PART ONE:

I had an anxiety attack last night.  It wasn’t a big one like in years past, but it wasn’t a teensy, tiny one that I could get through without bringing out the good old lorazepam either.  That was the first time in a while too.  Shoot.

Sometimes, it just creeps up like that.  Here I am going through life doing a-okay: posting pictures of our new home, smiling happily and in love with my rock-star husband, and honestly going a little crazy over my near perfect moving binder complete with inventory spreadsheets of every box that’s now blocking simple walkways in our home.  Pretty irrevocable if you asked me.  In fact, I’m pretty sure that as little as 72 hours ago, I said something like this to Trey:

“Okay, don’t hold me to this….” (adding that in because… well… the reason for this post…)

“I actually kind of like moving.  It gives me this really awesome opportunity to purge and organize like crazy.  It’s giving me a vision for our new home that will surely NEED a feature in REAL SIMPLE when I’m through with it…”

Trey: <chokes on dinner> (because surely I must be kidding)

“But don’t hold me to it.”

My back hurts and I’m sick of the boxes that are taking up room in my home that’s reverting back into a plain old house with every photo that’s packed and every stray sock that’s thrown in the garbage.  And I legit cried over the wife I was last year when I was packing Trey’s coat and a receipt fell out.  I was reminded of date nights with him that didn’t have us at home with take-out watching Netflix.  I could almost put money on it that I was showered, did my make-up, AND EVEN blow-dried my hair… perhaps even gone for a run earlier too.  The point: we were intentional.

This damn life is like Mount Kilimanjaro right now- packing all day, every day, from the moment Trey leaves, right on into when he gets home (which for the record is at least ten hours).  And can I please just boycott my house and this home?!  And can we talk about my last post, is it ironic, Jesus, or just the cruel devil reminding me that this is all worth something?!

In between my angered, suffocated chest and the chase of breaths that I just couldn’t seem to catch, my thoughts flew by like a wildfire that no matter how hard I tried, couldn’t be extinguished.  My husband held me tightly like he does, as we waited for the ashes to dissipate into the aftermath…

The kitchen.  The dishes.  The unfolded laundry.  The mess.   The messes.  THOSE BOXES!!

My parents house….

the contractor…

the cleaners…

the listing price… Dad…  Infertility…  The… …. … … …….{lorazepam}

But seriously- how would YOU function??

Among the tears, I remember saying something like, “Can I just die until tomorrow…” and I drifted into a deep “worry-free” sleep.  But everyday is a new day….and that was my last lorazepam, so here I woke:

The crock-pot that he couldn’t even put in the damn refrigerator.  The reminder that his laundered shirts are still at the dry cleaner.  And this morning: he. ate. my. cereal.  AND only left a swallow of milk for me…..

Those tiny sparks that are floating off of the ashes are about to catch my breath.

The sane part of me is walking around with a fire extinguisher and a phone with Trey’s number on speed dial, telling him asking him politely to take some time off of work to stay home and help me finish.  The crazy in me is screaming “SHOULDN’T THAT COME FROM HIM ANY WAY?!?!” but wait, isn’t this supposed to be my job?  

The struggle is real: is there a job description for SAHW, or would this all fall under “other duties as assigned” any way?

—

Marriage 101: COMMUNICATE.  clearly we must have been sleeping through the section that covered “moving do’s and don’ts”.

Interpersonal Relations 101: ASK FOR HELP.  clearly I have a case of OCD and do not trust others with my insane inventory spreadsheet moving system (to be future-featured in REAL SIMPLE).  

Acceptance 501: YOU HAVE ANXIETY.  JUST BREATHE.

PART TWO:

My husband and I are moving.  It’s not an easy task; packing up our first home as the subtle prompts are speaking to our emotional and nostalgic hearts reminding us that this was the place we truly became an “us.”

There’s a crib in the guest room that we really not only thought but trusted we’d be using here and a wedding dress that’s hanging in a spare closet.  It’s the home where I learned to become a wife: to submit to my husband out of love; to cherish him for all the ways that he is loving me.  When I’m having my moments; the ways that he holds me when I can’t breathe, the way he works to provide a home that I can proudly keep (mostly), he’s a good, good, man. 

