Into My Messy Room

One of my dear friends got married a few years ago.  At the rehearsal dinner, I knew as matron of honor I needed a speech of some sort, sharing, etc.  I don't really do that well in front of adults.  Kids yes. Adults, not so much.  I get nervous, a little school girl giggly, shaky, wet spots under the arms and all.  It is what it is.

So when I stood up and realized I had nothing planned to say, I improvised.  I had spent that entire week planning my daughter's 4th birthday (which was the day of the wedding, party was planned the day after the wedding, family coming into town craziness), preparing for the wedding and chasing around my toddler, then I opened my mouth half way afraid of what crazy might come out. 

No one can critique your history with a person, so I first went into how we went to high school together, etc.  Then I went into our relationship.  I used a phrase that the minister liked and used in the sermon the next day.  (What can I say?  I don't love math but imagery tickles my fancy pants).  This is what I said...

You might keep your house fairly clean.  You know, where people can visit, stop by, walk around and not trip.  Say, oh what a nice well kept house you have.  Decent to the eyes.  But then, doesn't everyone have that one room.  Maybe it's a closet.  Maybe it's your master bedroom where all the junk gets dumped to clean up for the party.  Or maybe you're a rock star cleaner and it's your "junk drawer".  But it's a mess.  Maybe it's stuff you haven't gotten around to unpacking so it's full of boxes.  Maybe it's full of luggage.  (Where the heck do you even store luggage?  Christmas gifts are going in ours this year for little girls who might snoop!)  

No one goes in that room.  You tell your kids, "Honey, you can play anywhere with your friends, but don't take them to that room, please. I haven't gotten around to cleaning that one up yet."  (And within all this pleasantry you know full well this room might stay that messy for a while.  Even if you had the time to do it who really wants to??  And you might be slightly afraid that the friend from that "clean house" will tell her mama what she saw...)

And so, no one is allowed to go in because it's filled with baggage.  This friend had been in my dirty room.  She had seen it through the years.

It has clutter.  It's unkempt.  It could potentially be embarrassing.  It's full of stuff I have no idea of what to do with.  Sometimes I walk in that room and throw my hands up saying it's too much for me to handle. So I close that door.  And I typically don't open it to anyone, unless that one or two people who know about it ask to go in.  And sometimes I let them if I'm feeling brave.  (So my story at the dinner ended a few paragraphs ago and didn't have all these details, but I continue with my imagery...)

However, on another note, maybe one day, you decide to show a friend that room, and low and behold they laugh.  They judge you. Or worse, they tell someone else and use your name.  And you're thinking, you have a messy room in your house too!  (Pause here to say I've been burned before.  Chances are you have too.  Maybe it was in middle school when you liked that boy and your girlfriend told the whole class.  Maybe it was in adulthood when you had that problem that maybe someone had "diarrhea of the mouth" and just blurted out your dirt, personal problem, etc to other people, their kids, whoever didn't need to know it.  It happens.  And usually those people don't hear anything else from you.)

And then you might realize they might not be close friend material.  They don't need to go in that room again.  It has happened to me.  My progression of sharing with people through the years has led to sharing with a smaller and smaller amount of people.  (Until I blog about it and then, bam!  Lots and lots of people are partying in my dirty room!  Oh yeah!)

But I've been in other people's messy rooms before, too.  A couple of years ago, someone told me something so personal about them that they were embarrassed to even get it out of their mouths.  It carried shame for her.  (Let me tell you shame is not from God.  God does not shame us.)  It was filled with pain.  I was heart broken for her.  At the time, I hope I offered understanding, love.  But, having been burned before, I felt like I needed to send a message.  And maybe the fact that this precious person had been a little tipsy that night made me realize that I needed to say something.  Because maybe she never remembers saying it at all, but I just needed to.  "I just want you to know I cried for you on the way home.  I treat secrets like fine china.  Your words are safe with me." 

And so we share our messy rooms sometimes.  And we are filtered when we do so.  Because as my husband says, "You gotta hold your cards close."  But I hope through the years that we all find someone or a couple of someones to share that mess with.  Perhaps someone who can offer prayer, support and a little tough love with the things that need cleaning.  Maybe a little nudge to encourage you to be brave.  And tackle that room.  

I'm OK. Really.

So a few days ago I decided to take a little detox from Facebook and social media.  (I coined this the "social media detox". Dr. Oz if you're reading, quote me please.)

Before we go too far on this little rabbit trail, this blog does not count.  It is my let-my-hair-down-unbutton-my-pants hobby.  So, not the blog.  But yes to Facebook.  And grandma here has never figured out how to "do" twitter so, what the hey, twitter too.  And not my phone.  (Although I'm not instantly getting back to texts if I'm busy, and sometimes that means not until the end of the day.) And not email.  (I try desperately to detox from email and then I miss somebody's sign ups and I end up bringing something stupid like sandwich meat and cheese to the picnic for 30 people.  Dang those folks with data plans getting all the good easy stuff first!  Grr!)  Well, ok, not Pinterest either.  Pinterest enhances Carla.  It's like my personal assistant, go to for all questions, health stuff, etc.  It's positive and encouraging.  It teaches me something.  It's my coffee.  Not giving it up.    

And I thought I would explain in words for whoever the heck cares.  (If you don't, feel free to stop right about now...)

I mentioned on the phone tonight with my mom about my "detox" (quotes because this is a new detox animal.)  Her response, "Oh yea.  I wondered about that post but I didn't know if I should ask you.  I asked your sister if she understood what was going on and she didn't know either."  Family confusion.

