege to love these little humans so deeply that i would gladly sacrifice a night of sleep to  rub their backs, sing them songs, or hold their hands and hair just to give them a glimpse of the depth of the love that He & I certainly have for them.

So i guess if i have to choose whether to be grateful or to be irritable, i choose gratitude. Because i can't think of a better thing to be grateful for than the gift of loving these little people and then letting them go & turning them over to Him so He can faithfully finish the work He's already begun in each of their lives.  And i guess if i fail at blogging but succeed at being grateful for the gift that this time with them truly is,  i'm gonna have to learn to be ok with a little failure every once in a while.

words, words, words

            I have a friend.  Her name is Sarah.  She’s a really good writer & she sent me a text yesterday about this blog challenge.  She’s just finishing one she did for October and she encouraged me to join the Cool Kid Club and do this one for November.  So, there you have it.  That’s why I’m doing this.  Because Sarah said I should.  And my husband.  And my mom.  And countless other friends and family members who’ve been telling me for years that I should write more.  Apparently I’m not a fast learner or a good listener.

            Truth be told, I’m not even sure I’m that good of a writer.  There.  I said it.  I’m pretty much….average.  But here’s the deal: I love words.  I am obsessed with language.  In my humbly average opinion, words are one of the greatest gifts God ever blessed us with.  With a simple word, we have the power to make a person feel better & more special & more loved than they’ve ever felt before.  And with a simple word we can tear a person’s soul to shreds.  Words are incredibly wonderful, magical, powerful things.  For better or for worse. 

            So, that’s why I’m doing this.  For the next 30 days I’m gonna write words every day.  I don’t know yet what they’re gonna be about.  Hopefully there will be more happy words than sad ones; more encouraging ones than discouraging.  If my loyal readers (all 3 of them) are really lucky I’ll crack a joke or two & one of them might even be funny.  Mostly I just plan to write about my life, my family, my faith, big things, little things, important things, trivial things…But when it’s all said and done and my 30 days are up, I just hope I’ve written a word or two that spoke love, encouragement, & hope to the heart and soul someone who read it.   Because even an average writer like me is surely capable of that.  

Marriage is....

            Marriage is hard.  It’s complicated, confusing, and sometimes downright messy.  Take mine, for example.  My husband and I are the two most “determined” people that most people have ever met.  And by ‘determined’ I mean stubborn….only with a much more warm-and-fuzzy feeling adjective.  We are two incredibly opinionated, driven, passionate people who are not prone to good communication habits.  We often go from zero to screaming like banshees in the blink of an eye and when one of us has our mind made up about something you’d be better off to try to move one of the Egyptian pyramids with your own bare hands & brute strength than to get us to change our mind.  Truth be told, even though I love Jesus with all my heart and soul & I try desperately to be like Him, I just cannot shake this selfish, stubborn streak that has shaped my personality.  I like my way.  I want my way.  And I often think my way really is better than anyone else’s way could possibly even THINK of being!!  Lord help me, I’m a mess.  And Lord help my husband, he picked me anyway. 

            The very thought of that brings tears to my eyes and a lump in my throat.  Because only the two of us actually know what it’s taken to stay married for the past 14 years when lots of others would’ve called it quits.  The highs have been so very high, and the lows have been lower than I even want to remember.  I guess that’s where God takes our stubborn & uses it for His glory.  Because, that’s always been His plan.  At the end of the day, it’s a beautiful thing to have that ONE person to share it all with.  To have that ONE person that you can be your real, true, emotionally-naked self with.  The one who can often predict your next word before you say it, who knows what you want better than you do sometimes, and the one who has seen you cry the ugly cry and keeps coming back to dry the tears and wipe the snot.  Lots of people throw in the towel when it gets too hard & walk out on their marriages in search of another one who might not be so "stubborn" or "difficult" or "less controlling" or "more understanding".  Maybe it's the skeptic in me that fails to see how that's a good solution.  It seems like an awful lot of effort to go to trying to replace something you already have...even if it does gets a little broken & worn & bruised along the way & even if it does require tremendous time, dedication, & attention-to-detail to make it shiny & beautiful again.  Or maybe it's the just the "determined" part of me that knows how sweet the victories are when you simply refuse to quit on each other.  Praise God that James & I have done our share of victory dances together over the years.  

            Today is our 14^th anniversary.  & 4 years before that we started dating.  That makes 18 years of my life loving a man I met when I was 18 years old.  God knows that loving him has been hard at times.  God also knows that loving me can be downright impossible (just ask any one of my 4 sisters!).  But God knew what He was doing when we went to that coffee shop 18 years ago.  I’m thankful that even though these 2 “determined” people often choose to write their own story (because, let’s face it.  I’m a control freak & James always has to have a plan!), we are ALWAYS willing to let the Lord finish it.  Maybe someday we will change; become more “easy going” & less opinionated and make this life we share a little easier on each other.   But I kinda hope we don’t. I like us just the way we are.  Because what we get to be is living proof that God can take 2 imperfect people and make them absolutely perfect for each other.  And that’s just fine by me.  

