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There is a small part of me that balks at such practices--it's outdated and unnecessary now, but I also treasure it, because it was started by my Grandma Doris, who always made sure her "boys" were well fed, not necessarily on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:)