So, I'm OK.  Really.  And with a little explaining my mom agreed that the world is all right with Carla.  And after talking to her about an "issue" today it really is.  (No matter how old I get I still need you, mom!)

This is why I did it.  I'm not some moral high roller for doing it.  I care.  I care about my sanity and mental health.  I have girls I don't want them to pretend play "facebook" so we're just pulling away a bit.  (Third person.  I'm fine. I do it all the time.)  And did I mention I have little people with me all day long, observing my every move?  And that their education is on me, only me?  No pressure, really.  (These are the things you do not think about before having kids or really deciding to homeschool. For us it was in that order.)

And, I pray my words don't sound condemning.  I might be detoxing from "people" too.  (Quotes totally unnecessary but studious.  And yes, detoxing is a word.)  And yes I have a few Facebook friends and no one I really want to get rid of so that's not an option for me.

1.  I am tired of seeing pictures of peoples' meals and dogs.  I am a regular poster of all things terrible for you, as in my cakes, desserts, etc.  I also have been known to post pictures of my detox drinks.  Because they're pretty.  They make me feel like I'm doing something to fit into my fall pants better.  Yeah me.  (Where's my gold star, Dr. Oz?) But there comes a time when I've hidden enough people from my newsfeed and left the others that I really can handle at the moment  think I am close to and I'm stuck with dog pictures.  I'm allergic.  You need to feel me here.  They're people's babies.  I know.  I'm just done.  (Read below, this is temporary.  I am healing myself from this.  No worries.)

2.  I am tired of seeing pictures of people's vacations, date nights, time away from kids, trophy stuff.  It's great to celebrate with those folks.  I'm just done right now.  I'm tired.  We've only been schooling 3 weeks.  It will get better.  I'll post some pix from our March trip around public school test prep time when we're done with our curriculum.  (And at the end of this detox I'm sure I'll raise my latte to you mamas who dropped your kids off at school and have the house to yourself now and keep posting about your said lattes, reading, loving life, free time, etc.)

3.  Facebook is filled with useless knowledge.  And the useful stuff (money saving groups, homeschooling groups, people actually posting about something important, etc.) is hidden.  I have to find the good stuff.  It takes too long.  I get tired.  I get distracted.  Then, when I could have run a 5K pushing my kids on their bikes (not really but I aim high) I am sitting looking at somebody's something on their page.  Where's Waldo is not fun at my age.  Or any age, really.

4.  I have to say, I'm tired of people complaining.  Complaining about how expensive kids are (birth control).  Complaining about their energy level. (Get off facebook and do something.)  Complaining they want their kids in school they can't handle them.  (You're blessed.  Go hug them they're healthy.)  Complaining about the weather, Ben Affleck as Batman,  Kim and Kayne's baby named "North West", polar ice caps melting, Duke vs UNC when we all know the truth- the sky is Carolina blue, folks.  See here, I'm complaining about people complaining.  It's a terrible mess.  Unproductive negativity.

And today, today, was great.  It was good weather.  Bonus.  It was freeing.  Amazing.  And I will likely return at some point because I usually love to connect to people.  And I'll promise to love your dogs, cats, and other strange pets (you wish would kick over like your 4 hermit crabs) when I return.  (The last one might just apply to me.)  And I'll celebrate with your vacation pictures and sun kissed skin and fabulous get aways with your husband, friends, new cars, newly constructed body parts, delicious meals, exciting recipes, new tattoos etc.  I'll raise my glass to things going well.  Positivity.  Growth.  Love.

Just not now.  Because I'm detoxing.  And Dr. Oz and I take this seriously.

Sinking the Titanic

My oldest is fascinated by the Titanic.  We have books she reads, quotes the facts, etc.  Last night she told me that God allowed people who love him to die on the Titanic.  (Wow.) They were in heaven now, and when she gets there she has a lot of questions about the ship and their experiences.  Yes.  Fascination.  Plans for heaven.  Child like faith.  I love it and thankful to hear my daughter's heart before me.  Strengthening me.  I love how God works.

She gets angry when I mention the public library.  My suggestions of borrowing instead of buying are shot down instantaneously.  Their "lending not keeping" policy offends her.  She *might* struggle with hoarding a little.  (She *might* get this from both her parents who have gone through extensive therapy together over the past 11 years to accept the process of getting rid of things.  We are under construction, so to speak.  Right now I sit around piles of mail and homeschool books at my feet.  Sadly, I couldn't care less.  We had a good day.  People over stuff, until your people trip and fall over your stuff and then you have yourself a situation.)

And while we're on the topic of hoarding, or having issues with piles of "special" things (they're all special- so hands off!) laying around, I am reminded of a story.  Once upon a time I had a toddler and a newborn baby.  It was a while back, but I still remember doing laundry and it never really getting "finished".  I readily admit I fed and bathed and played with children.  My house suffered, but is not complaining right now.  Precious years, I tell you.  Priorities.  

Well I rolled into bed one night forgetting the laundry piles.  So I scooted them away from my side.  My husband also rolled into bed and scooted the said pile towards the middle.  It stayed there for a while.  Between us.  And maybe this happened a few times.  You know what that's called?  Barrier method.  Yep.  Husband does not think that is funny but survival mode is what we were in.  And it worked.  

And today as all my clothes got washed, dried, folded and put away, I was reminded that things may be difficult for a while, but life is constantly in motion.  Change happens all around us.  Certain things do get easier.  But at the time it often doesn't appear that way.  The second child does teach you that you will get sleep eventually and your body may be different, but your heart is changed more.  