Turmoil Brings Perspective...

Wow!  I rock at this blog thing, don't I?  I post something once every 3 months or so...yet I have a whole notepad on my phone of ideas for things to post that seem to keep getting pushed aside and left unsaid & undone.  Such is the life of a military wife who homeschools 4 kids, moved to a new house, & got a puppy, right?  

Well, something happened the other day that was almost immediately blog-worthy.  Never mind that it took me nearly 48 hours to write it down.  I said "almost immediately."  We've already established that I suck at this. The morning/early afternoon went to hell.  (Yes, I said hell.  I say "bad words" sometimes.  And I still love Jesus.  Feel free to judge me.  I'll wait till you get over it...really.) It went to hell in a hand-basket.  It just got ugly.  I had woken up that morning with a plan.  And within 2 hours my plan was unraveling.  The minutes were dragging by...my coffee was ice cold...we got one task accomplished, only to have 10 more that required MY immediate attention.  I was overwhelmed.  Really, I was more than overwhelmed.  I just don't know what the word is to describe that exactly.  So I'll buy an adjective--SUPREMELY overwhelmed.  I was overwhelmed by the self-inflicted amount of responsibility I feel every day to take care of James & our home, to educate our children, to entertain & train a puppy, & somehow find time to take care of myself.  On any given day (& most certainly that particular day) I have a sink full of dishes that are screaming my name, dirty counters, dirty toilets, paperwork that needs my attention, emails to check & send, floors to sweep, a puppy to play with, bills to pay, meals to cook, & school work COMING OUT OF MY EARS!!!  Papers to grade, lessons to plan, & help me Jesus, testing is less than 3 WEEKS AWAY!  And did I mention that I'm worried about my husband who is worried about his career now & post-Air Force?  And he probably had a point when he mentioned I should be making calls & looking into Master's programs so I can be prepared to reenter the work force in a few short years.  (If I knew how to put an emoji after that sentence I would.  The one with the big eyes and the straight mouth.  The one I think would say "Doh!" if it could talk to me. But, alas, I'm "new" at this...considering I only post once every 3 months or so!) Truth be told, in the midst of this personal turmoil all I could think about that sunny school day was "Is there even the slightest chance that I'm gonna make it onto that treadmill sitting in my garage because if I don't get a run in at some point today I might just crack and end up in the mental hospital and that would positively benefit NO ONE?!" 

But then the most insane thing happened to me.  I went from being overwhelmed to overjoyed. In less than 10 minutes.  And I didn't even have PMS.  

You see, while Ella & I were working on her reading lesson, Sophie decided to run downstairs to let the puppy out & give him some playtime. Nate, who struggles to focus his brain on ONE task at a time & see it through to completion in any reasonable amount of time, finished his ENTIRE spelling lesson in 10 minutes IN CURSIVE; which he's only been learning since December! Meanwhile, Jimmy crept into the kitchen on a holy mission to make lunch for all of them. PB & J sandwiches (carefully cut in half for the "littler" ones) with orange slices placed neatly on the edges of the plates, a few pieces of Pirate's Booty, & water bottles with a splash of lemon. 

...And there I found myself...at the bottom of the stairs...counting my blessings. Suddenly humbled by the work I have to do & realizing what wonderful, important work it truly is to do the things I love for the people I love the most.  I was reminded, in that moment, of how awesome the work I do every day really is. Maybe it never all gets done.  So what?  Really?  The truth is the important stuff gets done every day.  The time I spend listening to my children read, fixing healthy snacks, kissing boo boos, snuggling the puppy, & matching James' clean socks...Every day I choose to give the people I love a piece of my soul just because I want to.  And because they deserve it.  They are incredible human beings and I would be lost in a world where I had no one that depended on me and needed me as much as they do.  In those 10 minutes, 4 incredible little humans gave me back some of the joy that I'd almost allowed my own selfishness & anxieties to steal.  I forgot to remember how blessed I am to be insanely in love with a man who makes our crazy life possible and what a joy it is to spend every day teaching 4 impressionable hearts to leave their mark on this world by serving others before they serve themselves.  

So instead of counting assignments left unfinished, or bills left unpaid, or toilets left unscrubbed, I'm counting the one, enormous, SUPREME blessing of having people in my life worth working FOR.  And that, my friends, is something worth blogging about.