Blog Title Envy

I love reading other people’s blogs. The stories are interesting, heartwarming, and often touching, but I read them more for inspiration.  There are certain ones I follow for their photography and there are others I read for their choice of words or funny twists.   I always learn something new when I read them.

Lately, I’ve been fascinated with their titles.  Some are straight forward and right in your face, but the ones I love are the ones that grab you by the arm and pull you in.   It’s harder than you think to come up with something catchy and pertinent to your story.  I know, I’ve tried. Perhaps I may have a slight case of Blog Title Envy.

As I browsed through some of my favorite bloggers this morning, I started to see some patterns for titles.   A formula of sorts.  So I’ve decided to try my hand at Titling, or at least that’s what I’m calling it today.  For me, being creative, in whatever way, fuels my soul.  I feel better if I’ve done something creative or crafty during the day.  So I hope you’ll allow me to think aloud for a bit and try my hand at being creative with Titling.

            Fruit + Day of the Week

                        Watermelon Tuesdays

                        Blackberry Sunday

                        Strawberry Saturdays

            Color + A Sound

                        Green Whispers

                        Periwinkle Clapping

                        Spring Green Thunder

            Soft Drink + Number

                        Root Beer 98

                        Jones Soda 24

                        Shasta 16

            Animal + Sport

                        Turkey Tennis

                        Kitty Kickball

                        Parakeet Polo

                       

           

                       

A Red Puddle and a Plastic Bag

You know I’ve been feeling a bit slow lately, but not in a bad way, just in a “enjoy life moment by moment” way.  Well, I’ve kicked it up a notch the last two days and have painted both of the boys’ rooms.  (Pictures to follow once I have the stripes done and all the stuff back on the walls.) I have to admit, it feels really good.  Both love them, which is a plus for me.  They should like them however, they got to pick out the paint colors. 

Little Guy- Grey walls with three two inch stripes around the top 12 inches of the wall in black, lime green and turquoise.  (I know, I said the same thing. His comforter has all those colors in it so it actually will coordinate in the end. At least that’s what I’m telling myself.)

Big Guy-Black and red.  Sounds simple right?   Well, I just had one of my girlfriends paint her son’s accent wall red and said it was a nightmare.  I was a little worried after I heard that.   I opted not to prime. (I know.   You’re supposed to prime the wall so it will cover better. I just don’t have the patience though.)  It actually turned out very nice, though. Dark, but nice.  

I took my time painting my little guy’s room and not a drop of paint hit the floor, woodwork or anything!  I was so proud of myself.

Since I had left over energy from the day before I did my big guy’s today.  Still taking my time, especially with BLACK and RED paint.   I kept telling myself, “If this hits the floor, I’m going to swear so loud, my mom will hear me 5 miles away.”  I really took my time.  Black. Done.  Not a drip.  Now for the red.  I was even nervous opening the can.  Lid off.  Successful.  Pour.  Pause.  Shock.  OMG!  Yes, you guessed it.  As I was pouring the paint into the small pan, the can rocked back too far, and sure enough, ¼ of the paint was now on the floor and my feet. 

I was stuck and couldn’t move.  THANKFULLY, I had put down double plastic all around the perimeter of the room.  The entire red puddle was floating like grease in water atop the plastic bag.   I’ve never thanked God more.   After wiping my feet, and calling for reinforcements (children and husband) I managed to contain the entire spill and put the tarp into two trash bags without ONE drop of red on the floor.   I couldn’t believe it. I was so relieved.   Just goes to show you, that accidents really do happen even when you’re being careful.  (Note to self, remember this when son dents the car one day.)

I’ll post some pictures of the finished rooms shortly.  Off to pull the tape off the trim.  (And to say another prayer of thanks.)

Breaking the Rules

So while on our vacation we decided to let our oldest son drive the car.  The house we rented was on a long dirt driveway, perfect for first time drivers, so it was a perfect time and place.   When we asked if he wanted to try, his first quick reply was, “no way”.  We thought this was an unusual response for a 13 year old boy, but it didn’t take long for him to change his mind.   Our niece, (also 13) who was on the trip with us, chimed in and said, “yes”, with excitement and energy.  She knew a good thing when she saw it.   This response from her quickly changed his mind.  He wasn’t going to be shown up by his cousin, let alone a girl.   However, she had to go first.   Ladies first of course.