But in the moment of other, less joyful, difficult things, that don't include wet baby kisses, it's hard to grasp it.  And I have this phenomena.  I like to call it "the grey crayon" issue.  You see, we're all given this box of colorful crayons.  (Crayola is my favorite, but whatever floats your boat really.)  

And if you've watched a child color, you use all the crayons in one sitting.  Your picture must be rainbow, colorful, lived out to the fullest.  Somewhere we realize bad things happen.  Maybe a string of bad things.  We pick up that dreaded grey crayon and start coloring.  We ignore the box of options before us.  What starts with a small area has turned into a larger area.  Our focus remains grey and on that part of the page.  Before you know it, you look at that should be beauty of a picture, or life, and it's all grey.  And you're like, "What am I going to do?"  Have you had this?  Because I have.  

So what do you do with that grey crayon?  It has to stay in the box because the OCD readers will tell you it must be a complete set.  And grey is a part of our human makeup.  So in talking with friends about my coined "grey crayon issue" and experiencing it myself, let's talk about why we can't focus on the grey.  

You cannot hold the grey crayon too long because there is hope in the other colors.   And hope is stronger than any emotion we have because it holds a promise like none other.  

There is hope in the form of yellow and orange sunsets, promising God's mercies are new every morning.  There are blues in the form of dreams come true, ocean waters, Jesus calming storms.  The tans and the creams are like seashells- opportunity, treasure found, uniquely made by our Creator.  The greens of spring, new growth, the smell of freshly cut grass in summer.  The reds of a quiet Christmas, gifts wrapped in velvet ribbons, the passion of Easter, the blood shed for us.  White, which seems useless, becomes meaningful to a sinner- symbolically reminding us of linen, purity, forgiveness, no shame for those who are in Christ Jesus.  The purples of royalty, robes, clothed with Christ Jesus, adopted into his family.  Gift righteousness.  Gratitude.  

What you get when you look at the colors is gratitude.  Scripture affirming that you are not stuck with only the grey crayon. And with each color you release the tension holding it, with each verse affirming God's love for you, you begin to see opportunity.  You begin to see hope.  This is a change process.  And it takes time and practice, but healing does come.         

You might be a great ship like the Titanic.  (Actually you probably are awesome and rock it out every day.)  But the waters will never consume you in Jesus.  Because he teaches us to walk on them stepping out in faith, not be overcome.  And that's a promise.  

PS:  This is a powerful video you might enjoy.  http://vimeo.com/71765067

Ta Da!

Last week I took my youngest to watch her friend at a ballet performance. At first the little girls danced, all finished their part with a big "ta da!" It was cute. They were off beat but we all didn't care, right? As a previous dancer, I don't know when it happens, but at some point being off beat is not cute anymore. It becomes awkward. Dance experience and needing to know the foundational moves are important.

So when the older teenage girls got on stage and performed their pieces from Swan Lake and the music malfunctioned, we all felt bad. They started all linking arms, standing in position, ready. They barely heard the starting music- equipment malfunction- but they kept going. Their point shoes all tapping in synchronization like a group of graceful performance horses. You could see they were struggling. It wasn't easy. But we were impressed. And they kept up until the music was fixed and restarted. The second go round looked as great as before though.

Their secret? They were counting in their heads and on certain beats they knew to move. Their teacher was a great one- she instructed them to not use the music for cues, but to internalize and count. And listen to each other. To keep up the rhythm inside of them.

And today on the way to church I had a faith teaching with my littlest. Last Christmas day she prayed for God to enter her heart, to live inside of her. (But made very clear that he not hurt when he went in.) So she's curious. Where is he? He must be small, right? I want to HEAR him! I want him to come out and just hold him in my little hand, and I want to talk to him. I want to play with him.

I told her he can't come out. (My oldest pointed out that he really can come out when we get to heaven, and see him face to face. The theology of all of this is fuzzy to me, so I just let it go.) But she can hear him. But we have to slow down because he never yells. He doesn't push forcefully, but is a quiet, gentle, strength, the source of all love ever existed.

So since he's quiet, we must quiet ourselves. He speaks through the Bible- direct words from him. He speaks through people, although that one is tricky sometimes because people can say tricky things in the name of Jesus sometimes. But he will tell us if what people are saying don't match with what he says, and we need to always ask him if that's what he wants for us. And nature reflects his beauty, cycles, intricate details.

And so what happens when the music gets quieter, and your internal rhythm is the only thing to fall back on? What about when God is silent, or when he says no? We know God doesn't answer all our prayers the way we want him to. I've heard it said that sometimes a "no" answer from God is him giving us what we would have asked for if we knew what he knew.

And viewing my relationship with him like a genie in a bottle doesn't match up with his character, love, presence, grace. He is not a vending machine. He wants a relationship. And we need a loving father because we are sinners. We have separation from him. He covers us in his righteousness when we come to this realization and ask him to humbly enter in.

And sometimes he deepens our relationship by resisting us in prayer. He goes into stealth mode ordaining struggle as a part of this process. He quiets his great powers because he knows at the other end we come out more humbled, more realizing of his great love.

So coming to the cross gives us spectacles of faith. To see the horses and chariots of angels we constantly have encamped around us. To see the depth and the height and the width of his great love. (Can I repeat...) He is constantly encamped around those who are in him. Those who love him. (Now that gives me courage.)

In the past I've wanted to "capture" God. Capture his love, beauty, but let's not get into that crazy Bible banging because those folks are weird. Over the top. But we only find the freedom when we are captured by God. If we knew we were blind we would seek him for sight.

