Just your basic Friday emotions

I still feel like I'm in the thick of it most of the time. I know this is (basically) my favorite subject matter, but that's because the thick of it encompasses so much of my life. Every day I see a endless pile of something that makes me feel like I'll never get caught up, every day I struggle through some basic failure of self-discipline which just makes things worse, every day I find sand/crumbs/dirt under my duvet, every day I loose it a little/lot bit, every day I find Johnny digging through the fridge, spilling milk, not flushing the toilet... everrrr.

And it's easy to feel swallowed up.

This week was our first week of school and it was wonderful because 1. I am totally focused, sitting, interacting with my kids for the first half of the day 2. It gives us good structure 3. It simplifies our life because we can't commit to a whole lot, etc. But it was also a tricky week because 1.-10. I felt totally incapable of keeping up on all other aspects of life. Dinner, dishes, laundry, getting kids to bed on time, getting myself to bed on time, getting any place on time, brushing my hair, teeth, etc. I just felt like I couldn't do any of it. I know these things are generally of lesser value and I know we will get into a rhythm soon(isn) but when Johnny slammed the refrigerator door on my index finger today and when I caught Clemmy painting with her kefir this morning, I  found myself starting to loooooose mmmmyyyyyy miiiiinnnnnnd.

I decided to push school back a bit and I went outside to yank the dead tomato bushes out of our garden (much awaited chore + escapism) and I asked Hero to play with the baby for ten minutes while I did it.

And when I came back inside I found this...

And it made me realize that if I looked hard enough, I would realize that life is a lot more over than it is under. 

A lot.

Because there is goodness all around. It's all around. It's in the kefir painting because my girl's chubby fingers did it. It's in the refrigerator digging because he will probably still be doing it at 20 and I'll miss that little squirt with the mud-caked feet in my kitchen. It's in the piles of laundry because I have people to wash for. It's in my seven year old girl who sings her baby brother to sleep in our bed, just because. It's really all around, all the time. But it can be so hard to see. I feel like I hardly ever see it lately and I want that to change. Don't you?

Yay, Giveaway with Petunia Pickle Bottom!

Maybe you love Petunia Pickle Bottom because of their beautiful bags that can fit everything you need for a baby(ies) while totally preserving chicness. I mean, that is true, and you should love them for that. But I say they are mostly awesome because of who they are. They are a real deal, heartfelt local (for me) start up that made a great bag and it worked. They now have their very own boutique in downtown Ventura which happens to be 20 minutes from me *and* directly above Jenna's husband's office. This works out well when Petunia, say, has a sample sale and I, say, bang on his office window and he, say, comes out to stand by my kids in the van while I peruse the racks. Winner winner.

But truly- this company is one you want to buy things from. The people and the story are what makes this brand wonderful. And the bags are the best kinda perk.

So, do you want one??

Look at this bag!! I am loving this color for Fall (thanks to this bathroom which is making me want to drench my whole life in Olive). I plan on using this bag to trick myself into thinking it's really almost season-changing time even though it is still 98 degrees outside... 

Petunia Pickle Bottom has generously offered to send off one of these babies (the bag, not the child) to the luckiest one of you. The Wistful Weekender is huge- huge enough for all your diapers and, like, 30 changes of clothes if you are a preparer like that. If you are not a preparer (like me), then it's the perfect getaway bag and anything bag because it's just so pretty. I can fit all of my things plus shoes in here or all my children's things- together- OR an actual child.*

*see below

I'm so excited for this giveaway. I want to shout Petunia from the rooftops! Or go on a weekend getaway with this bag proudly slung. Both/and. Like every PPB bag, the Weekender comes with a wipes case, a changing pad and an attachable shoulder strap. Don't forget about Petunia's super cute layette line which would be the best kind of accessory (next to your actual bb.)

Good luck, my friends! Enter your name in the pot below to win. The luckiest will be randomly picked in a week! (I've never done a giveaway before so just be honest with the extra points options, etc. I know you will.)

Can't wait to see who snags this bag! Thanks, Petunia!

a Rafflecopter giveaway

Love Story, Part 4

You would think we would have been all cried out by now but...

we weren't.

 I remember I was *really* focused on NOT ugly crying.

However...

(it's obviously hereditary)

The ceremony was perfect, minus the loud bounce house full of bouncing children in the yard directly above ours. It's actually totally fitting now... as our life is an actual bounce house full of bouncing children.

