Keeping it close

There are certain things you don't realize aren't the norm for everyone until you are much older.

For instance, it wasn't until I was in high school going into college, that I realized (as in, it really dawned on me) that not everyone has family close by.

For me it was never a question.  All of my Mama's brother and sisters lived on the same road (the same road I currently live off of, mind you), until Aunt Connie got high and mighty and married a man named Buzzy who lived a whopping 30 minutes away in Buzzard's Corner (yes, that is really what it is called)!

It was a big deal.

And I'm not being facetious there.

I was somewhere around 11 when all that went down.  Connie wasn't the first of Grandma's children to move out of the community, other aunts and uncles had lived in New Bern for short stints as well, but Aunt Connie was the first to settle down away from home.
She always was a trailblazer, to which I attribute it starting when she bought that motorcycle…

Anywho, when my husband, who at the time was merely my older brother's long-haired, hippie friend, first came to visit "home", he was shocked that everyone lived on the same road. We were shocked that he was so shocked.
Even though he comes from a large family with lots of aunts and uncles, they all lived a little more dispersed throughout the Minneapolis area.

Not here.  We like things nice and close. :)

It's still like that today. 

When The Hubs and I moved back to this area four years ago from Wilmington, NC, we first started looking for houses in the surrounding little towns, but then realized, what was the use?

We moved back to be closer to family. (And close was what we got in that situation--living with my parents for 2 years before moving in our own home again…but I'll save that for a later post…)

When we finally did move into our new home, it was (and is) within spitting range (okay, so maybe that's a slight exaggeration) to not only my parents, but two of my uncles homes too.

Just yesterday, Sugar and I took a walk through the woods to Grandma and Pop's. 

Here she is now (with our fat cat in the forefront).

It's not a long walk, maybe half a mile, but not quite.

It's through the same woods I spent countless hours as a child building forts, playing hide and seek (deer and dog if you're from this area) and stealing smokes (um, yeah, about that, Mom…).

I love living here. 

In the middle of the woods in the middle of nowhere. 

But close enough to what matters.

The good old days.

In the last episode of The Office,  Andy says "I wish there was a way to know you're in the good old days, before you've actually left them."

Since hearing that, The Hubs and I will half-jokingly remark this whenever we see fit, usually when Sass is being a typical teenage girl or when the dog poops on the floor, or insert any typical family drama here.

Lately, though, we have both been more aware of how accurate Andy is.

For most accounts, we don't realize we're in the "good old days", until they are long gone.

I realized recently, however, that maybe The Hubs and I are at the "good old days" stage of life.

Both our kids are still at home (barely), we are both in the middle of our careers and our parents are all still healthy.

Relatively speaking, life is pretty darn good!

We are beyond blessed.

These ARE our golden years.

And it's kind of scary.

Not that I'm disappointed in the least. In fact, I am sometimes overwhelmed at how gracious God has been.

It's scary, because I know they won't last forever. 

Not the way they are now, anyway.

One of my first blog posts was about how poorly I was handling the fact that Sass leaves for college next fall (read here).

I'm still not sure how I will handle that, although I sometimes think she is preparing me to let go by driving me absolutely crazy first…:)

But I know this stage won't last forever, just like the baby stage didn't.
And it hurts a little.

My sweet husband tells me once the kids are gone, we'll get to do all the stuff we never could before and have the money to fix the house the way we want it and other lies to try to comfort me.

And I appreciate his attempts, I truly do, but I know what it's like to look back at those baby pictures and yearn to hold that sweet baby face close to yours just once more--so what's it going to be like to have more pictures to yearn for???

I'm being ridiculous, I know.

Life is sweet, but fleeting.

Maybe it's the last glow of the Christmas tree that will come down tomorrow that is making me so nostalgic.
Or maybe it's the post-holiday blues that like to creep in when you've been awake too long.

Whatever it is, the good old days are bittersweet, even when you are in the midst of them.
I don't know the secret on how to savor every last minute of them other than to try.

This little gem has been circulating on Facebook the past few days. It has been shared from renowned children's author and illustrator, Patricia Polacco's FB page.  It sums up perfectly how these good old days Andy speaks of in The Office are gone in a flash, so you better relish them while you can!

The Art of Piddling

So, Christmas is over.
Just.like.that.

And it was as beautiful as ever, minus the stomach bug, fever and chills.

Seriously, it was great.

