Let's Pretend! (A Halloween Farewell)

I always sort of get in a funk when Halloween comes to an end. I think the holiday was specifically placed where it was in the calendar year just so that more fun is always on the horizon in the coming months. Thanksgiving. Christmas. New Years. Those are good times, too. But I've always known that Halloween was just my thing. I used to tell my family when asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, "I want to be a kid. I don't want to grow up." You can quote me on that. Those are wise words, my friends. As a child, I loved playing dress-up. Here's my best Michael Jackson:

Because wearing two gloves would be ordinary.

Hehe. Anyway...

Containers full of ballerina tutus, pink barbie heels, and magic wands graced our bonus room growing up. I loved it! My point is that is doesn't have to be Halloween to dress up, am I right? Well, at least it doesn't have to be if you're a kid (Y'all might disown me if I wore some Cruella Devil to church one Sunday morning).

Sometimes the cutest costumes are the ones that keep it simple (I loved Chantal's daughter in her monster costume). Perhaps that's where I failed this year for my boys. No one wanted to wear the King Tritan costume because there was so much going on with it. I'm sticking to my advice to get toddlers a costume they can't get out of by themselves and call it a day. They'll happily toddle around looking as cute as can stinkin' be and are free to let their imaginations run wild while playing and pretending. I found this precious monster baby costume that looks similar to it:

How cute?
Still, I think Halloween must be for adults anyway. Go see this spooky cocktail a friend posted! I bet it's delicious.
Until next year, Halloween!
Bring on The Holidays! I've already been sneaking and decorating for Christmas, much to my husband's dismay. 

If You Could Step Into My Head

I know if I write today, it will be too personal. Yet here I am, typing, looking for something to fill my time besides cleaning up toys and washing dishes. I feel uninspired. Minutes ago, I opened the notes I've collected for the personal memoir I'm writing. I don't know if it's something anyone else will ever read, but I want it for myself. I want to finish for my family. Wouldn't it be neat for my boys to have the story of how their parents met to read when I'm long gone? It's just this passion of mine that has taken a backseat to life.

As I said, I opened the book notes to write a little more but it didn't take long for Baby K to crawl over to me, pull himself up, and begin gnawing on my leg. I don't know how anyone works from home with children. Kudos to you. I've tried. I try to write, but I only manage the words on this blog. It's because I can just hit publish and it doesn't matter if I end my sentences in prepositions because this space is just my voice.

I search for acceptance and a feeling of productivity in other ways, too. It's no secret that I struggle with  that nagging feeling that I don't contribute enough to my family. It's amazing what a paycheck- a visual example of work well done- will do for my mood. But how do I force myself to recognize value in saving money? In taking care of the household? In raising my young son?

I enjoy cloth diapering because I know how much money it saves us every month. Recently, I started making cloth diapers in order to save even more money, but even as I accomplish these tasks it doesn't feel like enough. When I clean the kitchen for the zillionth time, it's only a chore. I don't strap on an apron and a smile and think about how I'm taking care of my growing family.

What does it take to make these things feel more important to my life?

I love that I get to stay at home with my boy. I can't imagine leaving him with someone else, only to get him back in time for bed. It would break my heart. Still, I want to do both. I want to make money with an actual job. I want to write and sell my articles again. I want to type with one hand and sew diapers with the other. I want to be supermom and I'm not her. 

I'm not her at all.

I'm stuck in this house. I'm stuck in this state. I'm stuck in limbo- wanting so desperately to cherish every single moment with Baby K, but also wishing my time away when we're in a different state and out of the Army lifestyle. Today, a wise woman of God posted on my facebook that this was just a season of my life.

And seasons are temporary.

Praise be to God.

Yesterday, PWOC (Protestant Women of the Chapel) started back for our fall semester. I was torn between which class I wanted to take. There are so many that interested me. After writing this, I realized that God has placed me exactly where he wants me. I chose a class called The Resolution for Women. It's supposed to inspire women to resolve to become "purposefully feminine, surprisingly satisfied, and faithfully His."

God is so awesome. His plan is always so much better than my own and I trust Him. Now, that's a good feeling.

Childlike Wonder

Every day I wake up and look into these sweet eyes, full of wonder, and I think to myself about the innocence of a child-

Oh, how wonderful it must be to only have to worry about if your next meal is warm enough for your liking. I guess that problem does seem monumental in the scheme of things. It's hard work being a baby.

But now, Baby K needn't worry about anything...

b/c this Mama's childhood interpretation of Baby Jesus is displayed on a rock in his bedroom (Talk about a sentence I never thought I'd say).

Ha!

Little rock Baby Jesus is watching over little K thanks to a USPS delivery to my house last week (Thanks again!). I was delighted to be reminded of this odd stage in my life where I scoured the banks of an East TN lake for any rock I could paint. My dad's side of the family has such great artistic ability...

mine never made an appearance.

Clearly.

Anyway, I looked at this strangely shaped rock all those years ago and saw the Son of God. There's something so precious about childlike wonder and innocence, isn't there? I'm so blessed to be able to experience the world through my child's eyes as he grows up. I can't wait to hear what he comes up with when he's older. Will he want to paint rocks like his (weirdo) Mama? Or will he prefer to skip them in the water like his Daddy?

Only time will tell.

Until then, I'm going to enjoy each little moment that his eyes look like this-

so full of wonder...

Because time is fleeting.

He has already grown so much.

Poor kid.

As Mother's Day weekend quickly approaches, I just have one thing to say...

Who is going to be a mother this time next year?



This girl is.

Poor kid.

Innocence

"If my heart can become pure and simple,
like that of a child, I think there probably
can be no greater happiness than this."
- Kitaro Nishid

One of the joys of motherhood that I simply cannot wait for is hearing the silly, thoughtful, and/or hilarious comments that might escape my child's lips. Aren't kids so funny? I can think of so many stories that have happened just recently that make me giggle. Even the word "story" has one all its own.

Our first Army social here at Ft. Benning was a few weeks ago. I wasn't particularly looking forward to it as I'm not the most social person on the planet (far from it). I nervously walked around, weaving myself around a bunch of dudes respectable young men in khakis and ties. Out of the various women there adorning their soldiers' arms, I knew none of them were likely to come talk to me. I don't know anyone in this town, as you may know. Little did I know that it would be a small child, sweetly matching her little sister who would bring me out of my shell.

We began chatting as her father nervously looked over at us, afraid she might say something embarrassing. He mouthed, "Sorry" more than a few times, but I didn't mind. She was fascinating to talk to. I began answering one of the (many) questions she had for me when I started off with, "wow, that is quite a story!" Slightly confused, she replied, "No, it's TRUE!" Her mother leaned over at this point and reminded her that "stories" weren't limited to fiction. It made me smile, but the funny part was yet to come...

Fifteen minutes into the conversation and ignoring all adult social rules by facing me, inches away this beautiful little child of seven asked me to sing for her. In a room full of officers and their wives. Dressed rather oddly, trying to hide my little baby bump. She wanted me to belt it out! I told her that if I did  then people might run away screaming. Her small face became wide with surprise and she got even closer to me, looked me in the eye, and said, "Really?!"

It was precious. It's these little moments that cause me to miss the innocence of childhood. I cannot wait to have a sweet little baby, my reminder of the wonder and excitement that life can hold.

[caption id="attachment_2248" align="aligncenter" width="300" caption="Photo Credit @adventure-learning-initiatives.com"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_2249" align="aligncenter" width="225" caption="Photo Credit @ localism.com"][/caption]

[caption id="attachment_2250" align="aligncenter" width="224" caption="Photo Credit @ cindygraves.wordpress.com"][/caption]