It boils down to his LOVE. My pastor said the goal of every one of his sermons was for people to leave in awe of what God has done for us. And that only God can remove faith blinders. He said a taste, just a taste, of God's love will be more than a thousand Hebrew words you can memorize. Theology is amazing but it reflects a God who we stand in awe of.  And while I love learning, I'll just take more Jesus, less puff-me-up-I-know-all-about-escatatology please.  (And thank you God our church reflects this and is faith in practice.)

Today we took communion as a church. Reminded we are covered with righteousness. He washes away performance, pressure, lofty knowledge, and any other thing we believe we need to stand before him or false crutches to lean on. He just wants us. True love. Lasting love. I-can't-even-believe-it-as-I-type-it love. My "ta da's!" saved for him alone.  And when the music fades and I'm listening to my rhythm in him, I know he's working all things towards my good.

Dear Doctor Oz

Dear Doctor Oz,

I'll just jump into this aggressively.  I love the heck out of you.  Like any TV relationship, I don't always agree with you, but you are amazing to my standards.  And with little TV time, I set the bar high.  You have women squealing and swooning.  It is what it is.  I would *say* I did those things but you are old enough to be my dad and I'm happily married to the best man ever.  Can we just say we're special friends?

Ok then, my friend, I am on Day 3 of your three day detox.  It has been quite the adventure.  I wasn't sure if I was a detox kinda girl.  But you assured me that we all need a little detoxing.  And I believed you.

So I started this adventure, texting my husband at work asking for the blessing of his presence in this thing, so to speak, and testing the theory that he *might* not read all of my correspondences during the day all that closely.  And sure enough, my theory was correct because he shot me a quick "ok" message back.  So immediately I swooped up my four year old and we ventured to the local Super Target for what seemed like crazy people food.  (WHO consumes 6! cucumbers in three days?  Apparently us, weirdos...)  The cost was manageable, and yes, I got strange looks from the checkout girl.  No biggie, we were on a mission.

I suppose I should tell you why I didn't finish the detox.  Day one, day one was amazing.  I lost 2 pounds automatically, which you said was water, and I'm cool with that.  Inflammation down the toilet, baby.  I felt more energetic.  Lighter.  I ballroom danced light to my feet throughout the day.  I Mary Poppin's-ed the kids clean up.  It was magical.

Day 2 things started unraveling, to put nicely. I'll start with my husband.  (And I may need to remove this if he doesn't feel like, well, sharing his detox journey.)  My husband is my rock.  He is clear-headed, even the nights he thinks he can stay up past our old people bedtime.  (Don't worry, I'm on it.  What started out as newlyweds as "honey, please go to bed on time.  You are important."  has changed to, "honey, you are keeping me up.  You're going to make me look OLD when we're old feeling young.  Actually, even if I stay looking young, your poor sleep will make you look OLD which will make me your OLD wife."  I think my methods are getting kinder.  Gentler.  Perhaps less vain, more compassionate.  Don't you think?)

But Dr. Oz, he lost his cool day 2.  Now I'm not saying that I was elated on the outside, but my heart smiled.  Because I am usually the one making a fool out of myself being crazy, and well, he didn't have it together.  I think the best part from his day was when he just got super confused with people, looked confused, and had a hard time tracking in conversation.  Or maybe when he went with our Bible Study to Chick-fil-A and forgot everyones names but one person who was lucky.  (And so proud of him he turned down the chicken sandwich and ate grilled chicken.  Actually forget I typed that as that's not on the plan.  Ok, well, I ate sandwich meat that day too. I do not throw him under the bus.  He is my sugar daddy.  I need him. We derailed together.)  His confusion continued today and his co-workers thought maybe he should just eat something.  His mom, as they talked today, asked if he was ok.  She does not know of this ridiculousness wonderful process and we'll just keep it that way for now.  Details from that conversation were sketchy and at best put back together with team work- both of us using our heads.  We still don't understand certain aspects, like if some parts he dreamed up or made up?  We just don't know.  We are confused.  Foggy.  We are holding off on important decisions until it lifts.  We play safe.  Which leads me to my original destination...

Day 2 was confusing for me, too.  Maybe it was because I had a few things on my plate and 6 children over for a playdate all at once, or homeschooled my usual routine and crammed too much into the day, or maybe it was because I was not consuming enough water.  Well, I walked around saying, "huh?" with a confused look on my face. All day long.  I did the detox bath every night faithfully and slept like a baby beside my baby sleeping husband.  (I only got him in the bath once though.  I know.  I talked to him about it.  He just isn't a bath man.  Is there such thing as a detox shower? Could you get back to me on that one?)

Day 3 was a bit disturbing though.  I felt sick.  I had a headache.  I was, ahem, irritable.  And then I decided to carry out my usual plans despite the detox effects because I am a steel magnolia.  I fight til the bitter end. Homeschooling done, smoothie lunch in my favorite cup out the door to meet my mom shopping.  I headed out in my husbands truck (country music optional but always welcomed) and started to feel dizzy.  Things were spinning.  I began to freak out.  I pulled over and did something, well, off plan.  I purchased french fries, consumed them, and a sweet tea.  (It's the south.  You may not understand this.) Did it rid me of my low blood sugar?  Nope.  Sadly, I was stuck.  I felt like I might have been drunk and could not drive.  I called for backup- my superman husband and he came and rescued me.  While I waited, I tried to grocery shop.  There is no use in wasting precious alone time.  I just needed a couple of things.  While walking sideways and almost into traffic I texted my husband that I was unable to walk, too.  Impaired from the dang smoothies.  I have never heard of such a thing.  He drove me home.  I slept for 2.5 hours.

