Gavin's Next Adventure

Yup, I think Gavin's just about ready for potty training. So we picked up a chair and we'll just see how this goes. I'm honestly in no big rush so right now the chair is just here and we'll see if he sits on it before bath time. Since we're going out of town for Labor Day weekend, I don't want to get super duper into this until we get back.

A moment for cuteness

Nothing puts you on your guard about your own behavior like having a toddler who mimics everything you do. And it's just so CUTE!!! Last night for dinner we had chicken tortilla soup with chili-cheese bread, which was Gavin's first soup experience. You could tell that even though he had a few problems eating it, he loved that he was eating exactly what Mama and Daddy had. Combine that with he's now sitting in a booster seat at the table, this kid is on his way to Grownupsville! ;)

So after dinner I was cleaning up and Gavin was playing back and forth in between the kitchen and dining room. I tune into what he's doing and realize he's setting the table for his own soup dinner with plates for Mama, Daddy and Gavin. Then a few minutes later when we're in the living room, he comes in with a couple plates and a bowl and proceeds to feed us trains. How adorable!! :D Sorry, I didn't get pictures of this cuteness but I'm sure there will be other opportunities to capture moments just like this one. ;)

Heartwarming!

I loved this story. A homeless woman writes to a columnist for career advice and ends up with a solid internship that should lead to an incredible job! Yay happy endings! (or beginnings) ;)

A Boy and his Pooh

Gavin has lately really gotten into personifying his Big Pooh (btw, Pooh is so flat because Gavin uses him for a pillow every night). The other day Gavin insisted that Pooh needed a snack as much as he did. So we put Pooh in the high chair and Gavin sat at the table and shared his Wheat Thins and Craisins with him. Adorable!! Tonight though we're all about basic necessities: Pooh needs a diaper.

The bathroom stool is the perfect height change table for Gavin as he demonstrates proper diapering techniques.

All better...see?

Later Gavin was trying to figure out how to put a pair of shorts on over the diaper.

Bonus picture of random cuteness. :) Love those cheeks!!!

I Kilzed it

The walls and anything left on them don't stand a chance against KILZ. Mwahahahahaha!

EEK!

For some reason that no matter how much I'm a freak about cleanliness, I am the MESSIEST painter. Not so much that I'm sloppy with what I'm painting, but with me. I get covered in paint. Once while helping Dad paint an elementary school gym I got paint on the back of my shoulder. We still don't know how exactly I accomplished that.

Primed!!

I cannot even begin to tell you how much BETTER I feel about this wall!!!

"Vacation" 2009: Cleaning day!

Now that the wallpaper is off, the glue residue needs to go. Tried to show the actually dramatic difference but the lighting wouldn't cooperate. These are probably the best at showing the walls before and after cleaning. Again, more pics on FB. ;) Above is the window wall, before cleaning.

Window wall, after cleaning

The dreaded, disgusting mirror wall, before cleaning.

Mirror wall, after cleaning. You can almost barely see the icky mark in the middle! :D Tomorrow is priming day...WAHOO!!!!

"Vacation" 2009: Updating my bathroom

So our upstairs bathroom has been some serious need of updating. I discovered I had so much vacation time left that I've decided to spend this week getting started on that project. First, the dated, ugly, faded, and torn wallpaper comes down. More pics on FB of my progress today but here's a taste for you non-Facebookers. ;)


If you're wondering why we didn't just paint over the wallpaper and save some headache (because it seems someone may not have followed all the drywall steps before hanging up the paper), see the above picture. With such a small print, if the paper was snug in tight in the corners from ceiling to floor then the paper would be crooked. It would expose the fact that the walls aren't square anymore (if they ever were). So you keep straight paper by curving over the corners wherever necessary. And it's just too tempting for little fingers to poke holes into these spots.


Surprise!! This was waiting for me when I took the mirror down. Lovely, isn't it? The wall under the paper doesn't look nearly as nauseating as the paper here.


The carnage. This is what happens to ugly wallpaper in my house. It should be grateful I didn't immediately set it on fire.

Next step in this oh-so-fun process is to get the glue off the walls. Yaaaay. I'm focused on the pretty bathroom picture in my head. That picture will get me through this nastiness.

A boy's first Harley...

Oo! OOO! CLICK ME!!

My Scarlett Letters: NGE

Have you read the Scarlett Letter? If not, you should because it's really good. The language is a little old and can be a bit dry at times but it's a really powerful story. The running theme of this book I think resonates with a lot of people, hence my reason for this post.