Our house goes on the market in 7 days and while I’ve figured out this moving thing pretty dang well, it is my 18th time after all, I still need help.

We’ve hired contractors for things that I already know how to do, but we’re running out of time (#theregoesmypride).  There’s a giant POD that will be in our driveway in 48 hours, and then we’ll say goodbye to our possessions for at least 3 months (#firstworldproblems).  There are boxes that are waiting to be packed full of more junk.  And then I need to neatly organize each box for our friends who will be helping us load the pod (because nobody likes helping with an unorganized move).  I could easily say “something’s gotta go,” but it’s not exactly how I work.  My husband knows that so instead decides to clench the moment with:

“We’re in the home stretch, Sweetie…”

IT’S A DOUBLE HEADER!!!!  There’s another house that’s waiting to go through the same process and we only have three weeks to do it!

I want to quit.  I just want to boycott my house and home right now.  St. Thomas really was a lovely place to visit…. to continue with my procrastination, as soon as I am finished writing this, I’m going to start looking at tickets for me, myself, and I.  I’ll book my returning flight for May 26.

BUT REMEMBER, WE’RE BLESSED.  I’m an anxious mess, but we’re blessed.  My husband has agreed to take tomorrow and Friday… AND Monday off of work to help me in the “home stretch.”  #blessed.

He’ll hold me and encourage me like he always does, and we’ll get it done.  He’ll buy more milk on his way home so that I can continue packing without disruptions.  He may even pick up his own dry-cleaning so that I can focus on the small home repairs that I hate paying someone else to do.  #blessed

He’ll come home and remind me of the smiles that were taking place outside of the walls of our current home while we stood in the wall-less rooms of our future home. #blessed

He’ll remind me of the many, MANY friends and family we’ll host here… starting with my niecey-Kate and brother, Jeff.

and I’ll be distracted thinking about my brother climbing the beams of our home…

and of my Trey trying to keep up with them…

I’ll stop to take in the special moments with my parents.

We’ll remind each other of these moments in the future…and cherish every moment both easy and hard.

He’ll remind me of the laughter that breaks past the anxiety.

and then, he’ll stand next to me holding that silver lamp while I write it into my very special moving binder before placing it in the box with random pens, and leftover pocket change (that of course were also inventoried.)

He’ll shake his head with a murmured “yes, dear” when I cry “uncle” …and then I’ll drop into a tireless rest with him by my side, waking to my own voice of yearning: “wake up, kick ass, repeat.”

ps. moving is hard.

pps. life is harder.

ppps. marriage with him isn’t.

Beholding isn’t always cake but maybe just, like, a small piece of pie…and whipped cream.

I thought maybe it’d be fun to showcase some photos from our first Valentines together.  That was two-ish months into our relationship but about six-weeks into, “let’s get married this year and freak our families out because we moved so quickly.”

To break the shock a little more for some, we decided to start out at my dear old sister-cousin’s with the nieces.  (by the way- she called me last night to tell me that she had a parent-freak out moment because she forgot to order valentines from me! Those pics are later in the post…)  As an uncle of 5 boys, NO nieces, making valentines might have been a little much for my Trey.  The pancakes and cute kids helped. ps. don’t judge our beetle pancakes.

But he still knew how to do it right…a locket and some wine.  No really- this is how we I “knew” so quickly! pps. need to find that wine again.

That was 2 years ago.  To be honest, I don’t really remember what we did last year.  But I do know so much has happened in 2 years.  These girls have grown SO MUCH and Trey knows a lot more about being an uncle to them.  “Shopkins” is a regular in his vocabulary as are the protective, “Would I approve of Jake and Charlie?” questions.  He’s totally winning at the “uncle” thing, but then again, I think he always has been.