(This was obviously a momentary lapse in emotion.)

Even after the the ceremony, as we got ready for pictures, it was a continuous cycle of now crying, freshly cried, crying again... really excessive.

Our reception was in our next door neighbor's backyard. Every one picked up a chair and walked over. It was sparkly and magical. I'll never forget it.

I always loved these sneaky, hidden shots of us being all alone.

And then people started making toasts and it was just a constant stream of this...

 this

this

 this

 and this.

 #shitshow

At this point we started to party, which was, like, doctors orders...

We stayed until the bitter end and had the best, best, best time.

And then we left in our sunscreen-drenched car with our family and friends all around us. Super in love, super married, not crying.

 June 18, 2005.

*

Love Story, Part 3

So, like I said, we knew that night wasn't the official proposal. I assumed in the next days and weeks he would be sorting out the ring, talking to my father, etc. and I could just wait for it. We had vaguely settled on June for the wedding, after both of our semesters ended, so I didn't expect it to be too long before I found him on a knee with a sunset backdrop with a ring in his hand, etc.

We saw each other every weekend and the weekends just started to fly by, one by one by one, with no proposal. I would start out the weekend in a really good place and then by Sunday night and the final car goodbye and the BYE, I ALREADY SAID BYE, I would Jekyll and Hyde into this raging, crazy b. And by that I mean crying and whining and but I thought you were going to propose to me?? whine whine cry.

It (I) was the worst. 

One weekend in particular he was really cluelessly hamming things up with I really want to take you here, I've got big plans tonight, I can't tell you about it but you'll love it, etc and I WAS SURE this weekend was it. But, as it was and is and ever shall be (in my mind at the time), that weekend ended the same as all the rest. Ignition off, love you, goodnight, BYE BYE. 

I was dying a little bit on the inside.

You can go right ahead and hate me now because I recognize how completely dumb this was. But it was really coming from the best of places! I just was ready to start. And waiting/patience/meekness are not my strong suits. You can pray for me.

But apart from my psychotic episodes post-weekends, I could get right back into happy-go-lucky me mode at the start of the week. I knew he would propose on a weekend, because that was really the only time we had. So, once that weekend had checked out to be a strictly non-proposal weekend, I just sort of moved on.

It was a Monday and on Monday's he came over to my family's house for dinner. And I should have known. My mom was in a dress and a full face of makeup. She made a cake.

We had dinner and went up to my room afterwards. And I promise you, there was no engagement on my mind. So when I walked into my bedroom and Kirby shut the door behind me and started to weep, I thought something was terribly, terribly wrong. And when he continued to weep and get down on his knees, I assumed that he was collapsing to the ground in agony. So, naturally, I followed him to the ground, bracing this shoulders with my hands as we got on our knees together. (*The retelling of this makes me laugh so hard it's a eeennsy bit tricky to even type it out). I searched his face for clues and he just cried.

Between sobs he said I...love...you...so...much.

I remember thinking, OK- he loves me, so he isn't ending this, and he has been here all night so I would have known if someone had died. But what could it be?? (Honestly, death was the only think I could think of to justify what was happening)

And then there was a ring.

And there we were, both on our knees, in my little bedroom, my eyes jetting from ring to Kirby, ring to Kirby, ring to Kirby, trying to piece together what had actually just happened. And then I realized the tears were happy, overwhelmed tears. And that nothing was wrong. And that I was on my knees, too.

And so I said yes. (And we laughed, obvi)

And then I heard my brother tell us to come out. He was on the other side of my door with a video camera in hand, where he had been the whole time. Then we ate that cake that my mom had made.

*The best*

Crying disclaimer*
*I feel like I owe Kirby a crying disclaimer. He is definitely a sensitive guy but not in the he gets his feelings hurt way. He is never fussy (like me), and I cry way more than him, but he does have some sure-fire cries over a handful of things and they are (mostly)...
- proposing
- getting married
- babies being born
- Friday Night Lights
- The One Shining Moment montage at the end of the NCAA Tournament
- Gus Johnson (THE SLIPPER STILL FITS!)
- That Macklemore song about The Mariners and Dave Niehaus

So, basically, it's all justified.

If you haven't figure it out by now, he is the best.
xoxoxo