There's no title. Just look what I made!

So this is a milestone, for many reasons. This is the first project that I successfully completed, from beginning to end, in one week. Never mind the fact I've had this piece for years with full intentions of redoing it. When the hyper-focus and motivation kicked in we got it done. We bought all the paint and supplies last week and this week its done. Spring Break '14 was a success! This is also the first project that my husband and I have done TOGETHER that we didn't argue over something. We agreed on color schemes and design and worked so well together. See, we have a very Lucy/Ricky relationship. Except T doesn't have a Cuban accent so it's not near as cute when he gets on to me. But in every way I'm like Lucille Ball. There have even been actual life events where I've stuffed chocolate in my mouth and down my bra. I digress. 

This was a laminate particle board computer desk. I bought it from a friend for $30 to use as my craft desk. This is where the magic happens, folks. This old piece has seen many a hair bow and heard several hot glue-gun induced cuss words. With the help and motivation of two talented, (and selfless) gals from my LifePack, we got inspired to do this piece and an entertainment center revamp (coming in a few days). I can now sit and piddle at my craft desk and be inspired. Inspired that if I really concentrate and focus on something, I really can do it. And T and I have found that we really enjoy refinishing furniture together. Who knew? 

Peace, Love and DIY 

Too much to handle alone...

So many times people unknowingly use the phrase "God won't give you more than you can handle" in a way they think would be encouraging. In fact, this isn't true at all. There are many challenges in life that are, in fact, too much for us to handle. That is, too much for us to handle ALONE. We face so many obstacles in this human life on earth. The financial stresses of losing a bread-winning job, the betrayal of a friendship, the loss of a child, mental struggles of anxiety and depression, the pain of seeing a loved one fight cancer, a marriage ruined by infidelity, and I could go on and on for days. All of these things would be insurmountable without the help of God's grace. This has been on my heart for a few weeks and I was given a wonderful illustration today. 

My husband was unloading our car with groceries and I was inside starting to put them away. I heard some noise on the back porch along with the sound of grocery bags dragging the ground. I came outside to find AK with FOUR grocery bags on each arm. Now, AK is a mere 49 pounds. She had almost that much weight in those eight bags. "I told him I could do it!" she said to me as she stumbled through the back door spilling our hard earned groceries. The bags had been scraped on the sidewalk, she had hurt her tiny fingers as the plastic wrapped around them, and I'm sure I lost an apple along the way. My hubs, T called from the driveway, "I told her I would get them! She can't carry that many!" And then BAM. Jesus.

How many times do we take on all of our troubles and worries and say, "God, I've got it! I can handle this!" 

He is our Daddy, and He's telling us, "No. This is why I'm here. Cast all your worries upon me. I'm the one that can handle it."

We put ourselves through the worry, the pain, the guilt of sin that He never meant for us to carry alone. He's standing there, with arms wide open, waiting for us to give it all to Him. And all we do is fight, saying "I've got it!"

We were never meant to go at it alone. He is always there. Waiting for us.

"Casting all your care upon Him, for He cares for you."
1 Peter 5:7 NKJV

#momoftheyear

Ok, here's a new blog post for all of my loyal followers. Dedicated to all three of you. You know who you are.

So, a few weeks back I had a deeply moving and spiritual blog post to write about. Then I forgot to write it and it was all gone. So that ship has sailed. Sorry you missed it. This blog post is waaaayyyyy different than that.

Today was one of "those days" again. I've had an ongoing headache for a week and that makes me Grumpy Mommy. Big time. On top of that the akps decided to forego naptime. In lieu of rest, they decided to aggravate each other and the little akp tore apart her room. Again. I begged and beat pleaded with them to clean up because we had a busy evening to get going. After picking up just the "trip-able" clutter, I put them in the bath. I armed them with tear-free soap and washcloths and said "Go for it!" We were late for dance class and I had a meeting after dance at the church. We had to leave in 15 minutes. I laid out all the tights, leotards and tutus and started making a picnic dinner. Here is where it all went wrong.
My oldest AKP has been having tummy troubles and the allergist has recommended a trial period diet of no milk, wheat or chicken. I want to die. It's challenging. I proceeded to pack a dinner-on-the-go of gluten free deli ham, fresh fruit, organic gummies.. you know, the usual. I went to pour some almond milk and thought "Hey, I'm going to be a great Mom and add some milk-free chocolate syrup as a special treat!" Yay me, right?! I opened the new bottle, tore off the little foil cap thingy and proceeded to "shake well" as it instructed me to do. Then it hit the fan. Literally. The top popped off and chocolate syrup spewed all over the cabinets, floors, ceiling, counter tops, etc etc. All of my spirituality left my body and my stresses from the day blurted themselves from my mouth in an epically loud "$HIT!!!!!!!"
(Now, I'll give those of you a minute who just got a nose bleed to get down off your high horse. If none of my previous posts have made it clear to you, here it is: Amy K is not perfect. Now, take a breather, call a counselor. Do what you have to do. Get over it.)
As soon as I said it, I realized my volume filter was obviously not on and .0034 seconds after the curse word slipped out, I hear from the bathroom my child say, "Uh oh, Mom just said $hit." It was at that point they knew it got real. I don't condone cursing in front of children, but they definitely straightened up. For 20 minutes. Then it was back to catty bickering as usual. Life with girls, am I right?
The moral of the story? Well, there isn't one. It was cathartic to write about my horrible afternoon and in a weird way helped me get my joy back. The devil has been coming up with crazy ways to steal my joy and its up to me to get it back. Well, would ya look at that. I did have something spiritual to say.