And hey, he’s still doing “us” right too…but that goes without saying!  He’s pretty great at knowing exactly how many days we’ve been married, surprising me with special warm fuzzy types of gifts, and even doing the dishes without needing to be asked (maybe my dish slamming worked!). And me, well—I don’t do the warm fuzzies quite as well.  And to compensate, I think that’s probably why our special days have become somewhat of a game instead.  Who gives the better gifts, who surprises each other better, who made the other laugh or cry…. because you know that’s what the holidays and spirit of giving are really about… The only problem is; I’m still the “loser.”

Two weeks ago, (yes!  I said TWO weeks ago, that’s big in my little procrastination-habitually distracted-world) I was doing our weekly shopping at Wal-Mart, when I passed by the Valentines, and something came over me.  And no it wasn’t inquisitiveness at the smelly and poorly dressed “people of Wal-Mart” making me question “Why?! Just. Whyyyy?!”  No, it was this moment when my life became a cartoon, I was Scrat (the squirrel in Ice Age) and the Valentine aisle (the acorn) lit up with some sort of brilliant music playing in the background.

“I’m going to win Valentines!!”

I got my card.  I hid it in the pantry.  And this morning while he was walking Sasha, I ran downstairs to give it to him before he left for work.

I made him cry.  #winning

Truth be told- I married a sensitive man so it isn’t entirely hard to do, but… since he didn’t get me a card, I think it was really the guilt that got him…

“Soooo… that means I won, right?  I win Valentines Day?!!!!”

…that was up until he told me he was late for work but was going to go to the store to buy me cereal.  P.S. in case you’re thinking, “He went from a necklace and wine to cereal in 2 years?!” Don’t worry, to me, cereal is the morning’s equivalent.  AND he bought 3 kinds!!

And now next year, I’ll have to spend my extra two weeks doing some outrageous craft…to try and win…again

{insert the sounds of my cereal crunching as I keep on chewing}

—

Somehow, I’m supposed to tie this whole story into how we’re beholding life, one.day.at.a.time.  Here we go…

I’ve got some beef with these stupid hallmark holidays.  Though a self-proclaimed-sucker who spent $6 on a card that Trey didn’t even take to work with him, I still find it so absurd that we spend one day a year recognizing the love that we have for the special people in our lives.  Mother’s Day and Father’s Day really get me too- recognize your parents everyday people—let them know you appreciate them ALL THE TIME!  And thanksgiving, don’t even get me started.  And I know I sound all “bah-humbug,” but seriously, can we just throw them all out and do some “just-because” days all throughout the year?!!  I don’t even need to win them…I don’t..maybe just a little bit though.

And if we were to behold these “just because” type of days, maybe this is what I’d recognize instead: a day (that didn’t happen to fall on February 14) with two of my longest and most loved valentines, and one with my newest, and forever valentine.  Falling more deeply in love with the people they are, feeling so preciously thankful that they love me too.

She really was a great skiier….”it was that damn lift”  Truth: It really was!

and this kid=fear.less.  FEARLESS.  She can’t turn worth squat so don’t even get me started on how fast we were going to keep up with her…. it’s okay, she’ll get there!

note: this is NOT her mother on the ground.

note: THIS is how you get off of a ski lift… but I’m not pointing fingers or mentioning any names.

Unfortunately, her mother preferred to exit like this.  “Mommy, don’t do it like this.”

but the woman would get right back up and smile pretty for the camera.  She on the other hand was owning the turns.

and he gives me butterflies.  I say that a lot.  He gives them a lot.

and we’re….

down.

The jury is still out on whether it’s a torn MCL.  She heard a pop.  We’re hoping next year’s “just because” day will end a little better.  But on the bright side, HOW CUTE IS RAMSEY?! (aka the bearded medic)

and on another “just because” day, maybe I’d make this sweet little puppy my valentine on non-Valentine’s Day because he’s my favorite in the T.V. FAN CLUB.  And he loves his “Auntie Tole”

and maybe I’d have a “just because” Sunday with my forever valentine, dreaming up big dreams for our future. (ps. this is your weekly house update, compare the pic at the end to this one below– CRAZY, huh?!)

