Summer Bucket List

Adventures are meant for SUMMER!  Especially when you have little ones.  Hopefully this list will grow as I think of things.  It's a work in progress, and I'll link things as I go.

Nashville Zoo
Chatanooga Aquarium
Drive-In Movie
Berry Picking
Beach Trip
Trout Fishing
Camping Trip

Let's Zoo This!

Since little Charlie came along, Carter sometimes gets the short end of the attention stick.  So my husband and I planned a few adventures to take him on, just the three of us.  He's gotten to be a good little side kick, and he's pretty low maintenance at this age so I thought this summer would be the perfect time.  His reaction to the beach is really what inspired me.  He's old enough to appreciate the wonder of most things, and that is magic that you can't miss.  First up, the Nashville Zoo!

 Sometimes, as an adult, it's easy to pass up things like crawling on your hands and knees to get an inside view of a meerkat cage (above), skinning your ankles on the Jungle playground slide, or paying an extra ten dollars for a 3 minute zebra train ride.  But you do it because doing those things with mommy is what they may remember most.

 Those fish came correct and posed for photos

 My little photographer in training.  The elephants from his point of view



My sister Jennifer recently wrote a post that got me thinking about who I am as a person aside from being a mom.  It's so easy to lose yourself in the wake of everyday life.  In your children, your husband,or your job, and believe me, there are days when I feel like a zombie, but I think I've held on to who I am as an individual by remembering and relishing in my favorite things.  I know, we feel like we should always include Jesus, our children, and our husband when asked what our favorite things are...so let's just assume those are all a given here.  I'm talking about the things that I do for me, and I have to say the main ingredient to most of my favorite things is time.  Making time, finding time, or sometimes stealing time to think, time to breathe, and time to decompress.  Time to enjoy things like...

A long windows-down-radio-up kind of drive

As a mom and wife, this is probably the most accessible thing for me.  I've been known to grab my keys once the kids are in bed, or sometimes I just take the long way home from the grocery store.  I have great memories on back roads as a kid with my dad and as a teen with my friends.   I believe that country roads make heavy thoughts lighter, difficult conversations easier, stubborn tears fall quicker, and muddled minds clearer. 

A fire

There's something about sitting around a fire that draws out "remember when...?" stories.  And I have to say, I become exceptionally funny around a good fire...maybe because I feel more free to be myself.  Feel more free to be a little rowdy.  Crack jokes.  Have a beer.  Being by a fire usually means that the TV is nowhere near, the stars are out, the day is done, sleep is near and the ones you love are sitting next to you.

A good glass of wine

Anyone who knows me well knows that I love a good drink.  It's something that can be hard to admit as a christian, for some reason.  My opinion is keep it reasonable and keep it responsible.  And, for me, a glass of wine usually means I'm with good company. Which leads me to...

Girl time

For me, this is my most sacred favorite thing.  I cherish my close friends.  Talking and relating to the women in my life is what lets me know that I'm not alone.  I'm not the only one who struggles, who hurts, who fights, who gets upset, or who makes mistakes.  Sometimes we think other women have it all together, and we beat ourselves down for not having what we think others have.  But girl time always reminds me that we all have similar stories, and we, as females, just want to share those stories.  We want to talk about our day, our week, or our last few months.  We tell our stories as if they are mini soap operas and sometimes get tickled by the ridiculousness of it all.  We use a lot of hand gestures, our tone goes up a few octaves, and we laugh at things that later become "you had to be there" kind of moments.  There is no substitution for a good friend.
Travel

Whether it's up I-24 to Nashville or across the country to Seattle, I love to go and see.  It's been an added perk as a stay at home mom to be able to pack up and go whenever I want.  My husband travels quite a bit for work, so sometimes I tag along with him.  I love places with history, city skylines, exploring new cuisine, or being in awe of a beautiful view.  But it's not always glamorous, and I like it that way.  Sometimes it's walking up a gravel driveway in Amish country.  Sometimes it's being barefoot in a creek.  Whatever it is, I like the adventure of it all.  And when I have the time and the funds for it, I make it happen.
These are things that make me who I am.  These things keep me excited about life and thankful.  They are the things that remind me to take a breath and love the life I have.


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Forever Changed

I laugh when I think back to before I had children.  I used to think, I'll still be myself, just with kids.  I laugh because I am so different than the person I was then.  Because whether I believed it or not, my children would change me.  Being pregnant changed me.  Giving birth changed me.  Putting someone else's needs before my own changed me.  Watching a miracle, made from my own DNA, grow and evolve changed me.   My perspective encountered a shift, and while the world around me stayed the same, my thoughts, my feelings, my fears, and my dreams became much different.

