Black Lives Matter.

You know how you might sometimes relive conversations years after they’ve finished (I realize not all people do this, but imagine, if you will)? You think I wish I said this differently or I should have listened better. One such conversation I relive nearly 15 years after the fact centered around racism. Specifically, it was an argument I had with my closest friend at the time as to whether it still existed. I insisted that we were way past racism, that society knows better now, that the fact that there were affluent Blacks and poor Whites meant that systemic racism died years ago. My friend, who is mixed-race, of course countered that racism was not dead. How did the argument end? We were at an impasse and never discussed it again.

I cringe every time I think back to that conversation. I was ignorant. I had never seen racism manifest in front of me. If it had, I didn’t notice because it was never directed at me. As far as I knew, racism was something from our history books. It was conquered with the Civil Rights Movement and Dr. King.

I now know better. I’ve learned since leaving the privileged little bubble I’d grown up in that the world is so much bigger than what I had seen or experienced. I know how privileged I am just by being white. I try not to beat myself up too much for being an ignorant kid, but the thing is, my friend was trying to open my eyes to the truth—to her truth—and I refused to see it because it made me uncomfortable. I wish I had listened—really listened back then.

I never have to worry about someone shooting me for jogging or walking around my neighborhood. No one has ever followed me around in a store. I always believed the police are here to protect me and never witnessed anything to make me question that fact. I’ve never been the subject of racial profiling. But, just because it is not my reality doesn’t mean it doesn’t exist.

There is no denying that racism still exists in this country. One might think that he’s not harming anyone by denying its existence, but that’s how white supremacists win. That’s how countless lives are ripped away without any real repercussions. When we stay silent about injustices, we permit them to continue. If one truly believes all lives matter, he’d stand for justice—for all.

We are all human—image bearers of God. Skin color, hair type, height, weight, culture, sex, political party, geographical location, health, religion, brain chemistry—these do not change this fact. Humanity has been stripped away from various peoples throughout the ages. In our sin, and to our shame, we’ve marginalized “others” based off looks, beliefs, upbringing—you name it. The “us” v. “them” mentality—the division—does more harm than good (if any good at all). Every human, whether we disagree with them or just don’t like how they look, deserves dignity and respect. Every. Single. Life. Matters.

So, if I were to go back and change that conversation I had years ago, I’d shut up and listen to my friend. I would tell her that her points were valid and admit that I’m no authority on racism. I’d say that I have no clue of the struggle many people face each day. I’d say “sorry,” and maybe I would have learned all this sooner.

I am a Feminist

I am a Feminist.

I am also a stay-at-home mom. And I’m pro-life.

Many might say I am a paradox. Considering the popularized feminist movement depicted on news outlets today, you might question these statements.

When you look at feminism, at its core, you see that it is about valuing human life—valuing a woman’s life. In our history, and in many women’s present, women have been seen as objects. Women have been told that our voices do not matter, and that we are the property of the men in our lives. Our only worth was in our dowry and childbearing. Our names were unimportant—unless she did something so out of the ordinary that it got men’s attention.

Jesus challenged that. He named the ordinary women in His life. He gave them a voice and saw their importance.

Women are also image-bearers of God. God is not a man. God is not a woman. God is God—both feminine and masculine traits are evident in His nature, and we would do well to value both.

Women are not the same as men. We were not created the same way. We have some similarities and many differences. Our bodies are different, our minds are wired differently, our hormones are different. We hold the other puzzle piece to understanding (to our human capacity) God’s nature.

Just as there are a wide variety of men, there are a wide variety of women. Not all women are made to have kids. Not all women are made to work outside the home. Not all women like frilly, girly stuff, and not all women like adventurous, sporty stuff. We don’t belong in a box. All women are different. All women are valuable and valued by God.

Men are valuable, too. Humans are valuable. Men have been told their value from the beginning of creation. This idea is still relatively new for women.

Women have had to fight to get their voices heard—to vote, to be able to escape abuse, to have an education, to join the workforce. We take these new rights for granted because we’ve been born into a society that already had them in place by the time we could access them. Some women are not that fortunate. Many women may not yet understand that with these new rights come responsibilities—to the men and other women in our lives.

We have a voice—and the responsibility to use that voice to build up and not tear down, and speak out for the voiceless.

We have access to an education—and the responsibility to use it well.

We have the ability to escape abusive situations—and the responsibility to show others the way out.

We have jobs—and the responsibility to work hard in our professions.

We’ve come a long way in our society, but there is still room for growth. Sometimes, the women in are the breadwinners of the family—equal pay would be beneficial. Maternity leave could be GREATLY improved. A separate study of women’s bodies in the medical field (because we are not the same as men and don’t react to treatments the same) is extremely important…to name a few areas of improvement.

I do not want to be treated the same as men. I want to valued for who I am—a woman.

What I Love About Our New House

Since we're ripping out a LOT of what could be seen in the house (i.e. the wood paneling), one might wonder why we chose that house in the first place.

The thing is, here and there, there were bits of the original character peeking out from behind the 70s decor. Original trim, vents, the staircase, two stained-glass windows, and a whopping total of one original door. I just had to see what lay underneath the paneling.