John (my FIL) goes, “that’s a lot of wood.”  Yes, sir it is!

And in the spirit of a “Just Because” day, we’d eat BBQ and play some country-livin’ baseball with two other valentines that have the absolute cutest giggles.  Just because.

as much as I’d love to have all girls someday, Trey is going to need moments like this… 

…I’ve decided that there’s nothing better to do than go ahead and have a good time and get the most we can out of life.  Eat, drink, and make the most of your job.  It’s God’s gift
ECCLESIASTES 3:9-13 (The Message)

—

These “Just Because” Days have been so much better than any SAD Galentine’s Valentine’s day.  We’re living these days lovin’ so many of God’s gifts in our lives.  And guess what, there were no cards needed.  No winning needed kind of.  and in the end, I’m pretty sure I’d still be asking him to be my valentine, just because.

Here’s a couple other pics from our home visit last week.

Sasha marked the land as hers…and then posed for the camera.  Is she my dog or IS SHE MY DOG!?

…I searched my mind in that moment to find all the most encouraging answers; ones that would propel he to keep walking in good faith no matter how deep the obsta…blah blah blah…

Then I “liked” the post instead.

This morning I had a crazy bad dream.  Something about one of my biggest regrets while Obama was in office… not sending him a wedding invitation so we could get a congratulatory piece of paper signed by him and Michelle.  No matter political affiliation—it’d still be pretty cool to have.  I digress.  The stupid dream woke me up at 4am.  FOUR. FRICKIN’. A. M.

Naturally I woke up Trey.  Naturally.

“I had a bad dream that you left me because President Obama wanted to be friends with me…”

“Not gonna happen…” {rolled over and started snoring}

Was he talking about leaving me… or me becoming BFF with Mr. Obama.  {insert my shrugs and squints}.  Either way, I think I could handle the outcome.

So I laid there going through a thousand to-do’s in my head.  There’s a buzzfeed post circulating right now all about people and their lists.  Was that written for you?? {raises hand}

I have to pack.  Like, our house goes on the market in a month pack!  I have to market both biz’es.  ..and there’s the towels that have now been sitting in the washer for 2 days that are now, probably starting to smell like mildew.  And I’m behind in these posts.  Again.  And Sasha has this protruding, abscess that makes me cry if I think too much about it.  And it’s now 4:28 and maybe I should just fold the clean laundry that’s laying on the floor in front of the dryer.

…and Proverbs 31- why does she do it?

In case, you’re still sitting here reading and still wondering what Proverbs 31 is/says, let me enlighten you with this excerpt of the Spirit of Truth:

A good woman is hard to find, and worth far more than diamonds.
Her husband trusts her without reserve, and never has reason to regret it.
Never spiteful, she treats him generously all her life long.
She shops around for the best yarns and cottons, and enjoys knitting and sewing.
She’s like a trading ship that sails to faraway places and brings back exotic surprises.
She’s up before dawn, preparing breakfast for her family and organizing her day.
She looks over a field and buys it, then, with money she’s put aside, plants a garden.
First thing in the morning, she dresses for work, rolls up her sleeves, eager to get started.
She senses the worth of her work, is in no hurry to call it quits for the day.
She’s skilled in the crafts of home and hearth, diligent in homemaking.
She’s quick to assist anyone in need, reaches out to help the poor.
She doesn’t worry about her family when it snows; their winter clothes are all mended and ready to wear.
She makes her own clothing, and dresses in colorful linens and silks.
Her husband is greatly respected when he deliberates with the city fathers.
She designs gowns and sells them, brings the sweaters she knits to the dress shops.
Her clothes are well-made and elegant, and she always faces tomorrow with a smile.
When she speaks she has something worthwhile to say, and she always says it kindly.
She keeps an eye on everyone in her household, and keeps them all busy and productive.
Her children respect and bless her; her husband joins in with words of praise: “Many women have done wonderful things, but you’ve outclassed them all!”
Charm can mislead and beauty soon fades.
The woman to be admired and praised is the woman who lives in the Fear-of-God.
Give her everything she deserves!
Festoon her life with praises!