I'm a firm believer in Nurture trumping Nature.  I believe that raising my children can be boiled down to Input = Output.  What I put in to my children will come back to me without fail.  It's biblical {planting = harvest} and it's science.  What isn't divinely or genetically determined for them, is up to me.  Language, dialect, accent, expressions, physicality, sense of humor, outlook on life, beliefs, values, the list goes on and on.  Once I had children, everything became centered around making sure I was giving high quality Input.  And thank God he made some changes in me so that I could.  One of the changes I've noticed most is how I love.

I've always had a hard time showing affection.  I'm not a very good hugger, I'm fully aware of it, and no, it's not something I'm willing to work on at this point in time- I'm a big fan of the high five.  My personal space is important to me, and I catch myself using strategies like laughter, humor, or sarcasm to keep people out of it or to keep from showing how I really feel{I am working on this}.  I've built some mighty fine walls in my lifetime, and some of them have been knocked down while others still stand in the way.  But nothing stands in the way of me loving my children.  I can't kiss them enough, hug them enough, cuddle enough, or tell them how much I love them enough.  Partly because I've taken enough child psychology classes to know that my usual crutches, ie. sarcasm, can be detrimental to young children, but mostly because God has been changing and tweaking my heart a little more each day. I remember the first tweak coming days after Carter was born.  I hadn't kissed him yet, and I remember getting a mental nudge, you should probably show him some affection...something other than just holding him.  The stream of endless kisses began that day and haven't stopped since.  So this Mother's Day, I'm grateful for all the ways my children have changed me, and most of all, for teaching me how to love. 

Maybe one day they'll teach me how to become a better hugger.

Homeless

I'm on the floor, peering under my king sized bed, with a flashlight in one hand and a vacuum hose in the other when I realize my home as been taken from me.  I'm homeless.  Not in the 'I have no shelter' kind of way, but in the 'oh my God, I've been overrun' kind of way.  While hoping that the beam of my mini flashlight discovers my lost engagement ring, I instead discover 6 old apple jacks, a bouncy ball, a canine chew toy, a bolt, a topless marker, a folded up card table and 4 chairs, a baseball bat (aka homeland security), an extension pole of some sort, and what seems like a quarter inch of undisturbed dust.  This was a reoccurring theme under each piece of furniture I looked under, and I looked under every piece that isn't nailed down (excluding heavy appliances which will be pulled from their positions shortly). 

I used to find comfort in my science classroom because it was mine.  All mine.  I controlled it.  I knew where every last staple was and everything had a place.  My desk and lab counter were usually spotless, and it made me happy.  But now that my job is at home, and my home has been overrun by a borderline hoarder of a husband (this is probably an exaggeration) and a nosy 2 year old, I have no space.  No place is sacred anymore.  The living room, make that every room, is always littered with toys.  My laptop keys are busted.  My smartphone screen is usually smeared with sticky something-or-other.  My showers are usually interrupted by one or more people barging in without knocking.  My jeep floor is littered with goldfish and old fruit snacks.  My lovely Paula Deen copper bottom pots and pans are used as drums.  My Vitamin Water always has someone else's backwash in it.  The TV runs Nick Jr all.day.long.  I rarely eat a meal from beginning to end in one sitting...or standing I should say.  Because my lunch break equals scarfing down a PB&J sandwich while standing at the counter for the 3 minutes it takes for Charlies 11oclock bottle to heat up.  And as it turns out, not even my jewelry box is mine anymore.  Little fingers found my favorite watch...broken.  Those same little fingers found my engagement ring (that was patiently waiting for MY pregnant fingers to return to normal size)....lost.  Hence the searching.  I realize that it's my own fault for allowing him to get into my jewelry box, but every boundary seemed to become blurred once I had a second newborn.  Suddenly I was telling myself to give the kid some slack. But today as I was tearing through my house to find my Precious, I was a little overwhelmed by all of the C.R.A.P. that I had to pick up and sort through BEFORE looking for the actual ring at hand....or out of hand as it may be. Overwhelmed by the fact that I straighten and pick up things all day long, but that's just the surface.  Upon closer inspection, things are a mess!  In fact, there were so many spaces that needed to be sorted through or cleaned that I had to start a list on my smartphone to keep the crazy at bay.  The ring isn't here.  I know, you hate this drawer.  Despise this drawer, even.  But you don't have time to clean it out.  Just put this stupid drawer on the list, crazy woman, and move on.

The more I looked, the more frustrated I became.  Frustrated with my son.  Frustrated with my husband.  Frustrated with myself for letting it all get to this point.

My saving grace was having the sense to drag the vacuum behind me as I overturned cushions and couches.  At least I have comfort in knowing that the carpet under the love seat is clean.