One of the Stained Glass Windows

Original Banister

The only original door left, also the original trim untouched

An Original Vent

It turns out the original plaster walls covered with (most likely original) peeling wallpaper were hidden behind the updates. They wallpapered the ceilings, which is actually kind of cool. Also, I nearly cried when I saw the original window trim, hacked away in places to make way for that wood paneling. We discovered a hole in the bathroom wall where an original medicine cabinet once stood, as well as a boarded up window, which now leads to the fourth bedroom. A large window in the dining room was covered and turned into built-in-shelves because of the laundry room addition.

The built-in shelves are covering the original window trim

The original trim was trimmed for the wood paneling

A hole in the wall for a medicine cabinet

A boarded up window

I'm going to try my hardest to restore that trim, because the one window and the multiple doorways where it stayed intact are beautiful. I'm also hoping to find some five-panel doors and a front door at the local architectural salvage warehouse to replace the hollow doors that replaced the originals. I'm also hoping to restore the trim around the old dining room window/built-in shelves and create a more era-appropriate built-in.

The house was really dark with all that wood paneling. It's already brightened up since we took it down. The living room will also brighten up once we put a light in there.

I found out the house was a brick house just by looking around the enclosed front porch. The wall of brick was unfortunately painted an ugly tan and brown, but the original columns are still there, untouched. Un-enclosing the front porch will also help a LOT with brightening up the living room, even though it'll be some time before we can do that.

The vinyl and stone facade that covers the house

Painted Brick in the Front Porch

I'm really excited about how it'll look when all the work is done.

House Remodel Journal Part 2

When we bought this house, we knew we’d need to work on it. Before we put in an offer, I had a list of all the work I’d want done on the house. We planned out how to finance said work. But, as is typical, we may have underestimated exactly how much time it all would take. This isn’t HGTV, after all. It’s real life.

I’m a planner. I plan things until I can no longer plan them. I’m not much of a doer. The follow-through is not my strong suit. I live in the theoretical. There are points where this serves me really well—problem solving, planning a remodel. I make very detailed plans, but sometimes my plans don’t take into account my present reality. I am newly a mother of 2, healing from a C-section that I had three days before we closed on our house. My plans involved me doing a large chunk of the work on the house—not exactly realistic. We also currently live with my grandmother, 40 minutes away from our house, which makes meeting contractors and going over to do work tedious.

The Living Room

A pile of wood paneling in one of the bedrooms

We discovered the drop ceiling in one of the bedrooms covered ceiling tiles, yippie!

After tearing out all the plaster in the attic

Instead, my husband has been making the drive five nights a week to work on the house after putting our son down to bed. He spends 2-3 hours at the house—sometimes with help—while I care for our newborn and go to sleep. It’s taken a toll on our relationship. We only see each other for dinner and a few minutes in the morning as he gets ready for work. Juggling the house, two kids, his job, and our relationship has probably been harder on him than me.

Peeling Wallpaper and Original Trim

Living Room's much brighter without paneling

So, where are we currently? Benjamin’s still peeling off the layers of remodels the house has had in its hundred years of existing, and I’m meeting with plumbers and an electrician this week to get quotes on those jobs. We’ve sent a down payment to our A/C contractor and are waiting to schedule that work. Our 22-month-old is adjusting to big-brotherhood pretty well, despite bouts of jealousy. Our newborn is 1 month old and refusing to sleep in his own bed. And Benjamin and I are strangers sharing a bed (with a baby) at my grandmother’s house.

Despite all this, I am hopeful. This is just a short chapter in our lives, after all. I’m going to push to get this house done as soon as possible, so we can move in and reap the benefits that this house seemed to promise us when we bought it. Things we are currently sacrificing, like time together, we’ll be able to have multiplied to us when we are finished.

House Remodel Journal Part 1

We bought a house--a month ago!

It's a brick American Foursquare built in the early 1900s. We actually bought it from the grandson of the family that built it. They immigrated from Poland and built this house to raise their family. His parents were the last to live in it before he inherited it and rented it out. His parents updated it a few times in the 70s, built an addition and inserted a LOT of wood paneling.

This house caught our eye because of the location and size of the house. It is near schools, parks, and restaurants in a town that is very walkable. It's age appealed to me because I love old houses and have been playing with an idea to start my own business restoring old houses and buildings. This seemed like the perfect way to get my feet wet.

We aren't planning on doing anything to the layout of the house, but instead plan on updating the cosmetics--or, more accurately, restoring the cosmetics to reflect it's original beauty.

We are starting with the interior and working our way out. We may not get to the exterior for a few years, but I fully intend to un-enclose the porch and peel off the vinyl siding and fake stone facade to reveal the original brick one day.

Living Room

Dining Room

Kitchen

Attic

Here's the plan:
Remove ALL wood paneling and worn-down carpeting
Install central A/C
Update electrical (we found knob & tube in the attic)
Insulate attic and basement
Refinish attic to make playroom for kids
Finish the rest of the basement for Benjamin's music studio
Fix plaster walls
Restore trimwork
Install new light fixtures in most of the house
Install new flooring
Paint
Move in!