After my niece had her turn, my son got into the seat, put his seatbelt on and had to scoot the seat all the way up so he could reach the pedal. Very cute.  He could barely see over the steering wheel, but after his cousin’s successful drive, he had something to prove to her and to himself.

He stepped on the gas and away we went.  VERY slowly mind you.  He was a little nervous and took it very seriously, which in my mind is a good sign.  (I have no concerns that he’ll be taking the car out on his own anytime soon.)  He made it down the dirt road, accelerated well, braked a little hard, but by the end, had it down.  When the car finally was put into Park, he breathed for the first time and smiled.  Success!  He had done it.  No one was going to show him up, especially his cousin!  They were now in a little elite club of their own.  High fives were had and requests to do it again were already on the agenda for the next day. 

Pass 1

Pass 2 (note the change in facial expression)

It was a great two days of driving and know they’ll never forget it.   It’s good for kids to know that parents can have fun too and can break the rules every now and then.  I’ll never forget that day and have the pictures to enjoy forever.

Finding my Inner Turtle

Today is Tuesday.  My youngest is at a sleepover, my oldest has a friend over and they’re both still asleep, my husband just left for work and I’m still in my pajamas.

The thought…”what should I do today” has been racing through my mind.  It’s already 9:20 (I know, I shouldn’t be in my pj’s still, but I am) and haven’t really done much except brush my teeth, iron my husband’s clothes and made breakfast.  Does that count as being “busy”?  

I really need to start painting the boys’ bedrooms today, but.....(I could insert about six reasons why I should wait and start another day here). I guess it just comes down to wanting the day to be a little less structured and  not “busy”.  Getting all the painting stuff out, taping the woodwork, moving furniture, laying down the tarp, etc. is a lot of work.  I know once I get started, I’ll be fine and enjoy having the radio on and seeing my progress, but….

Why is it I always do this?  By nature, I’m not a procrastinator at all.  I’m a believer of get the work done first, then relaxing will be more enjoyable because you’re not thinking about all that you need to do.   For some reason though, I’ve just been in this slow motion mode for almost a week and don’t know that I like it or not.   I’ve always been a go go go type and this last week, I’ve just been the slow slow slow type.   Maybe I’m finding my inner turtle?  Maybe I have finally realized that sometimes you just have to relax and breathe. 

I know it’s not a life or death decision and really has no impact whatsoever on the continuation of the world as we know it, but it’s just another item in my life that has made me ponder what’s important.  Keeping busy?  Going so fast you don’t remember to look out the window? Or, enjoying the breeze on the deck? Reading for two hours straight together on the couch? 

I’ll let you know how Tuesday turns out.   Stay tuned.

Happiness, Joy, Delight, Glee

I recently finished reading The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin and gave it five stars.  I’m not going to give you a “book review” as such, but found the premise of the book to be very enlightening.  It’s simply about a woman’s quest to make herself happier by making little ordinary changes in her life. 

It’s made me think about my own life and the happiness I find each day.  Could I be happier?  Are we truly 100% responsible for our own happiness?  Can we really choose to be happy everyday?  Is it difficult to be happy?  Why do some people always seem to be happier than others?  What is their secret?   How could I make myself happier?  Is there a limit to how happy you can be?

These thoughts have been coming into my head more frequently now that I’ve read the book.  I’ve been mindful of the “aura” I’m projecting to my family, my friends and myself.  Am I being my true Stephani?  To be honest, I really hope so, but think sometimes I could be more cheerful or playful. I tend to gravitate to the side of the room of conservativeness too often.  A chuckle, not a boisterous laugh, a toothless smile, not a grin from ear to ear.   Is this a bad thing?  I’m not sure. 

In the book, Gretchen spent a year on her happiness project and created all sorts of lists, charts and guidelines to follow and try.  She encourages everyone who reads the book to start their own project and I think it’s something I’d really like to try.   I’m really good about getting started and thoroughly enjoy list making (I think it’s an actual hobby of  mine), so I’ve got that going for my project, but I tend to get lax in the “follow-through” department.  I just don’t have that “stick with it come hell or high water” attitude, thus my hesitation to start something I might not be able to complete.  