I always ask my kids what was the favorite part of whatever we've been doing (favorite part of your weekend, favorite part of your birthday, etc.,) and I think my favorite part of this year's Christmas would either be listening as Daddy read the Christmas story from the Bible as he does every Christmas morning, or goofing off Christmas Eve night with my brother, his wife, a few cousins and the rest of my brood. It was good for the soul.

Sugar woke up this morning and her first words, I kid you not, were, "Only 364 more days 'til Christmas!"

You have to love her enthusiasm…

Since The Hubs has to work the next two days, this morning we decided to join the crazies and venture out to Target the day after the biggest holiday of the year.

Probably not the best idea, but if I'm totally honest, I agreed because I knew lunch was involved.

And I had some Christmas $$$ to spend.

Oh, and of course, to spend some quality time with my main squeeze.

This afternoon, however, has been my "favorite part" of today.

I piddled.

I did a little bit of this and a little bit of that, but not a whole lot of anything.

I made room for our new coffee maker. And then moved it somewhere else. And then moved it back.

I took a few decorations down, but decided I wasn't quite ready for that, so I stopped.

Started a box for things I plan on purging.

Cleaned out my purse.

Painted my toenails.

Looked through some old pictures.

I did all this with no agenda, no timeline and with complete ease.
It was wonderful!

It's not often we get to piddle in this house.  There is usually some kind of timeline we're dealing with that inhibits the art of piddling. We have to hurry up and get going to the next event or task in order to accomplish what needs to get done. Its a necessary evil at times, that scheduling.

However, on days when piddling is possible, piddle on baby!

Piddling is underrated and underutilized. It allows us to slow down the pace, enjoy what is ours, while still semi-accomplishing things.

Piddling can also lead to plundering, but that is a whole different post…

I can only hope in these last few days of the year, you find the time to piddle. Time to move at your own pace, get some things done (or not), time to pamper yourself or nap a little. Life will catch back up with you soon enough.

Until then, piddle on!

Merry Converse!

So, this week has been a little crazy town.

I work in my local school system as a school librarian, and not only has it been the week before Christmas vacation, we have also had a full moon.

And vomit.

A bug has been spreading through our school. My week has consisted of avoiding hallways that smell like puke, using hand sanitizer like a feen and praying I don't get sick over Christmas break.

So far I've dodged the bullet, knock on wood.

Despite the barf, I really love working in an elementary school this time of year.  Nothing puts you in the Christmas spirit like Kindergartners jacked up on Santa.  The Christmas art work alone is enough to put a smile in your heart.

Speaking of smiles in your heart, the other day ago, Sugar told me she didn't like big, fancy Christmas trees because they don't look real. She said real Christmas trees have homemade ornaments.  Good thing ours is real:)

Not that it is homemade, but one of my most beloved ornaments is a pair of old shoes that Sugar wore as a baby. I bought these at Kohl's one year after Christmas and paid less than $5 for them.  They were big when I bought them, but Lil' Sugar got 2 good years of wear out of them.

And now, we get a lifetime of Christmas memories out of them:)

Merry Christmas!

Ladies first?

I had the privilege to grow up in a large extended family.  My mama had 8 brothers and sisters and my daddy had 11 siblings.

I was rich in cousins, aunts and uncles to say the least.  Most of my treasured childhood memories revolve around time spent at Grandma's house with my cousins.

Of these memories, I would bet a great deal took place on Sundays.  Sunday dinners (that's the lunch meal in the South--evening meal is supper, FYI) have long been a tradition in my family for as long as I can remember.

Every Sunday after church, most of my extended family still meets at the "homeplace", now my Mama and Daddy's house (they bought and moved into Grandma's house once she passed), for lunch.

The house is small (1000 sq feet?) but the family is large!  Somehow, we manage to feed and entertain roughly 20 people every Sunday on a feast of your favorite country foods: collards, potato salad, butter beans, casseroles, ham, mashed potatoes, chicken, string beans, etc.

And, in old school fashioned, the men still eat first.

Yes, you read that right.

In 2013, the men are still served first at my Mama's house on Sundays.

Now that's some deep rooted tradition.

There is a small part of me that balks at such practices--it's outdated and unnecessary now, but I also treasure it, because it was started by my Grandma Doris, who always made sure her "boys" were well fed, not necessarily on Sundays, but before working the fields, while the women would stay and work at home.