I know it's a bit unrealistic, but I'm hoping to be finished with the interior and move in by our son's second birthday, which is mid-September.

Wish us luck!

A Happiness Project?

A couple weeks ago I read The Happiness Project by Gretchen Rubin, and although it seems a bit vain to focus on my own happiness, I do like some of the ideas she has.



Rubin focuses on making tangible resolutions to - in essence - be a more pleasant person to be around. She also forces herself to accept her preferences without giving in to the need to feel legitimate (An example she gives is her love of children's literature.) and to make time for enjoyment.

After reading it, I'm feeling motivated to work on my own character.

I am a perpetual critic. Perhaps it's because I like to feel superior to others - no, wait, it definitely is because I like to feel superior to others. It's terrible. I hate it. I've been "working on it" for a while now.

Philippians 2:3 says "Do nothing from selfish ambition or conceit, but in humility count others more significant than yourselves.

Knowing this, I despise my critical heart. I despise the part of my nature that insists on being self-important. But hating this part of me just isn't good enough. I realize that I need to make tangible efforts in "counting others more significant." Of course, praying for change is just as--if not more--important.

Enter Rubin's "Resolutions Chart," as mentioned in her book. The idea is to write down specific resolutions and measure how you are doing with each resolution every day. I think I will start doing this, and we'll see how it goes. I also like her idea of writing a novel in a month. I might just try that one, too.

My main goal won't be to become happier, per se, but rather to be more intentional in my pursuit of good character.

I'll let you know how it goes.

My Secret Garden Dream

Watching, and then reading The Secret Garden as a kid sparked a desire to create secret garden of my own once I grew up. I love flowers and enjoyed playing in our backyard growing up. I wanted the same experiences for my children. The problem with this desire is that I'm not very good with follow-through. I start things and have a hard time keeping up with them through completion.

I started a vegetable garden in our backyard this year in hopes of being able to live off of our small plot of land a bit. It's a 12x4 raised bed garden that I planted via the Square Foot Gardening method. Unfortunately some of my older seeds didn't take, so only about 75% of the garden yielded anything. I was pretty surprised with myself that after planning it out all winter I actually managed to build and plant it. That's exactly the sort of thing that I would start and give up before any real progress had been made.

My husband owned this house before I met him, and the yard wasn't exactly something he focused on. There's a raised garden bed lining the front and side of our house, and it was overgrown and a bit scary when I came around. I spent a year or two planning out what I'd do with the garden and weeded, trimmed, and planted it last year. We also started utilizing our yard last year, enjoying our make-shift fire pit and playing lawn games with friends.

The thing is, we have all this lawn (that's mostly weeds) that neither of us really like to mow, so (after reading two books) I've decided that I'm going to replace the entire front lawn with a cottage garden. But maintaining a garden is a lot of work. I barely have energy to maintain my vegetable garden. 

I read Eco-yards: Simple Steps to Earth-Friendly Landscapes earlier this year, and I'm sold. The author encourages people to use native plants in their landscapes to encourage healthy eco-systems and help the environment.



I also read The New Low-Maintenance Garden, in which the author argues that filling your yard with hardy plants and architectural elements will allow for more enjoyment and less upkeep.



I like the ideas that both authors present - I desire to have a positive impact on the environment without putting in too much effort. I found a few native plant nurseries in my area and hope to start working on this project in the next few years. Question is, is it an investment that I'm willing to make? We'll see.

My Minimalist Journey: Diet

I grew up on Hamburger Helper and On-Cor dinners with the occasional chicken and rice. I had the typical american diet of packaged foods and minimal vegetables. We weren't very well off, and for a time some of our food came from the church food pantry. My family loved our sweets. Ice cream, Little Debbies, and store-brand chocolate chip cookies filled our cabinets and freezer.

I was not off to the best start.

I believe my parents did their best to give us what they believed to be a well-rounded diet. The canned vegetables and applesauce are a testament to that. I was a picky eater, though.

I didn't know about whole grain bread or the existence of various fruits and vegetables until one time when my parents went away for a week and left my brother and I with a family friend. She stocked the kitchen with foods I'd never seen before, and I liked them. At that point I decided that I would try anything at least once before deciding whether I liked it or not.

Working at McDonald's every night limited my options for dinner in high school. I almost always had a side salad with grilled chicken (believe it or not, you could probably still order that even though it's never been on the menu) and two "pies." My sweet tooth was (and is) still very prevalent.

In college, I lived off of Ramen soup and PB&J.

When I got married, I decided that I would only make our dinners from scratch and that we'd have a salad for dinner at least once a week. I started going through my Pinterest food board that had filled up over four years with hundreds of recipes.

Planner that I am, I laid out every single meal in an excel spreadsheet covering the entire year. I based my grocery lists off of the spreadsheet and continued working through the recipes. I decided to cook three night a week since most recipes were 6 servings (4 for our family, hubby has a big appetite), and we eat dinner with his family every Monday night.

I quickly realized that I was wasting a lot of food. I found recipes that used a portion of what I could get from the store, and I had no idea what to do with the remnants. I also realized that I wouldn't be able to keep it up when we started having kids.