And, well, let me tell you about dinner, which delighted my husband and children beyond words.  Bacon wrapped hot dogs.  (You read that right.)  Sweet potatoes, broccoli and pickles.  (Yes, pickles.)  It is Paleo friendly and fits my body.  Sometimes I just need to wrap my lips around a nice juicy steak, ya know?  Rip into a pack of beef jerky.  Bacon wrap whatever I can get my hands on. And grunt.  (In a southern lady way, of course...)  And guess what?  We are all happy and the confusion is lifting.  Hurrah for victory.  Paleo style.

I need more sodium.  I need to actually chew and enjoy my few Paleo friendly carbs.  My teeth need some action.  My body cannot handle you.  I mean I can't handle your detox.  (Awkward.)  So I happily am 3 pounds lighter, have eliminated grains and sugar from my diet the past three days and I'm running with it.  Dr. Oz (can I call you Mehmet? I've shared so much...), no sugar no flour of any kind for 6 months.  It's set before me.  I figure this will take us until Valentines Day.  Yes people think it's strange.  I'm actually a bit strange.  But I know, you, Mehmet Oz, are encouraging me through the TV.  I have your approval.  We are strange together.

You helped me get here.  Even though I failed to finish, I did it.  I hope to never consume that many liquids again for the rest of my life.  Actually the detox sucked.  But it was good.  Hurt so good.  Onto my next goal.  Mehmet, you are amazing.

Sincerely yours,
Carla

Two Birds, One Stone

One of my moms favorite quotes is, "killing two birds with one stone." Literally, sounds terrible.  Birds are cute.  They are graceful and maybe a little innocent.  (Until they poop on your head- happened to me in Spain 6 times!  Usually around the catedrals.) But figuratively, my life is formed on those six words.

I tend to be fairly practical, trying to get several things done at once.  And when practicality doesn't take over, I'm determined.  Example:  The month of April I got tired of our food budget inflating itself and making my categories go haywire.  (notice blame shifting.)  I was also tired of cooking dinner.  So...I enlisted the help of my best friend and advisor of all important things, Pinterest, and we found a solution:  the crockpot.  So, I shopped, prepped and froze crockpot meals one morning for the entire month of May.  I did. Every single day we used that thing.  We were delightfully in budget.  And, all our meals had the consistency of nursing home food.  And I permanently scarred my children who run from it.  They run and say, "Oh mom!  I thought we were done with those meals!!" Haha.  Nope girls, I have lots of crockpot tricks up my mama sleeve.  I even cracked my crock that month.  Second one I've done this too.  (Costco run anyone?)

So as the months have progressed It has come to my attention that I need a new challenge.  I thrive on these ridiculous awesome goals and run with them.  Mine starting today:  Dr. Oz's three day detox.  (Before I continue, let me tell you about Dr. Oz and I. We're tv friends.  I love him.  Me and all the other 50-something menopausal women who faithfully watch alongside with me.  It's ok.  He really is wonderful, giving advice to all the ladies (and gents). The women swoon over him but really he seems so genuine.)  So I'm not telling you this because rah rah Carla!  I'm such a health nut.  It's just that, well, I need to improve my eating.  

We eat a fairly balanced diet.  I won't bore you with details, but let's just say I need a reset.  My energy level is down.  I feel sluggish.  My blood work from my recent physical looks great.  That leaves a couple of things remaining- diet and sleep.  And after the three day detox comes the fabulous no sugar no grains no dairy challenge.  Mine, however, is planned into phases and will continue as long as my body says so, which will be after the 30 day mark most folks stop at.  (I'm not overly righteous here.  It just fit with my goals and the plan I found online, past experience, etc.) 

My precious amazing husband agreed to the initial three day detox (because I asked him while he was busy at work and really that's the best time to do such a thing) and I apologize to my friends I've made plans with in the next few days.  It might get a little crazy up in here.  I will endeavor to keep my whining and grumpiness or feelings of exhilarating at a minimum. The kiddos- they will benefit from the extra veggies but this is for mama, and daddy if he chooses to accept the challenge.  They will still maintain their healthy diet.  And I don't know about my husband long term.  (ok long term he's married to my crazy for life baby but not sure about his stance on the second phase.)

I am no stranger to food challenges, having been gluten free and strict Paleo for a combined total of 3.5 years.  (Yes, the half year is important and duly noted.)  And I'm not saying this will be easy. And I realize that elimination diets are controversial. but I like to push this here body. And I need energy for my sweet girls.  And I don't like the idea of reliance on anything but the main thing- Jesus.  (And coffee.  But there will be a day...)

So far today it's been fine.  Two smoothies down, two to go.  My Vitamix has been my bestie already.  The smoothies, they taste great.  I made cashew milk with my nut bag this morning after soaking my cashews overnight.  (Did I mention I swing to the hippie side a lot with eating?)  The nut bag hasn't gotten a lot of action in the past few months as we have eaten more cow's milk products but today was the day.  It got used and cleaned and ready for later. 

So here's to breaking bad habits and detox!  Smoothies up!  

Shop till You Drop

Our trip to Costco today was delightful.  Seemed like every Durham citizen was there. My children weaved in and out and in front of grocery carts, making folks stop for them and yea, it's easier to go without them but really not as exciting.  Like sit on the edge of you seat pull them out of traffic fun times.

If you weren't familiar with Costco policies, there is a $100 cover charge.  Just so you know.  Fill up your purse or fanny pack before you go with Benjamins because you'll need them.  You will for sure find things you never knew you needed.  Things you never knew you wished you had.  Like a bear skin rug for the foot of your bed.  Tried my best to convince my hubs we needed it for our homeschool room.  Can you imagine the homeschool goodness we'd have with that thing?  Sure it's a bachelor purchase.  All three (four when daddy's home) of us would sprawl across that thing and do some math. Woo!  I would invite you over for some sweet tea on that thing.  Yep I would.

