megasmom

February 29th is the day.  We are leaving Chicago moving to Colorado.  With only three weeks preparation.  (It kinda feels surreal.)  I’ve been making lots of lists.

This move is a in some ways a huge leap and in others just plain common sense.  Let’s start with the commonsense:

• Mark and I both love outdoors. We come to realize that we would really enjoy more/different outdoors than Chicago and the surrounding area offers.  Of course, Chicago is AWESOME and we love it here and if we lived here 30 more years we’d be happy.  But–when I think about those experiences in my life that I really loved, those things that I look so forward to each year, those moments when I felt so at ease in my environment, they almost all happened outdoors.  Mark expresses similar (though less sappy/sentimental) feelings about the subject.  Colorado offers a lot of outdoor activities that Chicago doesn’t.  (Again, we love Chicago.  Nothing against Chicago!)
• My mom and dad live in Colorado.  Mark’s aunt and uncle and cousins live in Colorado.  We have really missed being around family.  (No family here in Chicago.)
• Mark loves his job here in Chicago–but–it is a large percentage of his life right now.  He is very good at it and earns many accolades, but sacrifices a lot in the process.  He doesn’t have much time for personal hobbies or activities.  He rarely eats dinner at home.  He works six or seven days days a week.  Working past midnight is not a rare occasion. Sometimes it’s good to just stick it out during these parts of your career, hoping the next rung of the ladder will offer more time with family or time for other interests outside of work.  It’s a gamble–it all may work out, and after a while you get more time outside of work. Or you may work your butt off for years and it doesn’t pan out.  Or you may just keep climbing successfully up and up and find there’s no real change in work-life balance from step to step.  In our case, we decided to get a new  ladder.

Okay, now for the leap:

• There’s always a risk in changing jobs.  And Mark is very successful at the firm he works at in Chicago, so to a lot of people this would seem like a stupid thing to do. (To argue otherwise, see: “Commonsense” bullet list.)
• We are leaving our home and community.  We are so, so going to miss our friends (crying just typing this out!), the places we love to visit, the museums and festivals, special spots on the lake, parks and walking paths that make this place feel like home. And Sam will be leaving his beloved school, mid-year.  It almost feels like it’d be easier if this move were forced (e.g., not our decision) but since we are making the choice to move, I feel I can’t properly grieve about leaving.  We are the ones who decided to go after all.  I know that sounds silly, though–I’m reminding myself that leaving is hard and it’s okay to be sad.
• We are going to be living on about half the income, with a much lower earning potential long-term. This is actually, as crazy as it might sound, part of our plan to “simplify.”  But the adjustment might be hard.

We are so blessed in how God is providing for and arranging each detail of this swift transition.  One of the major blessings is that my parents are welcoming us in their home until we find a place of our own. (It’s so hard to figure out where to live within the Denver area while living in Chicago!) Details in leaving our apartment in Chicago (breaking our lease) are going smoothly (I expected it to be much more difficult).  Sam turns 5 in a few months and I wanted to throw him an early birthday party here in Chicago with his friends–with only a week and a half to plan and prepare for it–and it’s all coming together wonderfully.  So grateful for so many of these details coming together so seamlessly.

So I may be posting even less frequently (is that possible??) or… I may feel like procrastinating and need some stress relief and post a lot more.  xoxo

I like to make valentine’s gifts.  In college I always handmade my valentine cards.  Like, hand-painted/-crafted with lots of details and such.  They took a lot of time.  But  I loved doing that.  In recent years it’s been more crafty type gifts. Most years, I get to give only a few because I am not the most efficient crafter.  This year I sent a few packages out, which were packaged well but unfortunately contained nothing handmade (no time this year… boo!).  Just some thoughtful little things.  But.  If it were fiscally responsible, these are a few gifts I’d give for Valentine’s day:

For a dear friend :: Luminolgy Soy Candles

For my sister :: Olive and Cocoa’s Giselle Succulent Trough

For my other sister :: Any jewelry from le petite ruban’s pretty shop.

For my mom:  West Elm’s cozy throw and a good book.

…And last but not least…

Engraved collar stays for my love.

(The last one is totally doable–price-wise–but I’ve already got Mark’s presents this year.  Maybe next year!)

We are in a state of transition over here.  Until March, I’m going to be quite a busy bee.  (Not that much posting was happening anyway around here lately anyway.)  I’m on my way out the door to take Sam to spanish class then ice skating, but when I have a moment, I’ll give a more proper update.

happy tuesday!

cutest thing since mila’s daydreams: Click!

a few beneficial ways to pass the “counting-down-the-minutes-until-____” moments with a toddler (and not turn into a tv zombie): Click!

a new perspective on how to share your gifts and talents with the world: Click!

Want a peaceful getaway? If only virtually?? Click!