I watched a number of documentaries on Netflix (believe me, there are a TON) on our diet. I'll probably list them in a future post. Two stuck out: Fed Up was the first one I saw and it talked about the unhealthy amounts of sugar we consume, and Forks Over Knives discussed a plant-based diet based off The China Study.



Another documentary discussed the food industry's impact on farmers and how it exploits illegal immigrants (the only people willing to work for such low wages).

I realized that my diet can have a negative or positive impact on the environment and the people working to bring me my food. I decided to stop buying meat mostly to save money but also to force us to eat more vegetables. We still eat meat when it's served to us at our parents' homes or when we're out. I also chose to try to buy with the seasons, getting organic produce based off the dirty dozen list and buying frozen vegetables and fruit in off seasons.

I'm currently working on simplifying my meal plan. I'm starting to put meals on rotation rather than trying something new every night. I've made a broad theme for each night I cook to narrow down ideas and keep it interesting. (If you're wondering: Tuesday is Latin American, Thursday is Western European, and Saturday is Asian) I'm also looking at the ingredients and trying to have some overlap within the week. I'll probably explain my food choices more in-depth in a future post.

I still need to work on cutting out added sugars and wasting less. Since I started a vegetable garden, I started composting this year - that helps.

I have more energy (which those who know me know is a big deal), I don't really want meat much anymore, and I lost all the baby weight by eight months postpartum. It's also easier to feed the baby people food when I can grab almost anything from the cupboard and give it to him. I don't know if this is a permanent change, but I'm happy with it now.

My Minimalist Journey: Possessions

About a month ago, I helped my parents move for the first time in almost 30 years. It was a frustrating experience for me because 30 years of accumulation filled their house, and the new, smaller home would not fit all of their stuff. My father in particular did not want to get rid of anything even though he "did not want to trash the new house" like they had their previous one. I grew up in a hoarder's house, and I could barely think straight while living there.

I had my own problems, though. If anyone asked me what my favorite form of exercise was in high school, my answer would always be shopping.

I loved going to the mall, scanning clearance racks and sales for a good deal. It was the best high my little good-girl self could get.

My closet was relatively small, so I'd go through my stuff and donate a trash bag full of clothes at least twice a year, when switching out seasons.

I was a collector, though. My bedroom had more books than everything else combined. The best shopping sprees were the ones at Borders, Walden Books, or Barnes & Noble. I'm getting excited now just writing about those hauls. I was the proud owner of two copies of my favorite book, Pride & Prejudice, thank-you-very-much (although I lost one copy by lending it out to a friend). I was my friends' library, although I was never really any good at keeping track of who had what. I still took pride in my extensive collection.

My school would have an annual auction and flea market at the end of the year, and in the last hour of the flea market, they gave away bags of stuff for $1. I filled mine up with glassware and knickknacks for my future home. I was prepared for life on my own.

Although I held on loosely to my stuff, I still accumulated quite a bit. I was a retailer's dream consumer.

In college, I heard about human trafficking. It's a cause that I became very passionate about. I looked at my Slavery Footprint and was astounded that I was a part of the problem, but I didn't know what to do about it.

A few years passed, and I had my own place with my husband. We became pregnant with our first child, and I wanted to give him a fresh start. I read The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up by Marie Kondo this time last year and promptly got to work.



Kondo's method is pretty straightforward. Pick up everything in your possession (one at a time), and keep it if it brings you joy or discard it if it does not. Useful things, like tools or kitchen utensils can be kept if you actually use them. The joy is found in their practicality. She dives deeper into her method in Spark Joy, which I would highly recommend to anyone drowning in clutter.



I actually went through all of my possessions last year and got rid of quite a lot - donating and selling on craigslist. I read Spark Joy earlier this year and realized that I still had quite a bit that I needed to discard. We had a yard sale and donated what didn't sell.

Now, I think about future purchases for at least a month prior to making them. I don't go shopping for fun, but instead find entertainment in other things, like reading the shelves of books I still own and never got around to reading. When I do make a purchase, I research and try to buy ethically sourced, high quality goods where I can. I shop thrift stores for specific items and don't bring anything home unless I absolutely love it.

I have space to think, and I'm beginning to love my home. Plus, baby-proofing is a whole lot easier without clutter.

My Minimalist Journey: Finances

I've actually always been pretty good with my money. As soon as I got a job in high school, I set up a system where I saved half of my paychecks, tithed 10%, and lived off of 40%. Granted, I was living with my parents, so my only bill was my phone bill, and the only meals I took care of were the ones I had at work or out with friends. Still, I was in the good habit of living below my means.

I applied for a credit card as soon as I was old enough because I knew I needed to build good credit if I ever wanted to buy a house or car. I also got a Kohl's credit card, since I loved shopping and wanted to take advantage of the perks that offered me.

I didn't work my freshman year in college, and I blew through my savings account that first year. Snacks and clothes add up.

I got a job in the theatre on campus and started working at Kohl's to pay for this new spending habit. The employee discount meant that I could buy more.

It caught up to me, though.

Various other incidents took place that cost me money, and I started racking up debt. I remember realizing that I didn't have the money to pay my minimum payment of $30 on my credit card. I was distraught.