The matriarchs of my family, my Mama and Aunt Kay, continue with this practice and who am I to stop them???

They do most of the cooking:)

The men could do a dish or two every now and then though....I'm sure there would be no complaints there...

Until then, I wait my turn, look through the sales papers and catch up on the latest family happenings. Hurry up, fellows, and don't eat all the collards!

Sweet tea and....Jesus?

This weekend I had the awesome opportunity to get away with a few girlfriends and take a road trip to Stone Mountain, Georgia for The Country Living Home Fair.

It was ah-mazing!  And by amazing, I mean if you like all things rustic, country in that artisan kind of way.

I have a hard time with the term "country" when describing decor.  I have all too fond childhood memories of blue gingham curtains, hunter green and mauve wall-paper border and Holly Hobby wooden cut outs (no offense, mama).

The Country Living Home Fair, however, did an excellent job of choosing vendors that represent the passion and heart of the magazine they publish. Such as The Go Girl Shoppe.

http://www.gogirlshoppe.com

They hail right here from good ol' NC...Raleigh/Durham to be exact!  I bought the majority of my purchases from this vendor.  Here is my favorite purchase of their's this weekend:

I can't wait to find the perfect place to hang it!

This sign is perfect for me, because there aren't too many mornings that I don't run through the Bojangles drive thru for a large sweet tea. My drives to work are also my "quiet" time (Read: no kids in the car) that I meditate and pray for the day:)

I wish I had taken more pictures but that was frowned upon by many of the vendors...and let's be honest...homegirl still doesn't have a smart phone and lugging my DSLR around that place wasn't going to happen!

I hope to make this trip a tradition--it was a wonderful excuse to get out of town, recharge my batteries and discover some great finds!

The "rest" of us...

Technically, I should be sleeping right now.

Sunday afternoons have unofficially become "nap time" in our house.  And, it only seems fitting after the series at church we've been having on rest.

You know, rest?  That thing you did before you had kids. Or, when you were college. Basically, it's that thing you were able to do before you became that dreaded word called "adult".

It seems, and I'm very guilty of this, that we are a culture that is entirely "too busy".  And who isn't?  After working all day, and then taking the kids to their various after school activities and then going to church small group night, I finally get home around 9 o'clock, only to have to wash a tennis uniform for  Sass's match tomorrow and make Sugar's lunch.  By the time I fall in bed and set the alarm for 5am, who has time for rest???

We are all busy.  Busy with work. Busy with our family. Busy with life.  And busy is not an entirely bad thing.  It means we are living and loving and not just existing.

But, busy can also be a cop out.

Don't get offended, I already said I'm the guilty one here. There are times I say I'm too busy for something, only to go home, put on my fat pants and troll Pinterest for the rest of the evening....(no visuals, please).

Busy has somehow gotten glorified in our culture.  We believe the assumption that if you're busy, you're doing it right.
Don't believe me?  How many people have you ever heard say "Man, I've had so much free time lately"?

Being busy gives us an excuse.
An excuse to why we haven't reached our goals.
An excuse to why we haven't made that call we've been dreading to make.
An excuse to why we aren't reaching out to others.

I know what it's like to feel overwhelmed, that there aren't enough hours in the day to accomplish what needs to be accomplished.  I get that.  I feel that way often.

But, I also know, unless we slow down and build rest into our everyday lives, we will burn out.

We need to stop glorifying busy and actively pursue rest. 

Our pastor has described rest as a preparation, not a recovery.

So often, we use the weekends as a way to recover--from work, from a hangover, from the stress that we endured all week.
Instead, we need to change the paradigm and think of it as a preparation.
A way to prepare for the next week.  To get our minds and bodies ready for the work that lies ahead.

My hope for you, dear readers, (all 5 of you...)is that you, too, will rest.  

Take that nap without feeling guilty.

Read a book.

Lay in the hammock (not today, it's raining here in eastern NC!)

Be lazy.

And if you get any flack for it, tell them the preacher said it's good for you:)

Say it ain't so

Homes all around the small town I live in are probably doing the same thing tonight.

Packing book bags, making PB & J's, and attempting to get the kiddos to bed a little earlier.

 That's been the theme for my house today. Lunches are made, paperwork is (almost) filled out and I am already planning an early bedtime for myself--not sure if my children are planning the same!

 School officially starts back tomorrow.

 I had a very uneventful (read: relaxing) summer and I hate to see it end.