So my husband found some shoes he liked.  As he was trying them on, I was eating kale chip samples and offering up my two cents in between bites and pulling kids out of oncoming traffic.  He loves shopping in stores with cement floors.  It does something to him.  He's happier. It sparks some creative force in him that I love.  It is the only place I can get him to shop with me.  And when we go, it's a good time to make him get stuff for himself.  The man got two(!) pairs of work shoes for himself today!  That's amazing!  Because he has a stool where he works but he's sat in it maybe one time in five years.  And I know his shoes are well passed worn out.  He works 12 hour shifts.  He's a strong hard working man who needs good shoes.

And I love Costco people.  The older people always doting on my girlies.  "Aren't they cute?"  "You must love pink honey!" And I usually see someone I grew up with, would like to avoid, or get at least one hug from someone. And I'll talk to anyone.  You go to Costco at lunch time and you come hungry.  There are good gracious samples to be had.  Feed the kids, shop, it's wonderful.  We won't need toilet paper or apple juice for a couple of months.  (Unless we drink all the apple juice too quickly and the toilet paper runs out because nature called too frequently.)  Love it.

So the bread lady caught my eye today.  She was an older lady delighted by her bread samples.  I walk up and she says in an accent I still can't identify (too much time away from my precious ESL kiddos I tell you...), "I love my bread.  I keep my pantry stocked full of it.  When I was little during the war, we didn't have any bread.  So the only bread I got was when I visited my grandmothers house.  Every time she had some bread for me.  All these years later I realize she saved the end pieces for me.  She sacrificed because I loved it."

Then she went on to tell me that she had carried on her grandmothers legacy of care and taken care of her husbands parents, proudly saying they lived a long life, and then her husband who had passed, too.  She was at a loss when she got home from work and there was no one to take care of, no one to bathe, she said.  She was delighted to be serving.  Serving bread samples for minimum wage at Costco.  For busy hungry people.  Five minutes later we left but I was reminded of how thankful I need to be for God's provision and I loved her.  She knew sacrifice because she had lived it.

Everyone has a story. My husband is always amazed how I get into people's stories so quickly sometimes.  He says, "Carla, you don't care who they are.  You just prefer people that are real."  I said thank you.  Because that's all I can be.  And this blog is the real deal.  My friend said today that she read my blog for a couple of hours and she felt like she had hung out with me.  I am real.  This is real.  And sometimes I amaze myself what I am being vulnerable to discuss.  But courageously living and sharing my heart.  Scary and real.

People fascinate me.  I ask lots of questions.  But also, people are lonely.  I don't care who you are, when the walls come down, people need validating.  Sometimes people just need a listening ear. And if you truly care, stories start a comin'.  Give me your real, honest, vulnerable self, now that's a great starting point. I love you already.

I went to a Bulls game the other night, and bumped into a friend from Bible Study.  Her husband is a children's minister at our church so they are professionals I guess you could say:). She asked about how I was doing, and my hot mess just started a flowing.  Her response?  I understand.  Me too.  We stood there knowing that we can't fix all that needs to be fixed in this world and admitted to each other we don't have it together.  We shared, we connected, we agreed.  Agreed in the One who promises to make all things right.  In his timing.  

Even when things start to feel shaky, we are in His strong arms.  He doesn't promise all things that happen to us will be good.  But he promises to work all things together for good in the saving mercy of Jesus.  This side of heaven, I'll take it.  Because without him, I'm in the dark.  My light shines on.  
And I'm going to buy that rug tomorrow and visit the bread lady. 

It's Like Rain On Your Wedding Day...

I wear yoga pants.  I have never attempted yoga. (Honesty here: I don't think I was made for yoga.  But the yoga pant, yes ma mm!  All over that one, folks.)  Ironic.

I wear a triathlon bathing suit top.  I have never attempted a tri and nor will I ever...probably, never (?). However I did run through the shallow part of the pool like Baywatch today. (In my mind...it was more like a water buffalo but my friend got a holler out of it so we're all good.) My top- it supports the girls.  I appreciate that special hug every time I wear it.  It's cozy like a good friendship.  (I bought another on clearance last week...same one, different color. This might be a sign of either good workmanship or I'm getting old.  Nope... not old, just an excellent product.  That settles it!)  Ironic.

The most important part of my day was perhaps not the teaching I did, as important as I think education is, or that I crammed in homeschool, two playdates (museum and swimming, with lots of "races" as in do it faster wear yourself out girlies.  I am trying several efforts and experiments to get rid of the "Whack a Mole" game I've been doing at bedtime with my girlies.  Not cute.  Go back to bed.  I love you mean it but you really need to go back into your bed or here goes your dessert for tomorrow kinda nights.  Whack! Whew.  It's Shark Week, yo.  Let mama have some fun!  Now go to bed.  Love you mean it.  Whack! PS: Sadness and heart crusher:  Megalodon from Shark Week a few nights ago was fake.  I feel betrayed.  Moving on...)

Nope the most important part was maybe a three minute conversation in the car, running late to the museum might I add, with my little girl about heaven.  It was the "I'm sorry" from my harsh tone of voice when I was irritated or hurrying them along like cattle.

It was explaining to my littles that heaven is for real.  There is a God, and no my child, you may not take the rocket on display at the museum to go see him.  As delightful as that would be, you only get to heaven by dying.  (Gasp...did I just say that?  Ugh.  Death.  And then my 7 year old peanut gallery child offers that you can almost die and see him and come back and write a book.  Yes, perhaps that has happened.  And don't think about doing that anytime soon because I might cry typing this as I almost did in the car. No sirree we are not going there.)