That same day I got a check in the mail for a few thousand dollars, one of those scams that have you deposit the check then send them a check for the same amount in order to get a larger check. I almost fell for it because I was so desperate for cash. Fortunately, I listened to those around me and ignored it (not like the scammers were going to get anything from my emptied bank account).

I broke down and asked my parents for money, and my pride took a hit.

That was enough of a wake-up call for me to take a look at my spending habits. I held off on superfluous purchases, and slowly began to pay off that debt.

A few years later, I got married, and I married my husband's debt, too.

He didn't have anything in savings, and he viewed credit differently than I did.

I was put in charge of our budget. He trusts me with our finances, and we discuss big purchases beforehand. We "snowballed" our debt, as Dave Ramsey calls it. In a couple days, we will be virtually debt-free, with our mortgage being the only debt left. We intend to pay it off early and maintain a 3 month emergency fund. Lord willing, we'll be able to accomplish these goals.

A great resource for financial freedom is Dave Ramsey's The Total Money Makeover 



I recently read a book that I won 7 years ago at a conference. God's Economy challenged me to reevaluate at my financial goals. I've been planning and budgeting to save up for retirement and kids' colleges, but my main intention has always been to be more generous. It would be really awesome if we could give away over half of our income. These goals have been in direct conflict with each other.



God's Economy argues that it is possible to financially invest in eternity in the here and now. We need to recognize the power that money has on people in order to disrupt its hold. Rather than seeking after the American Dream, we should be seeking to meet the needs of those around us. I'm currently grappling with how to apply the principles laid out in this book to my life. It's an unpopular, radical idea, but there's no reason we can't try.

My Minimalist Journey: Time

If you've read any of my previous posts, you may have read mentions of my tendency toward busyness to the point of crashing. I would keep it up until breaking point, at which time I'd overcompensate with outright sloth. It's been a reoccurring problem for me. 

I never really went into any details, but I suppose now is as good a time as any to share since my time was the first thing I ever attempted to simplify.

Growing up, I was always involved in extracurriculars while maintaining good grades. Middle School was filled with Basketball, Volleyball, Choir, Bell Choir, and Theatre. I cut out Basketball and both Choirs in high school, but I added yearbook and class treasurer to my resumé. I also started working (under the table) when I was 14 and got a part-time job at McDonald's when I turned 15. My social life consisted of church and its youth group. I volunteered each Sunday, either running the projector or watching toddlers.  I believed that I could do it all, and I did. For the most part. 

 Every year around the same time - mid-February - I'd be overcome with the stress of it all and have a mental and emotional breakdown. I would  try to cut back on extra responsibilities only to get right back into the cycle of over-commitment and crashing.

 My relationships suffered because I treated my time with friends in the same manner.  Many times, unwilling to say no, I would schedule time with one friend and then make plans with someone else in the next hour, cutting time with both short.

 College wasn't much better. I was involved in the Bonner scholarship program, which required 140 volunteer hours a semester (and 280 volunteer hours a summer). I also had a Theatre scholarship that required me to be involved in each production. I did work study in the Theatre and worked part-time at Kohl's. On top of all that, I decided I wanted to graduate a semester early, so I took 18 credits each semester. 

I was always on the go, and my insomnia ensured that I was always running on empty.

After finishing school, I quickly filled up my time with various passion projects and work.

Like many westerners, I valued busyness. That is, I did until I read Crazy Busy by Kevin DeYoung a couple years ago. I started questioning my need for busyness and realized that it stemmed partly from my perfectionism and partly from my superhero complex. 

I began to yearn for simple.

Around the same time as reading Crazy Busy I had a discussion with a friend that prompted me to write out everything in my life that required time, from relationships to responsibilities. I circled those things that I wanted to prioritize and slowly withdrew myself from the extras.

I found I had more energy for what I valued most - my relationships with friends, family, and God. I realized that in trying to do everything, I was ineffective with what mattered to me. You cannot give anything your best, I discovered, when you're pulled in 20 different directions. Each relationship or responsibility suffers and you suffer.

Now, I write every appointment (social or professional) down on my phone calendar and let it alert me when it's time to go. Doing so frees up my mind to focus on the task at hand. I also make sure to have loads of blank space on the calendar. Scheduling every minute of my day only makes me want to rebel.

I'm still working on unplugging myself from technology - especially in others' presence. Single-tasking is the name of the game, and it's oddly freeing. I feel lighter and more focused.

It is possible to say "no" to things, and your life won't have any less meaning if you slow down. You may even find that it has more.

My Minimalist Journey: Introduction

Lately, I've been sharing a lot on social media - and eagerly discussing at every opportunity - my newfound love of minimalism. And why shouldn't I love it? It aligns so perfectly with all my values. Since minimalism is so counter-cultural, though, my friends and family don't quite share my enthusiasm.

I'm very passionate about sustainability, being a good steward of the earth God gave us, and fighting for equality throughout the world. Minimalism forces me to be a conscientious consumer - looking at the impact my purchases and habits have on the world around me.

I went from overwhelmed, over-booked, and retail-crazed to nearly debt-free and relaxed. Looking back, I realized that it's been a long journey to where I am now, and it's certainly not over. 