 I am, however, looking forward to a new school year. The beginning of a new school year also brings all kinds of other things I really enjoy: Autumn, cooler weather, FOOTBALL, pumpkin-flavored everything, fall inspired clothing (read: scarves, boots) and Halloween and Thanksgiving.

 And to be totally honest, I'm tired of sweating:)

 Getting back on track, I have several friends who are dropping their babies off to Kindergarten tomorrow. One will be drug out the door by her lil' lady and the other will have to be drug out the door by her husband while white knuckling her sweet little boy closer.

 Each child, and mother, are different and this is something I have to remind myself on occasion.

Decisions I wouldn't make, opinions I wouldn't have and choices I scoff at, are usually made because a mom feels in her heart it is best one for her child. 

It doesn't make her wrong and me right or vice versa.

 It makes us different.

 Parenting is a hard.

 "It's the hardest job you'll ever love" is the Hallmark equivalent of "Get ready, this "ish" is going to hurt".

 More than ever, parents need to support one another and offer help, instead of judgement, where it is needed.
 That's just my two cents:)

 Hug your babies a little tighter tonight. Get those last minute clothes picked out and go to bed early...you have school tomorrow.

Tomorrow will be interesting...

Tomorrow is the day.  The end of sleeping in, lazy pajama days, beach rendezvous, endless Mad Men marathons and time well spent with my girls.

Tomorrow "workdays" begin.  For those of you not in the education profession, "workdays" are those days we got to work without the students present.  Anyone who has ever taught knows every day is a work day, but, alas, that's what we call them...

Any who, tomorrow I join the real world again.

I'm actually looking forward to it.  Sort of.

My husband keeps saying that this year (school year) is going to be interesting.  And I agree, I just don't like the way he says interesting...as if there is something attached to it. As if he knows something I do not.

Sass, what I call my 17 year old, will be a senior this year.

**pardon me while I vomit**

Yes, that's right, mama's baby is entering her last year of public schooling.

I'm not exactly dealing very well with this fact.  This is apparent from the sobbing I choke back every time I think about sending her off to college next year.    Tears, ugly face and all.

And she hasn't even had her first day of her senior year.

Yes, I am naturally a crier.  But, it's usually over tissue commercials, "move that bus" moments or Sarah McLachlan's horrid doggie commercials.

You know, things that any normal person with a heartbeat might get a little verklempt over.

This is different.  This crying is because I know.

I know once she leaves for college, our life with her will never be the same.  Not that it will be bad, but it will be different.

She will be different.

She'll get that first taste of independence and love every morsel of it.  She'll make her own hours, develop relationships I'll question and entertain opinions I don't trust.

As she rightly should.  It's a rite of passage.

But that doesn't mean I have to like it:)

Sass has always been a "good kid". We have never had to give her a curfew because she's never needed one.  She makes very wise choices for her age and surrounds herself with "good people".
She has great discernment and can see crazy coming a country mile away.  She sticks to her guns.

So, I struggle with my tears, because I truly am happy for her.  I'm excited for the prospects that lie ahead. But I'm sad that my little girl is growing up.
Fortunately, she's growing into a God-fearing, Jesus loving, strong, capable woman.  But it's still too fast for this mama.

Tomorrow, for me, is way more than a regular workday.  It's the beginning to our year of "lasts".  Last homecoming football game, last Christmas at home, last prom, last, last, last...

Told you I wasn't dealing very well.

So forgive me if I start crying for no apparent reason.  I'm trying to manage some very "interesting" emotions.

Sweet Sass on her 3rd birthday

One of these things is not like the other...

Who remembers the Sesame Street song with these lyrics?

"One of these things is not like the other, one of these things just doesn't belong"

That's what I've been singing lately as I try to accept my new of eating.

Alas, all those years of shoving pasta, bread, pastries, chips (and anything else remotely resembling carbs) into my cake hole has caught up with me.

And, as a result, the good doctor has sentenced me to a life of low carb.  I know, it sucks, right?

I'm southern.  We reek of carbs.

Dumplings, cornbread, cobblers and casseroles are our way of life.  Just today as I sat down for Sunday dinner at Mama's, the table prided itself with pineapple casserole (yes, it sounds weird, but is delicious!), pasta salad, cheesy rice, and mashed potatoes.