Have you ever read a book, moderately liked it, and put it on the shelf with an, “Eh,”  only to pick it up a few seasons later and find it completely fresh and new and timely?  I’m re-reading a couple books right now that fit in this category.  One is Beth Moore’s So Long Insecurity.  I bought it last March with a three boxes of “Resurrection Easter Eggs” (the reciept is still in the book) and I read through it fairly quickly.  As I’ve reread it this time around, I keep thinking, How did I not underline this?  How do I not remember this part?

We all have insecurities, of course.  I remember coming to this realization in High School when I decided (during some philosophical moment I’m sure) that insecurity was a core human characteristic. (Duh.) As an over-confident teenager (as teenagers can be!), I came to the conclusion that (except in extreme situations) though insecurity prompted us to do stupid things, to respond ungraciously, to overcompensate, to twist our perception of reality, to focus on others faults, to smother our gifts and talents, it was just a part of life that we really couldn’t do much about.

As the years have gone by and some of that naivete has rubbed off, I’ve become more well-aquainted with my own insecurities, more than I could as that over-confident teenager.  I’ve discovered just how deeply and directly related my insecurity is to the situations I handle so poorly.  I’ve realized that a lot of offensive behaviors from others are strongly rooted in their own insecurities, which makes them sting less, if not in the moment, in retrospect.  And I’ve also realized that insecurity should not be dealt with as “just a part a of life we can’t do anything about.”   I’ve read verses and books, prayed and sought counseling, some seasons more fervently than others.

Back in December, I started thinking and praying about what my “word of the year” would be for 2012.  What I was drawn to, while reading through a daily devotion sent to my gmail, is the word dignity (from Proverbs 31).  At first it was very hard to admit to myself, let alone others, that I even have the right to aim for such a high goal.  But then God whispered in my ear, by way of Beth Moore’s book, “Not only do you have the right to and are worthy of dignity, it’s what I desire for you.”

No matter how foolish insecurity has tried to make us feel, we have the right to dignity because God himself gave it to us.  If we really believed this truth, we wouldn’t have to mask our insecurity with pride.  If we knew who we were and what God has conferred upon us, what everybody else though if us would grow less and less significant. (from page 159 of Beth Moore’s So Long Insecurity)

(I am conflicted about this idea of “not caring what people think.”  I know we need be confident in who we are in Christ and not dependent on other’s perceptions of us, but I also know we experience God through others and need to be held accountable by our friends and family… so where do we draw the line?  I guess when what they think matters more to us than what God thinks, or when what they think is not congruent with what the Bible or the Holy Spirit or other godly people in our lives are telling us.  But it’s hard for me to find that balance sometimes.)

The next part of the book is an extended prayer and petition and meditation, which I’m positive I skipped the first time through.  I’m feeling a little apprehensive, expecting this portion to be a bit draining emotionally.  But an important part of the process.  I already feel insecure about dealing with my insecurity, as insane as that sounds.   I’m trying to remember these words as I press on: “Our possesion of dignity is not always something we feel.  It’s got to be something we know.  Something we emphatically claim” (page 160), and now I humbly approach the throne of grace with confidence.

Ps:  How sweet is my new niece?!  I can’t wait to meet her!

…but I didn’t.  So this is what I have to share with you this morning.

I’ve got the tireds.  I’ve got lots of old makeup and hairspray-encrusted hair.  And my 9th grade cheerleading sweatshirt.  But 15 hours ago things looked a little better.  I wasn’t in this sweatshirt, at least.

It was date night last night–but not just any date night: a fancy work dinner with Mark.  I wore my fancy blue dress and panty hose and everything.  I spent 40 minutes doing my hair and makeup.  I shaved.  And not just my shins.  I worked for it.

After stuffing myself into my fancy dress, I stuffed myself with good food.  I chatted with friends and met new people.  It was fun and fancy.  We stayed until the waiters stopped refilling our waters and pumpkin turned back into a Prius.  I closed out the evening by collapsing into bed, makeup and all.

I never would have thought, pre-motherhood, that going out for a fun (and free) dinner would be so exhausting!   But–BUT–I wouldn’t have missed it for the coziest mattress in Chicago.  Date nights take work–they are hard.  They take planning ahead and finagling schedules–they are more exhausting than dealing with two napless kiddos sometimes…but so so important.   I need that space between me and the kids.  I need that non-parenting-related reconnection with Mark.  I need to remember that sometimes it feels good to squeeze into a fancy dress and do my hair up all pagent-y and walk on four inch heels.

(But my sweatshirt this morning feels pretty darn good too.)

Any date nights you’re looking forward to?  Any cures to the datenight exhaustion?

…it’s that I’m hungry.  Apparently, mostly for sweets.  Maybe January can be “Try New Sweet Recipes” month.  I’m on board with that.  Have any sweet recipes to share?  Please do!

Mini Blueberry Galettes / Snickers Rocky Road / Cupcake Mixology / World’s Best Peanut Butter Cookies