The next few posts will be about how I've simplified various parts of my life, including my time, my finances, my diet, and my possessions. I'll talk about the resources that inspired me and the impact simplifying has had. 

I may not convert you to minimalism, but I'll try.

Going Outside with Baby

With the nice weather, I've been taking my son outside to play in the backyard. As I laid out the blanket and slipped my shoes off, I was struck with this question: when did I become afraid of interacting with nature? 

I remember running around our yard barefoot as a child, despite my father's constant warnings to wear shoes (as he was a carpenter, there was a greater likelihood of loose nails & screws being found back there). I remember wading through creeks and climbing trees, petting bees and soaking up the rain. Now, I stay inside if it's raining and wear shoes if I'll be walking on grass. It's almost as if I'm afraid of interacting with nature. I'll go outside and observe it, shooting pictures or sitting on a blanket with my son, but heaven forbid I actually touch it. 

And I realized that I was hesitant to let my son touch it. Since he loves putting things in his mouth, I wouldn't want him eating grass or a bug or something poisonous.

But then I remembered. I remembered the adventure of wading up a creek I imagined to be the Amazon and I an explorer. I remembered the freedom of climbing our apple trees and feeling invincible. I remembered believing myself to be the lone benefactor of the ants I allowed to crawl over my skin. I want my children to have those and many more experiences. I want them to explore the jungle, unearth treasures, and care for little creatures. I shouldn't keep that from them.

My son stepped on the grass with his bare feet and had the cutest reaction. I would have missed that experience if I had protected him from it.

So what if he tastes a little grass? I ate dirt and lived to tell the tale.

Mom-ing It

So, I'm a mom. I've been a mom for nearly 8 months now, and I think I might be getting the hang of it. I mean, as much as a mom of an 8-month-old can.

I know that kids grow, situations morph, things change. So, I know that after I've gotten used to being a mother of an infant, I'll have to learn to get used to a new dynamic. That's how life works - it's an ever-evolving roller coaster ride.

I've learned to flow into the rhythm of mom-ing it.

We were spoiled with a really good sleeper until we moved our son to his own room a little over a month ago. Finally, after a terrible night of waking up every half hour to screams, I had had enough and frantically searched for sleep solutions. I had a frustrating week of sleep training that resulted in our son sleeping even better than he had when we thought we were spoiled. Our average of 8 hours straight turned into an average of 11 hours straight. That changed a lot of things for us.

Rather than just feeding him for an hour 'til he was in a deep sleep or trying to find just the right combination of bouncing with the right song to lull our baby to sleep - "an art" as my husband called it - we now have a routine. It frees us up to be able to go out without worrying whether grandparents are up to the task of putting him down.

This routine has also allowed me to have free time to myself during the day. He no longer has to nap attached to me, so I can get things done - clean the house, take showers, or nap. It's delightful. The added benefit? Getting my libido back. The constant physical attachment was a drain that made any extra attention from my husband unwelcome. This sleep scheduling thing really helped our marriage in the still-new parents chapter.

For those of you wondering if I ever bonded with baby, I did. It took time and patience, but I love that kid like I never loved anyone before. I'm not saying I love him more than anyone else, just different. Like, have-a-complete-emotional-and-mental-break-down-over-how-the-heck-am-I-going-to-protect-him-from-people-who'd-wish-him-harm different. Sorry, dad, for rolling my eyes every time you worried about me getting abducted. I get it now.

And with his ever-increasing mobility (hopefully crawling soon), and our consistent nap schedule, I am enjoying motherhood even more. I can spend his sleeping hours writing or watching mind-numbing TV, and when he's awake, I'm able to be fully present with him.

I'm learning to balance my desire to be the perfect mom/wife with the reality that some days I just don't have the energy to make a meal from scratch. I have to be okay with that. I'm no super mom, but I definitely earned the massage I got (as an early present) for Mother's Day.

Moms, wherever you are right now in your motherhood journey, I hope that you know you're doing an awesome job. Don't pressure yourself to be the perfect Pinterest-ing mom, just be the best you can be and leave the rest up to God.

(I need to remember that.)

The two books I read for sleep scheduling (the latter worked better for us, although it was really long):


On Becoming Baby Wise: Giving Your Infant the Gift of Nighttime Sleep


Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child, 4th Edition: A Step-by-Step Program for a Good Night's Sleep

2 Weeks Postpartum

A little over 2 weeks ago, I gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. The first thought I had when the doctor placed him on my chest was oh, there was an actual living, breathing human being in there. I don't know what I was expecting, maybe a fruit or vegetable since I'd been reading up on comparative sizes for the past nine months. Whatever it was, I was not expecting this squirming red baby that was plopped onto my chest. I'm not one of those people who didn't know they were pregnant, nor was I accidentally impregnated. I've been wanting to be a mother for all of my (albeit short) adult life. We'd been trying for 6 months before I got the positive result. I was excitedly reading up on birth and parenting and picking out baby items throughout my pregnancy. 

It's just - well - my labor seemed anticlimactic for some reason. It wasn't a long arduous labor. In fact, I enjoyed telling every detail of it to anyone who'd listen. 