We teach our kids God is good.  We pray before meals that he does in fact give us everything we need, and then some.  (Food is not actually provided by Target.  Really by farmers and perhaps by machines if you're eating Cheetos.  But real money from real jobs we earn to buy the food that other hands have prepared because we all sit at God's feet with open mouths regardless of if we praise him or not.)

We teach that he heals.  We teach that he is the only thing we need.  And sometimes I ask him, with my little finite human brain, "Lord, you mean for me to learn that from them too, right?"  

The same Holy Spirit that is at work in me is at work in them, too.  Children are special.  Jesus said, "Let the little children come to me."  We are told to have faith like a child.

And I'm reminded of a story a friend told me recently about a master violinist named Joshua Bell who recently played in Washington.  He has one of the most expensive violins made- 3.5 million dollars.  Well, he agreed to participate in an experiment where he played one of the most intricate pieces for 45 minutes in a busy subway, in regular clothes, where thousands of people traveled through.  Master musician.  Beautiful chords only he could perform so well.  Six people stopped to listen.  No applause or recognition.  Some hurriedly threw in some money and walked on.  Five of them who stopped were children, of whom their parents were dragging them along to hurry up.  (Like cattle...I can relate sadly.)

The other was a man and when asked why he stopped, he looked around in disbelief and said, "I stopped because I paid $100 to see him perform last night!"  He was shocked that no one cared while he searched for something to get his autograph.

And here I am.  I stay home with my kids.  I homeschool them.  I am around them most of my day.  And I forget.  All the time.

And I'm here, but I am missing out.  

He is in the small moments.  He is in the conversations.  He is the rhythm in our lives.  Our heartbeat.  From the cellular level to swinging the planets around.  He is at work at all times.  He wants us to
s l o w  d o w n.  Take a breather.  Squat to eye level.  Look them square in the eyes and say,

"You are important.  This other stuff, well, you won't remember it.  You are small.  This moment is small.  But these small moments add up to something significant. You are God's handiwork.  You are my significant."  

It's not meeting deadlines, doing my agenda.  (I really need to shower as we speak from the Baywatch water buffaloing nonsense at the pool today.)  It's not even the "good stuff".  As in I'm a good mom, sure, cause I do all this c-r-a-p (spelled in case your kids are around...) but none of it matters in the end, unless I'm taking a breather and loving.  Reflecting on his glory.  Praising him, sharing his love and slowing down to see his beauty.  His creation.  Past some one's rough, hard coating and into their sadness, uncertainty, pain, connecting heart level, as we are made to connect.  Rejoicing with others as small as our children and over something as "insignificant" as an ant carrying it's food for the day, or that the color of the sunset looks like cotton candy.

Beauty.  Creation.  Living.

Re framing our lives through his lens.

And I need this blog entry more than anyone.  So I write to remember, remind myself of beauty moments, and truly live.

Love to you all,
Carla

Welcome Back!

So this post might be wa wa waaaaa.  Boring.  But, we homeschool and I gotta teach these kids.  So full speed ahead, we have begun this year.  And, I am not complaining, at least out loud, about all the work.  Because my 7 year old hugged me and thanked me for homeschooling her today.  Our first day together for this year.  Ended with a kiss and a hug.  She does this often, and it keeps my heart in check.  SOOO...

Why am I writing this blog entry?  Well, we had an experience last spring.  My oldest was told by a friend who attends public school, "You don't know as much as I do.  You do homeschool.  You aren't as far along as I am.  My parents have more education than your parents."  (The last of which isn't true, might I add. Not that Jesus looks at the educated any differently, just thought I'd set the record straight because they just don't give those degrees away...blood, sweat, tears and student loans can I get an amen?!)

What a smartie, right?  I told my daughter this came from her parents.  No way this child conjured this up on her own.  And, well, I know people wonder what the heck homeschoolers do all day anyway.  Whittle a little stick?  Crochet anyone?  Or just hang out and watch HGTV together?  (Ok, the last one for sure.  But we would partake in our HGTV with public school, too, y'all.) For sure they're all antisocial nerds.  (Whom perhaps colleges are actively pursuing for their work ethic and academic achievements, I might add...)

But I also have folks that read this blog that already homeschool, or want to homeschool, or are just curious what a previous public school teacher with a M.Ed in Literacy is up to, what curriculum we use, or how we spend our days.  The curriculum I mention work.  At least for my crew.  Like Woodcock Johnson scores reflect they work.  I sleep just fine with this curriculum work.  Balanced.  Happy.  Working.  I try to stay several steps ahead of the public school system just in case we enter back in.  You're welcome future teacher of my children.  And I like a good challenge.  Racing is super fun.

I have a 4.5 year old and a 7 year old.  This is what we are up to.  Written as a love letter to each one.  Just the mood I'm in.  Bear with me please.  And no I do not teach everything myself.  Apparently this can be an area of contention for some who homeschool.  As in, do you really homeschool if other people teach your kids?  Again, this is our way we do it, this year, these kids.  I know my limits and my strengths...

For my 7 year old:

Singapore Math:  I love you Singapore Math.  I bought extra items this year:  the Word Problem book and the Test Book.  So we do Math daily.  Unit Tests at the end of each unit.  Word Problems as we progress.  Singapore Math tests the best on Woodcock Johnson, as per our testing administrator last spring.  (FYI:  The Woodcock Johnson is a test administered to children and measures their academic standing in a broad range- math to reading to spelling to writing.  It compares students based on year and month.  We tested our daughter who was 6 years, 10 months.  Her scores compared to others with the same testing year and month.  Yes, a little more expensive than mail order tests, but this is a report card for me and the curriculum we chose.  I don't think it's a reflection on my daughter as much as it is for me.  It gives the child's strengths and weaknesses and we even got confirmation on the choices we made. Worth every penny if you ask me.)