PROVERBS 31:10-31 (THE MESSAGE) emphasis mine

Just wondering, anyone else read that ticking such prideful accomplishments away like that checklist I was building in my mind at 4 am.

I had like, six, maybe seven on a good day.  Let’s be real, I know I should probably be humbler about it… but.  I’ve got SEVEN (since you know, today is probably the only day that I’m up before dawn… and actually, I’m probably not going to be making breakfast today because it’s an on-the-go kind of day).  SEVEN.  SIX AND A HALF.  And as someone who, just yesterday only counted three ticks, this matters.  {insert your cheering and applause} Thank you, thank you very much.

Listen, I was folding laundry at 4:31 A.M.  (while in my mind reciting and questioning the words that came to memory.  Convenient how they were these: “A good woman is hard to find…” and “The woman to be admired and praised is…”)

Before I get started with this—You.  Right there.  Yes, you.  You’re doing a great job.  That list you just made of Proverbs 31 “ticks,” throw it out.  I just ripped mine apart.

Because listen, I need the reminder daily that I’m ALREADY worth far more than diamonds.  Do you think there’s a reason the writer started with this?  Know your worth, dang it!  God made you and then He died for you.

This week, I’ve been overwhelmed.  I slammed dishes in the sink so that my Trey would know that I’m soooo over doing dishes this week.  Because clearly that’s a better way to communicate.

And last week, I didn’t make the bed one single day, because I waited to see if maybe he would.  Because clearly he can read my mind.

And yesterday, I worked for 9 straight hours on my business only to end the afternoon all melancholy and hung up because I didn’t complete any of my “diligent homemaking” duties that were on my list.  The dishes were still there, and the bed was unmade, so… why not?  There I went.  But dinner was calling, and Trey was wanting to introvert, and the nephews make us smile, and Lawdy my father-in-love was coming over and shoot if I didn’t hit the jackpot when I got my husband and John as my FIL!  …and does this doing-life thing ever take a break?!

Obvs, when I hit the pillow, I hit it hard.  …until 4.

And there I was, 4:31 a.m. folding laundry.  And sweet Robynn- this is why: “She senses the worth of her work!”

Look, we don’t get the recognition all the time, and we don’t need to keep track of it.  And when I say we—obviously, I’m talking only about “me.”  But God, the one who created us; He knows our hearts, and He knows that life isn’t easy!  His life sure as heck wasn’t, look how it ended… right?  But He also knows, what we’re doing, even if I am just scraping by… it’s worth something.

It’s so easy for me to go through this “list” pre-kids, wondering how in the world if I can’t do it all now, how I’ll be able to do it all then.  But what’s the point!?  No matter how hard you’re I’m striving to be this perfect woman (which by the way there is no perfect woman), the one who is praised at the end is the one who fears God; the one who respects His sacrifice for us.  Trust in His words.  We are worthy and our work has worth.

So… it’s now 6:24.  I folded our laundry, did some photog-ing stuff… and am left with this passage after all that contemplation and realization.

These words I speak to you are not incidental additions to your life, homeowner improvements to your standard of living.  They are foundational words, words to build a life on.  If you work these words into your life, you are like a smart carpenter who built his house on solid rock.  Rain poured down, the river flooded, a tornado hit—but nothing moved that house. It was fixed to the rock.

But if you just use my words in Bible studies and don’t work them into your life, you are like a stupid carpenter who built his house on the sandy beach. When a storm rolled in and the waves came up, it collapsed like a house of cards.

MATTHEW  7:24-27 (The Message) emphasis mine.

—

in case you missed it, we’re building our life in this new home currently under construction.

I guess it seems fitting to build it on these words, a solid rock.

I had a friend who did this, buried a bible in the foundation of her home.  When she did, I always told myself, I would someday do it too.  There’s something so unbelievably humbling about the experience.  Submitting all to Jesus.  We each took the Bible and wrote in it our prayers of thanksgiving and sovereignty for the future, our future in this home together.  And then we held hands and prayed, our voices echoing in the newly poured walls of home.