I am in a Bible Study right now and we are working through Beth Moore's Believing God. Last night we discussed a chapter where Moore delved into this Scarlett Letter concept. That is, what fault or shame do each of us carry deep inside that we feel like the letter(s) of it is emblazoned on our shirt fronts for all to see? Moore challenges the reader to list out some of the letters we have. Like anyone I have several but one set has really been bugging me lately and it's come to the forefront today and this week: NGE, or Not Good Enough.

I have always struggled with being a perfectionist but never moreso since I've had Gavin. Now it seems to have really taken on this negative spin though because instead of trying to be perfect, which I know is impossible, everything I do is Not Good Enough. It's never enough. Like, questioning why I would go back to work after having a baby. Yeah, I can twist that one well by asking if one is implying I won't be a good enough mother because I work outside the home. And that really spins off in a thousand different directions because I need to make sure the house is clean enough, homey enough and everyone is happy enough even though I spend 40 hours each week in an office. Did I clean the toilets this week? When did I last mop the floor? When you walk in the door does the fact that we have 3 furry pets immediately assail your nostrils? Yeah, you can probably see right away how manic I get about this. But if I drop any of these balls, I feel people will first attribute it to the fact that I work; that's why I'm Not Good Enough at being a homemaker.

Oh and then there's my office. What joy! What rapture! What STRESS!! As seems to be my lot in life, I am again by myself in my position. No one to 100% back me up and share the pressure with. So if I'm gone, I'm scrambling in 12 different directions to make sure a variety of people can do exactly what needs to be done (God help them if a situation outside the box comes up because I'm not usually able to prep them for that). And if something goes wrong, or threatens to go wrong, it's typically my fault. I'm Not Good Enough. The event was ok but it could have been better. I should put up signs in the door of the main building IN CASE someone didn't read the clearly spelled out address and directions in the confirmation e-mail and wander into the wrong building. Oh what disaster if that should happen! Oh and don't forget to call these people...yes today. Where are you at in the outstanding invoice follow-up? Why didn't you get someone to cover the office while you're out at meetings? Who's going to do this? Oh Jeanna can get that ready for us. [Insert scream here]

At home, my NGE is completely self-inflicted. I "hear" what people aren't saying in questions that dance around my household, my family. At work though I think management plays a little more role perhaps in how they phrase things to me. I feel very isolated, like it's all up to me to keep certain things afloat.

So why do I do this to myself? I don't know. Some of it seems to really stem from personal pride; I want to do well. I want to excel, succeed. Why should I settle for anything less than as close to perfect as I can get it? At work they certainly seem to expect perfection (God knows when I fail I hear about it). And at home I totally have high expectations: my son should be happy, well-mannered and fun. The house itself should be tidy and as clean as I can keep it with a dog, two cats and a toddler.

I don't want to lower my expectations. I do want to figure out how to give myself a break. I need a break. I need to know that it's ok to screw up. I need to not be yelled at. I need to know I haven't disappointed anyone with my actions or decisions. Unfortunately this kind of stuff isn't always possible for me to have. So I need to find an alternative way to let go of my NGE letters. I'll figure it out. I'll have to. Because to hang on to my letters will only serve to poison me and my relationships with others around me. There's got to be a way to learn how to let go. Give it to God and let go. Yeah...I yearn for that freedom...

So anyway, not sure if this will turn into a series of posts or not as I do have other letters. We'll see... ;)

Adventures in Camping, Take 1

"Camping is nature's way of promoting the motel industry." ~Dave Barry, Only Travel Guide You'll Ever Need

If you know me at all, you know that truer words were never spoken for me. I did not go on camping excursions when I was growing up. Sure we spent a lot of time outside, did a lot of hiking, touring old war sites and whatnot but actually spending nights and days completely out-of-doors in a tent was not something my family did.

My first camping experience came when I was around 12 or so. My parents went out of town to celebrate their anniversary and left my brother and I in the care of our pastor. The weekend happened to coincide with the church camping trip. I remember the crazy shopping trip for groceries (two heaping carts full of food for one weekend??) and the drive up to the camp site (Pastor Bond warning his older son to stop pulling on his seat). When we got there, I was to stay in the tent with my pastor, his wife and younger son. My brother and his older son were in their own tent since they'd both been Boy Scout camping and were more into it. Despite sleeping on an air mattress and having access to a bathroom, I just didn't enjoy it. I was bored; the only thing to do was sit around and chat, play silly games with the little kids or go fishing (which I'm terrible at btw). I also remember LOTS of people...it was very crowded and pretty overwhelming. But ultimately at the end of the weekend I just did not see the attraction to spending a weekend outside in the muggy, humid, hot weather where bugs can eat you nonstop. There was no reprieve.