Xtra Math:  Online free math facts taking the student from basic addition to multiplication and division. The child cannot skip and my daughter loves this!  Usually does several "days" work in one sitting.  She's progressed and parents get progress reports via email.  (Did I mention it's free??)

All About Spelling:  I love you AAS.  You rock.  You have a balance of kinesthetic and visual and we stay happy.  This year our's has 27 steps, or 27 weeks.  We do a little each day.  Our review lesson today my 7 year old remembered everything from last year.  Because it has built in review and it exercises so many methods of learning.  Memorizing spelling rules and working with words and dictation.  Mmmm good.  Homeschool yumminess right here.  And, AAS students test really well on The Woodcock Johnson test as per our testing administrator last spring.

First Language Lessons:  Delicious classical education.  Children learn parts of speech from memory and abbreviations and this year my 2nd grader is diagramming sentences.  It works well. Broken into 4 days a week.

I also have a Spectrum workbook for reading comprehension test-type activities.  It has multiple choice so that she gets some experience with bubbling.  Again, just in case we do public school.  End of Grade Tests, yo.  And, we may not continue down this workbook path long, but I want to see how she does.  The classical readings in FLL and WWE (below) are superior to any literacy in public schools so I am NOT concerned with their content.  Balance is the key.  (Don't be offended public school folks, I am just super duper honest and hold my opinion bound tight with my experience.)

Writing With Ease:  Also delicious classical readings that students read and respond to.  (We have been known to laugh out loud with some of them...today's lesson was on a bean that split in two from laughing!  I will bring this up later in conversation and we'll laugh again.  Good stuff.)  Lexile levels last year for the readings were like 4th-5th grade level.  (I have yet to determine this year's levels.  Spare time at a premium right now.) Broken into 4 days a week.  Including summarizing  main passages, dictations, retelling, and married with First Language Lesson material for that week.  So I believe you should use both FLL and WWE together, same level, to reinforce the material.

And..we also work on a Spectrum workbook for writing that is basically more public school like.  Again, just in case we reenter public school.  Writing With Ease is NOT lacking anything, it just moves towards a slightly different direction than public school.  I still use WWE because this does not bother me and in the long run is amazing, but I want her to be more balanced so this year I added this.

History:  Story of the World.  Awesome.  We will cover Nomads to the Fall of Rome this year.  I found some additional things on Pinterest (Hello my name is Carla and I am a Pinterest addict.  But we all eat and learn better so I embrace it:) to assist me.

Science:  Biology homeschool curriculum I already purchased.  It has 10 chapters, so 10 weeks of learning and experiments.  I don't love it, but I will use it for the next 10 weeks to get it done.  From there I will go with what the girls want to study.  She also goes to an enrichment center for Science which is bonus.  We also go to museums, the planetarium, nature walks, library books, and have a microscope kit we like to pull out from time to time.  We love Science so this isn't difficult to get in.

Social Studies:  Again, the enrichment center she goes to covers Social Studies, but at home we cover the states (and capitals), communities, world, etc.  We discuss children in other countries via missionary friends we have abroad and locally, through readings, art, current events, community events.  My mom got her Time for Kids so we read that as well.  Social Studies is life itself...lived in color...so easy for kids to embrace.  I love this.

Spanish:  My beloved university teaches a class for her age centered on Spanish literacy and oral language development.  Speaking, reading, writing.  Bless them.  Although I'm fluent, so nice for someone to take the reigns this year.  Surely she will cover more geography.  If she doesn't learn the months of the year song from my middle school days I will not deny her this beauty.  Uno de enero, dos de febrero, tres de marzo... She will study her vocabulary daily, as part of this class.  Woot!
My hope is to get us volunteering with Spanish speaking community opportunities so I can marry the beautiful language with a concrete experience and relationships.  Probably will happen on our "field trip"days.  More to come...

My 4.5 Year old (attends preschool three mornings a week, too):

Math: Singapore Kindergarten, baby.  Good stuff.  She loves it.

Reading:  All About Reading- I love you AAR.  So worth the investment.  Uses the same magnet board as big sister so we are rocking and a rolling.  It works.

Games games games, puzzles, FUN!  This girl likes to move so we stay a moving!

And for both...

Bible: Church programs reinforce our love learning, Scripture, morning family quiet times.

Science, History, Social Studies:  I will adapt for little sister, too.

Art and PE:  Your's truly and some additional classes.  Swimming, Crossfit Kids (again, your's truly), dance, soccer in the backyard, archery (hilarious I just blogged about this and big sister wants to try it! Ha!), etc etc.

Critical Thinking Company:  Good fun books for brain development, etc.

Not sure I covered everything.  Reading above sounds daunting even to me, but it's fun and we have a rhythm we dance to.  It all gets done at the end of the week.  We usually do some form of schooling year round. But this year we are "on the grid" as opposed to not being registered last year.  So for this Type A teacher mama, it's all written down and documented.

No funny business.  Well, maybe a little...actually a lot.  But well-documented funny monkey business from our monkey family I love...Bottom line, these girls are getting loved.  And learning about the One who loves them more than anyone.  A God that loves, doesn't force, push, but embraces.  On my knees Lord help me demonstrate your grace and goodness.  You are good.