Of course, carbs aren't just privy to the South. A dear Italian friend from NY, who is an amazing cook, slathers her fair share of carbs on the supper table as well:)

So the song lyrics seem appropriate, considering it is hard to both live in the south and be expected to live low carb.

I've been adjusting as best as I know how and, to be honest, I do feel better.  I have more energy and am less likely to doze off in the middle of the afternoon now. Which is a plus, especially when you are responsible for small children.

I cheat, probably a little more than I should, but I am trying to find a variety of recipes so I don't get bored with the eggs, salads and chicken breast I've been choking down...

This is a big deal for me.  I often kid with The Hubs that I am one bad decision away from being the compulsive Mt. Dew chugging, cigarette smoking, cheese doodle stuffing redneck I was born to be.  Not that there's anything wrong that!

So, in the mean time, I half-heartedly nibble my carrots and eagerly await my "cheat days".

Take time to sniff the bushes...

For some reason, I often live in a state of hurry.

I feel like I must hurry up and get everything done so I can finally relax.  Oftentimes, this is counter productive and makes me not accomplish all that I would like in the manner I would like.

This morning for instance, I had a long list of things I wanted to cross off my "to-do" list.  (I'm very list motivated--I have lists for my lists--seriously!)

But, as any dog owner knows, nothing gets done until the pooch has done his business.

Our dog Charlie still has to be taken for walks on his leash to do said business, although he is getting better about going on his own without the fear of him running off/away.

Here's a pic of good ol' Charlie Boy:

Isn't he so handsome?

Anywho, Charlie is the world's slowest pee-er.  Not sure if that is a word, but Charlie will sniff every bush and its mama before finding the perfect one to tinkle on.

And it drives me absolutely crazy.

Because of my lists.

I can't mark off on my list(s) if Charlie doesn't hurry up and finish his business!

One nice thing about Charlie's walks are they are down the long dirt road we live on, so most mornings, its just me, Chuck and Mother Nature.


 It's nice and shady and a good place to meander when meandering is on the list:)

This morning it was not.

I was becoming frustrated with my little boy because all he wanted to do was keep his nose to the ground instead of his leg hiked up.

I'd like to say I had a great epiphany in this moment on how to slow down and take time to relish the moments and breathe in all life has to offer, but I didn't.

Instead, Charlie finally found the perfect tree and I was able to walk him back home and get started on my list:)

It did, however, get me thinking (and blogging) about how I can learn to slow down and not feel so hurried...how I can feel more Charlie-like. Who, besides having to use the bathroom outside, has a pretty sweet life:)

Apparently, I'm not so good at this blogging thing--especially since I thought I would have all this extra time while I am off for the summer!  It's been a little over a month since my initial post.  And I would like to say I've been super busy, but, truthfully, other than a week of vacation, I've been mostly busying myself watching Mad Men and reading.

Not an altogether bad thing in my opinion:)

I hope to update a little more often and really use this venue as an outlet.

So, why "sweet tea and collard greens" for a title you might ask?  Well, since my primary reason of starting this blog was to discuss all things "mom", I thought what two things best describe mothering to a southerner?

Sweet tea is delicious, refreshing, and well, sweet.

Collards are bitter, full of vinegar and an acquired taste, but for those who like them, still delicious!

Alas, my summary of parenting!

I love being a mom.  Of course, I don't really know anything else being I had my first at the ripe (i.e., too young!) age of 19. Nonetheless, it can be downright painful at times, physically, but most of all, emotionally.

I'm the proud mama of two girls--17 year old "Sass" and 8 year old "Sugar".  They couldn't be any more different, but I love them both to pieces.  I also have a super cute and supportive hubby who partners with me in this journey.  We will call him "The Hubs" :)

Thanks for reading--The Hubs will be home from work soon, so I must ready myself for our weekly trip to Lowe's  (a married couple's idea of a hot date...)

My first post...so much to say!  Alas, I must go make guacamole for a cookout tonight.  Such a dangerous life I lead:)
Seriously, I have wanted to start a blog for a while, and now that I have a little extra time over the summer, now is as good as time as any!
My main purpose for this blog is to vent, share and commiserate all things "mama".  Whether you are a seasoned mother, a future mom or a mama to your fur babies, mothering is hard! It takes a little bit of your heart every day to feel like your doing a half-way decent job.  My hope is to some how start a conversation with all mama's who second-guess themselves.  Including (especially) myself.
Happy reading!