Despite my distaste for camping, not only do I fall in love with a camping enthusiast, but several of our close friends also enjoy camping. For the last couple years they have slowly begun to plan annual camping trips. The stories they tell from previous trips sound appealing and like lots of fun. There is obviously a growing camaraderie among those who go on these trips. So Rob decides this year, he is absolutely going and wouldn't I like to come too? Between Rob and my girlfriends I was somehow persuaded that camping really was fun and I should go on this trip.

So this trip has been planned since January. Half the group would get to the site on Wednesday and those who couldn't get out of work would join them on Friday. I fell into the second group and was not-so-secretly happy about that. ;)

The way it worked out, I ended up carpooling with a couple and I was the driver. We had quite a few adventures trying to get the three of us together, with our stuff, into my little car and then find this campsite. We ended up not getting to the campsite until about 9:30 p.m. It had rained most of that day and was still raining a bit when we got there. Um, not a happy sign. After driving in some occasionally stressful traffic situations for 6 hours, I was tired and ready for some creature comforts. But here I was in a state park, in the rain, walking 1.2 miles to a tent I was to sleep in that night. I get to the site and realize we're actually setup on a beach by a lake. Sounds nice, right? Remember that beaches have sand. Sand gets into everything, everywhere. There is no escaping the irritations of sand.

Shortly after being introduced to our roomy tent with my sleeping child only feet away from me, the sky opens up and starts some more serious rain. Hm, yeah, really not liking this. Despite already feeling sweaty and gross though, I just decide to lay down and go to sleep. HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! Oh that's funny. Because if it wasn't pouring down rain that night, it was storming (complete with lightening, thunder and evil sounding wind). So there I am on a thin air mattress (hey, when you're used to a pillow-top mattress at home, anything less is thin), in a sleeping bag, sand on my pillow and listening to the rain pound on our tent. I begin to question the sanity of those around me. This is supposed to be fun??

Eventually the sky lightens up and I realize it's something of morning finally. The horrible night is over. However it is still raining. My head is beginning to pound from the stress, lack of sleep and the sudden need for caffeine. I realize though "hey, how can you heat up water for coffee if it's raining outside?" I ask Rob about the coffee situation and when his answer wasn't immediately a 100% positive response, I begin to have a hard time holding it together. He does setup the camp stove at our tent entrance though and runs off to find a pot for water. As he's putting this all together, I'm trying to take deep breaths to keep from wallowing in my misery. And then, the inevitable... in the cutest, sweetest voice imaginable, my little boy (who is up by the point) looks right at me, points to the lone tear on my cheek and says "what's wrong Mama?" That's it! Forget it! Open the floodgates because I just cannot stop crying! I give in to the fact that I'm so far out of my comfort zone it doesn't even seem real. I give in to my physical discomforts, my emotional ones and just let it out. But what can I do?? I came up with two other people so it's not like I can just leave them. Rob offers me the solution, which at the time sounded like he was offering me heaven itself: take Gavin and go home. If I took Gavin, Rob would have the space to take our friends.

At first I don't want to do this. That would mean I'm weak, I bailed out, I caved at the first sign of stress and ran as fast as I could. I could be strong. I could maybe figure out a way to do this. And then Rob checks the weather forecast using his phone: more rain was coming for the following night. That made my decision. I would eat breakfast and leave. There is no way I could tolerate another uncomfortable, sleepless night and be safe to drive the next day. I probably shouldn't have driven as I was but what choice did I have? I went through a drive-thru, grabbed a big coffee and gripped the steering wheel the whole way home (yes, through the rain because I just couldn't avoid rain this weekend). Thankfully I made it home in a little under 3 hours. Thankfully too that it was just in time for naptime so I could plop Gavin in bed and work on unloading the car (and sneak in a little nap myself).

So that was my camping experience from the weekend. Yet I purposely put Take 1 in my title to this post. I love my husband, I love my friends. I am willing to try again. Slowly though. I need to do what works for me. Maybe that's spending a super long day with everyone but not necessarily staying the night. Maybe that's going on some picnics in preparation. Maybe that's spending an evening or two stargazing with my hubby. Maybe that's only committing to sleep one night in a tent instead of two. And maybe that's all of the above. I'm not sure yet but I'll figure it out. I'll give it a Take 2.... and I'll let you know if there will be a Take 3. ;)