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My Father's Daughter

  From what I can remember, it was fall or early winter. Not super cold, but chilly. The sun was shining down through the trees, bouncing off of the bare branches near the little apartment where I was moving to. One of those sunny days that seems completely out of sync with the kind of day you are actually having. The kind of beautiful day that seems to be mocking you and poking fun at how miserable you feel. I was about 5. My parents were splitting up and I was going to go live with my Mom. The day Dad dropped me off in this new town was something I will never forget. We talked about it a lot over the years, because it was a major thing for him too. I was standing at the door crying and watching him leave. He had already picked me up and hugged me and tried to say goodbye several times. He got to the car door, put his hand on the handle and froze. He came back to me and scooped me in his arms, tears running down his face. He held me for another few seconds, then sat me on the gr...
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Comparing Dirty Laundry...from the desk of "Clean Mom"

   I am annoyed. I admit it. Sometimes I can just scroll by, or read a blog and shrug it off in an objective way. Other times, something just gets my goat. The goat has been gotten. Ugh. Numerous people on my friends list have been sharing posts about how you can have a messy house and be a good mom. Of course you can. There is nothing wrong with that message. I completely understand the writer's perspective. I have seen numerous other blog posts and articles conveying this same message. "It's ok to have a messy house! You are a good Mom!" Of course you are.   There are two parts of these posts that irk me. First, the subtle suggestion in all of these articles that a messy house is more fun. That a messy house shows how much more awesome mom stuff you're doing, so you just don't have time for cleaning. That being messy means you are more warm, inviting or loving. If you are doing awesome mom stuff, are warm, inviting, loving or playing, it isn't because y...
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Just A Girl

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  I have a 5, almost 6 year old daughter now. She is bright, funny and often times, tempermental. She is sometimes like a teenager stuck in a tiny little body. Raising a girl is a different experience for sure. Being male or female comes with it's own set of baggage. It's own set of restrictions or expectations. Being aware of those things will help you get through life. It helps you at least understand what you are up against, and makes things easier to navigate at times.   At dinner, the other night, she was dropping hints. About food of all things. About being "almost done" and "it sure was good". It was code for "I'd like some more." It completely struck me as a teachable moment. Yes. For a 5 year old. Here is basically how the conversation went: Me- " Are you saying you are still hungry and would like more food?" Zo- "Yes."  Me-" Well, then just say you would like more. There is no reason to hint about...
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What I Should Have Said

  I woke up today feeling empty. Just as empty as I was this same time last week. A week ago today, my precious Mamaw left this world. She slipped out of her old, disease stricken body like slipping off a Sunday dress. In the end, it was peaceful. After several weeks of instense pain, she was finally free. And although I am grateful she is no longer suffering, I am left with a feeling of emptiness I can barely put into words.   After the actual event, there was the process. The visitation, the funeral, the burial. And I walked away from all of that still feeling a void. Not just a void over our loss, but a void over what I felt was a failure on my part. That I didn’t stand and speak for her, that I didn’t represent her. That instead of her being personalized and people leaving the funeral feeling closer to her than when they came- there was a definitive gap in anyone really conveying the essence of her- a wife, mother, grandmother, and friend. Although I realize it is ...
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The Toy Boxes

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Here is another project I did a while back, thought I would share it also. I decided I would build Dane some toy boxes. I could just buy them, but where is the fun in that??:) So, it all started with some cabinet doors I found at a flea market. I bought them with no purpose in mind at the time, just liked them, and at $1 piece, I couldn't resist. Here they are:  When I decided to build the toy boxes, I thought these would work great as lids. Now I just needed the sides. I lucked out and found this old shelf made of solid wood for $5 at a yard sale. I tore it apart and started measuring and cutting. I also ended up going to my grandparent's house and rummaging through the barn for some other wood and sound several solid boards to help me out.  Here is the assembled box. I put on hinges and lift bars that I bought from Lowes- which was honestly the most expensive part of this whole thing. About $20 on that stuff.  Here is the first phase.....I could have left them wood-...
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Dane's New-ish cowboy dresser and desk:)

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Well...I will just go ahead and admit it, I am CHEAP. Painfully cheap. As in- "there is no way I would ever pay full price or buy a new anything" kind of cheap. Besides, it is hard to get creative with new and expensive stuff. But, on the other hand, if you buy it used and cheap, then it frees you up to turn it into a one-of-a-kind piece that you can be proud of, without much fear of messing up. Having said that, I do not want to sacrifice style or beauty just because I don't have a botomless bank account. Where I might have to skimp on money, I try to make up for in creativity.So, for this project, I bought a $40 dresser at a used furniture store (solid maple, with dovetailed drawers!) and a $20 desk from craigslist here are the before and afters. All it took was a couple of cans of good spray paint, modge podge, some scrapbook paper, and rub on polyurethane. Voila! I am pretty happy with the result.  I probably could have changed the drawer pulls, but I kind of likes...
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Everything Happens for a Reason?

  It is a saying I use often. I was thinking yesterday about a conversation I had with my Dad recently, and wanted to share it with you. We were talking about the move to Illinois and how hard it was. We were talking about what it is like to uproot your life and start over somewhere new. Then the subject of my moving around alot as a kid came up, and my dad apologized for about the zillionth time about the fact my home life as a child wasn't very stable. Bless his heart- I know he has genuine regrets for some of the decisions that were made. I have know that for a long time. I have known for the greater part of my life that all of the things that weren't so great about my childhood were not intentionally done by my parents. They made mistakes. I was affected by those mistakes. None of us is a perfect parent, myself included.   As he apologized (again), I heard myself interrupt him to say "No, Dad. Really. I don't hold a grudge about it. I know that it wasn't the l...
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