I didn't know what was wrong. Although I knew I was pregnant with a boy, I think part of me still hoped he'd be a girl because girls seem so much easier to raise than boys (having been a girl myself). There was also the fact that I had a beautiful baby when I was half expecting an ugly one since I was a pretty ugly baby. Whatever the reason, the reality that I was bringing home a living human didn't really set in. 

The thing is, it still hasn't. 

I realized from a dream I had a couple nights ago, that I haven't really felt any attachment to him as my child. Sure, I've been carrying him around and nursing him, spending loads of my time holding him close, but I haven't really bonded with him yet. 

It took me a few days to even say "I love you" to him, and that even felt superficial. I have to remind myself to kiss him every once in a while, while my husband can't stop kissing him.

I had to ask what was wrong with me that I felt nothing towards this baby I'd been carrying for 9 months. I googled it. Apparently it can take up to 6 months to bond with one's baby. 6 months! I hope it doesn't take that long. As for now, I will continue to do everything I can to try to bond with my baby and pray that it happens sooner rather than later. I guess we'll see. 

Democracy at Work

I grew up in a very politically vocal household. Most Conservative Republicans are. My schooling involved a lot of right-wing rants from my history teacher. I went to college and was exposed to more liberals, but my politics teacher was conservative.

As I've grown, I've started to see the problem with democracy in America. It's the problem many people in my generation have noticed alongside me - their response is to relinquish their right to vote. What is this problem that would cause so many to forgo a right that generations have fought to gain? The problem is that there is no real representative of the people in our government.

Looking at the issues that the 2 major parties stand on, I see no one that I completely agree with. I almost think that this is done purposely so that people focus on one issue when voting and don't see the other stances on issues that they are voting for.

Did you know that there are 5 "major" political parties? There are 33 "minor" parties, as well. So, why is it we only hear about 2?

We can blame the media, but I think the blame lies on the citizens. We don't take the time to look at ALL of our options. Why should we always feel like we are choosing the lesser of two evils? People say that if they vote for any other candidates, they are throwing away their vote. Isn't the point of voting to make your voice heard?

I say we start voting for what we believe in with confidence. That we stop putting ourselves on polar opposites - making it a state of "us and them" and making the chasm between larger. I say that we take our right to vote and use it. Make the American government speak for the people again.

Look at your options & vote for who most closely resembles your beliefs.

This country will be a much better place if we all did.

This seems to be the best website I can find about all the candidates:
http://www.politics1.com/p2016.htm

Here's a quiz to see whom you side with most, look into each result, though, to see how your response compares: http://www.isidewith.com/political-quiz

Run Away!

One of the challenges I'm facing with the eminent addition to our family is to fight the urge to run.

It's an urge I've been fighting since childhood. I remember one instance where my neighbor friend and I chose to rendezvous in our alley at midnight one night and drive away in her electric toy car. We got a block away before her step-father found us and brought us home. I don't think I was ever serious about running away as a child because I never really got far or planned my trips very well.

I escaped in a different way. Through my books, I could be a secret agent or courageous wizard. I lived in far off countries or magical lands. I was wooed by Mr. Darcy and journeyed through Middle Earth. I chose to live vicariously through beloved characters rather than live my own life. I even got involved with theatre and became the characters I played. 

Yet, at different points in my life, I still fought the urge to physically run. I long for adventure. I want to see the world, to experience its many cultures. I want to have an interesting life fighting for justice or creating a masterpiece. I wanted the life I have, but I also didn't want to settle down so early. 

With the addition of a baby, it looks as if I will never have the adventures I yearn for, and that scares me. That's what makes me want to run away. Perhaps this wanderlust could be satiated if I were to go out more. If I made a point to take trips to the places I want to see and found interesting activities to do while at home, I may be a little more inclined to stick around. Maybe this is something I need to prioritize in my life, and maybe I will become a little more content with settling down if I do.

Rather than waste time on Pinterest or spend my days in someone else's adventure, I'm going to start making choices that support this longing. We'll see how it turns out!

Baby on the Way

After trying for a few months, my husband and I have been blessed with a developing baby. I'm now 22 weeks pregnant and overwhelmed with the prospect of becoming a first-time mom. In anticipation of the positive pregnancy test, I read up on a lot of baby and parenting books, blogs, and sites. I even started my baby registry (with the mindset that we would be having a boy first) on amazon. I was so excited to be moving on to this next chapter in my life that I over-saturated my brain with baby - that is, until I actually found out I was pregnant.

The first few months, it seemed too good to be true. I didn't want to tell anyone just in case we lost it, but my big mouth overruled me on that one. I stopped looking at baby stuff for fear that I would jinx it. I went to my doctor's appointments, saw the baby moving, and still couldn't quite believe that what I saw on the screen reflected what was going on in my womb. I'm the kind of person who has hopes and dreams for my life and never believes that I could actually obtain any of them. This was just another case of my unbelievable felicity.

After we found out the gender in our 20 week visit and I started feeling distinct movement, I finally allowed myself to revel in the new life created within me. I also began to freak out. I'm not ready to be a mom! I'm only 25. I still have no idea what I want to do with my life. How can we provide for children while still trying to reach our financial goal of being debt-free? I'm just now rethinking my career and flirting with the idea of going back to school to pursue Interior Design. Becoming a published author, it turns out, requires much more discipline and energy than I have. Figuring out how to juggle being a full-time mom and part-time employee is going to be hard.