It amazes us from week to week how we see such change.  I spend days thinking that I’m never going to get “there” wherever that might be, while in these weeks that drift by transformation is occurring.  What a parallel, this from that!

I never thought I’d be so excited to tear down trees, breaking down nature like it’s mine.  ..hah! Oh the irony.

Every time we’d visit the home site, Trey would say “I just can’t see it… among these trees… where is the house going to go?!?!?!”  This was the moment he saw it.  He cried.  and then I did too.  and then we were one big sloppy mess.

In love all over again and beholding this life that doesn’t always seem like a gift… but is.

So I took this and threw up pretty over it.

It had this yucky green 1-inch pieces of tile…oh and a few spritzes of white.  The green toilet.  The “mink” walls that we originally thought would compliment the green.  Oh wait- quick poll, is that a green toilet or a yellow one?  Mother and I can’t seem to agree on it.  And look, two toilet paper holders?  What about the hardware…. It needed me to throw up pretty, admit it!

The first thing I did was paint.  I painted the walls “Seashell Grey” by Valspar.  Then I painted the cabinets “Wet Pavement” also by Valspar.

But then came the difficult part.  THE COUNTERTOP.  Maybe not difficult, just stinky!  I got a foam roller and Rustoleum  Counter top coating.  When I say stinky, I mean it… as in it’s been a week and the smell still lingers…. But they’re white. and not green… or yellow…

You might notice in this picture that the floor is different too.  I PAINTED IT.  Yes, it has already been scratched and YES I’ve already had to touch up a few spots, but it’s so SO worth it!  Look at how much brighter it is already!  To pain the floor I used Valspar Floor and Porch Paint.  It took two coats and I still have plenty left (for the inevitable touch ups I’ll do before a big party or company).  At least now, I’m not embarrassed to show guests the bathroom.

The mirror was difficult to replace because it is hung on paneling.  And quite frankly, I didn’t see the need to make the expense.  Dad is going to replace the light fixture for me also (as soon as I find more time to go to Lowe’s with him).

But look!

I got these shelves at my second home aka The Container Store during their shelving sale, 30% of.  For the two, a total of maybe $25.  I got the baskets and toothbrush thingy there too.  I also replaced the hardware- see the new towel ring?  There’s one next to the other sink too.  $5 each at Lowes.

Got a new curtain too.  On sale (do I know how to shop?? I mean come on!!) at Kohl’s along with the new carpets and toilet cover.  I mean look, the toilet doesn’t even look yellow or green anymore (at least from some angles).

See the new knobs on the cabinet?  Princessy (like me).

It’s better.  I want to build storage shelves where the vanity is.  My jewelry box (that my dad built me) and those drawers just take away from the new freshness of the bathroom.

And also, like I said, my dad will replace the light for me.

One last thing, the counter top paint bled onto the silver rim around the sink.  You can’t see it in the picture, but I know it’s there..and hate it.  I just need to find the time to either repaint/freshen up the metal rim, or scrape it with a razor blade.  Not so bad though.  I mean, I’ll pee and shower there, no problem!

—

So also, while the government was shutdown and I was furloughed (since my boss was furloughed) I gained 15 additional hours a week.  Mom had me paint the house and redecorate the living room.  I wish we had taken a before picture to do this justice.

We had these lime green curtains before.  BUT World Market had curtains on sale so we replaced all 8 panels (one window not shown).  I painted the house Churchill Hotel Wheat by Valspar.  It’s such a great neutral color that I swear changes throughout the day and night depending on how the light hits it.  We LOVE it (and so does everyone who comes by).

Before the room was “open.” Couches were thrown against the walls and the curio was on the left side of the room.  We decided to separate the rooms instead.  It’s pretty cozy now.  Oh and we bought the new sofa table too.  Before, pictures were kind of hung wherever they could be…this time we strategically placed them where they could really be complimented.  That one over the sofa table–it was a wedding gift to my parents 32 years ago.

And that’s it.  That’s how I was “pinter-come” and craftastic.