I may need to ponder this for a bit, but if I decide to take the plunge I’ll let you know. I think if we focus on happiness in general, we automatically feel happier.  We could all use a little more happiness each day, don’t you think?  I do think it’s a choice, but a choice that you have to be engaged in.  With life so hectic some days, it’s difficult to focus, but I know that when I wake up and am mindful of my words and attitudes, I’m kinder, more gentle and in return, happier, more joyful, find delight in the world and just generally more gleeful.

If you’re curious about the book, I would recommend it.  You’ll finish it in no time and it may inspire you as well.  I’ll keep you posted on my plans for my happiness project and if/when I decide to begin, you’ll be the first to know.

The Happiness Project

Soul Space

We just returned from our two-week vacation last Sunday and had a wonderful time seeing the family.  Great evening chatter, wonderful Pakistani food, parties, dressing up, sleeping in, fishing, amusement park rides, reading, baby holding, airplane peanuts, tennis playing, kayaking, and water sliding galore.   It was truly an enjoyable vacation.

Why then, has it taken me almost a week to recuperate from our trip?  It’s now Saturday evening, and I’m just beginning to feel the energy coming back into my body. I think I’m just in need of some soul space.   Time to reflect. Time to be quiet. 

When you’re on vacation, at least with children, the vacation is generally focused on them and their entertainment needs. We try to do things for us as well, but always try to keep their wants and wishes in mind.  That can be draining.  When we’d really like to just read on the deck, they’d rather play soccer, cousins against aunts and uncles. (You know who wins that coin flip.) 

I think this week has been one of catching up (bill paying, laundry, checkbook balancing, grocery shopping, friends over and the like) and a week to let my mind wander a bit.  It’s been refreshing to not have plans everyday and not have to be somewhere at a specific time. 

This week, I’ve played Boggle with my sons, played solitaire with my husband each evening, left two loads of laundry to be folded, read on the couch with my sons, made homemade pound cake, read on the deck, and searched for strawberries in my strawberry patch. (I think the birds have discovered them and so won’t be making homemade strawberry preserves anytime soon.)  I needed this week to stretch my soul a bit and listen to the sun rise.

I know that very shortly, school schedules will be in full force and new markers and notebooks will inundate our lives.  So, tonight I’m going to enjoy a hot bubble bath and read on the deck in my pj’s with my son and watch the sun set on a beautiful week.  My soul is spacious today.

My Grandmother

My grandmother recently passed away on July 7th.  She lived to be 90 years old and lived a very full and happy life. We knew she wasn’t in the best of health of late, but hearing the news was still difficult.  I know that to my dad and mom, her death is very difficult and brings about many feelings, some similar to mine, and some, I’m sure, different than mine.  For me, it meant I no longer had grandparents.  A generation I grew up with as a child was now gone from my life.  It’s a strange feeling and difficult to describe.

I’ve said this before, but in my mind, my parents are my current age and I’m still 20 years old. The reality however is that I am much older than that, as are my parents and my brother and my cousins and my aunts and uncles.   Time has passed so very quickly.  

With her passing, my parents are now the grandparents of the family for my children as my grandmother and other grandparents were for me.   I haven’t really put my head around that yet and don’t know if there’s really an easy way to accept that.   It’s just weird, for lack of a better word.  

For me, the memories I have of my grandma are so vivid and clear.  She always dressed up and NEVER wore a pair of jeans (at least that I know of).  She loved dessert and coffee and never uttered an unkind word about anyone.  She and I had many conversations about God’s plan for my life while I was in college and she always had the milk in a glass pitcher in the fridge instead of the carton it came in. I stole cookies from the deep freezer that she spent days making and know she knew, but never spoiled our fun of sneaking around.

I know I will always have those memories and no one can take them from me and I find comfort in that, but it doesn’t mean I won’t miss her.  I miss all my grandparents.  I also find comfort in knowing that she is with my grandpa now, at peace, and probably sipping a cup of coffee with a slice of cherry pie with ice cream on the side.

I wish blessings and prayers to her and my family as we continue to get up each day and make new memories for our children and our children’s children one day.  The stories will be passed down and the photos will be shared and maybe one day, my grandchild will ask me to tell the story of me stealing cookies from the freezer. I will smile and tell them how my grandmother spent days baking cookies in these little…