So as my life is transitioning yet again, I am faced with new challenges, many of which come from rethinking the choices I've made up to now. I have come to understand that sometimes the best way to face them is head-on as they come. Creativity comes out of necessity, and I believe that this next chapter of my life is going to require a lot of creativity.

I know that with God's help and the support of my family and friends, I can overcome these challenges. And I know that I will grow tremendously because of them. So, (I guess) bring 'em on!

Self-Acceptance

An idea is germinating in me. It's an idea I've long been grappling. Who am I--really?

Years of living behind a mask, a self-inflicted performance created to obtain acceptance and accolades, have stunted my growth into my own skin. I think this is a major epidemic in society as a whole, but mostly within Christian households.

A few years ago, I was a year into my college career and asking that same question, "Who am I?" At that moment, I came to the wrong conclusion that sounded so much like the right one. You see, I decided that I needed to accept myself, wholly, for who I believed I was created to be. I needed to embrace EVERY aspect of myself, which included my sinful desires--especially my sinful desires. I had come to the conclusion that I--at the core of who I am and who God created me to be--was undeniably and irrevocably promiscuous, and for God to really use me, I needed to release that (very hidden) side of me. (I was overcompensating for my perfectionist tendencies.)

Looking back now, I see how naive I was. I was so eager to reinvent myself that I ended up losing myself to a twisted logic. That decision cost me my virginity, but I do not mourn that so much as the wasted time, broken psyche, and deep depression that ensued.

I do not believe that I asked the wrong question, nor do I think that my conclusion was far off. The issue with my conclusion was one that comes to a lot of people when faced with a decision. Sometimes, we settle for answers that almost sound perfect. They just slightly miss the mark. These answers mimic truth so well that we choose to ignore the flashing warning signs that might indicate their deception.

Do not be mistaken, it is deception.

It's near-truths and almost-rights that send us so far off course. It's an ancient tactic used by Satan from the dawn of time.
"If you eat the fruit, you won't die (at least not right away)." He says to Eve.

We need to take the time to step back before diving into a decision or a conclusion to assess it fully. Look at the warning signs. Do not let impatience prompt you into a decision you are going to regret in the future.

I am still forming my answer to the question of "Who am I?" today. I believe that I was right in my conclusion that I needed to accept myself for who I am. I am not who I thought I was. I defined myself by an attribute that came as a result of humanity's downfall rather than how I specifically was created--in God's image.

The correct answer to "Who am I?" lies in the need to realize my strengths and weaknesses, cultivate my passions and talents, and stop trying to be something I'm not.

I can utilize my strengths and talents while pursuing my passions and allowing God's power to shine through my weaknesses.

So, who am I?
The answer isn't simple, and it's something I'm learning a little more of each day.

The Forgotten Sin

Now the works of the flesh are evident: sexual immorality, impurity, sensuality, idolatry, sorcery, enmity, strife, jealousy, fits of anger, rivalries, dissensions, divisions,... (Galatians 5:19-20 ESV)

When looking at this passage, it's so easy for us to focus on the "big sins," pointing out sexual immorality, idolatry, anger, etc. So many times we read through this (what seems like) never-ending list of works of the flesh and skip over a couple key points hidden in the middle. In fact, it seems like one of the biggest traits of the modern-day church is division. We separate ourselves by how we worship, interpretations of the Bible, or what we focus on.  

 Churches seem to split left and right over disagreements in leadership or a part of ministry. We feel like we have to clarify which type of Christian we are. And although we are all supposed to be a part of one unified body, we still pass judgement on other parts or even consider them foes. The thing is, I'm not immune to this phenomenon. I've grown up with my own ideas about other denominations, and I've even stepped away from the church in it's entirety because I nit-picked every church in town (a town that had more churches than restaurants). 

 The thing is, we're human. It's easy to make excuses for dissension and division. We get hurt. We have a major disagreement. We think others' methods are outright wrong. The thing about being a Christ-follower, though, is that He calls us to put all that aside. We are to forget ourselves and seek Him first. We are to put our brothers and sisters ahead of ourselves. We are to be open and honest and work out our differences. We are called to be unified, celebrate the differences, and extend the grace God continually gives us each day. 

 The devil knows this. I could even argue that his favorite method is divide and conquer. When we are so focused on fighting each other, we forget who the real enemy is. Prayers go unsaid, people go unheard, and the Gospel remains hidden. He likes to play to our pride or our past or whatever it is that will separate us from the community God has put us in. 

 I don't care what church you go to or what brand of Christianity you adhere to. Either way, I hope to see you in heaven. For now, I believe the Kingdom of Heaven on earth is in need of some repairs. The sinews of Christ's body need to grow back together because together we are far stronger than we could ever be apart. 

 When I would have fights with my friends growing up, my mother often quoted what I now know to be a verse in the Bible. She said a cord of 3 is not easily broken, meaning that on our own we are weaker than we are together, and with Christ we are nearly invincible. Let's not forget that.