I'm clearly not perfect...

I'm going to start doing some retro-active posts. I've just started blogging and I have so many stories to tell so I'm going to throw out some blasts from my pasts. I was going to do it on a Throwback Thursday or Flashback Friday but, well, I'm busy you guys. So forgive me, I'm doing it on a Saturday. Also, I have no clever alliteration to go with Saturday. 

Ok, so what had happened was... (If you know me, imagine me starting this story just like that, with my hands flailing around expressively.)

Last year, at this time, T and I decided it was time for our first trip away from the girls. We thought it would be fun to visit Savannah because of the history and nostalgia. T left me in charge of finding a place to stay for the weekend, which he really should have known better. I hate researching things because #1: my girls see me on the laptop and decide to flush and/or eat things they know they shouldn't and #2: my ADD causes some serious distress in staying focused long enough to make a comparative list of possible lodging. I was online for a solid week and a half until I finally found a hotel, outside of the "historic district" that we could afford. We were broke as a joke. February is that sad period of time. It's the after-Christmas and before-tax income period of time that just sucks financially. Oh, you don't have that? Ok, well you're dismissed. Anyways, I made a reservation over the phone, gave them our credit card info and we were set! We were so excited to finally get away for a weekend!
We drop the girls off at my parents with their clothes for the weekend and the entire stash of their Valentine candy. (They are grandparents. They had it coming.) T and I head down to Savannah. I google the address of the hotel and find it and we head that way. We show up and they say they don't have our reservation on file. SHUT UP. I tried my best to tell that half-wit bimbo that our reservation was most certainly on file. After a fatherly lecturing from my precious husband, that was somehow filtered by a veil of love, I still couldn't believe that I was to blame for messing this up. It went like this, "Honey, why wouldn't you print out an email confirmation? Did you keep any kind of record? That's really irresponsible." I tried pulling up any email from the hotel and found nothing. So we went on our way trying to find a hotel with any vacancy at 7:00pm. We found a hotel for that one night, and then a different hotel for the second night. Whatever. It was a place to stay and we were going to make the best of it. We stayed in our sub-par hotel that night and ventured out into the beautiful downtown area of Savannah the next day. The first thing we did was stop at a souvenir shop to buy something for the girls. We found the cutest little pirate book and some "parrot poop" candy. I went to pay with our credit card (which we never use, but has better protection when traveling) and the lady said "Um, this is declined." I'm sorry, wha? It can't be. Try again. "It still says declined." We leave the store and I sit outside on a park bench with a nice old man playing guitar and some other dude making roses out of grass. The bank says they mailed out new cards and those were invalid now, even though not out of date. They were useless. Well. No big deal, we'll use our debit cards. Let's just enjoy the weekend. And we did. We walked, and ate, and walked, and ate, and shopped, and walked. It was the best time for the two of us to remember what it was like before the daily-ness of marriage and kids.

Fast forward two weeks. My husband was (compulsively) checking the bank accounts when he calls me in a panic. "Hey, we have a charge on the credit card that looks like its from a hotel?! We didn't even use them in Savannah? Call and figure this out!" Yeah, sure. I look it up and find the number that goes along with the charge and call them. "Thank you for calling Courtyard in Midtown" I begin to tell them my story about coming in and them not having our reservation and wondering why we were charged for that night when we didn't stay there. I was a little annoyed. She said "We have this down as a failure to show up or cancel so you were charged for the room" Oh no she didn't. We most certainly showed up and there was no room in the inn! I asked for a manger to call me back. This is an outrage! I called T and said "Courtyard said they have it down as we didn't show up?! Can you believe them?!" My sweet husband said, "Courtyard? We went to Country Inn??"
...
Imma need to call you back.
I then channeled all my focus into what had just happened.
I had made the reservations at Courtyard at Midtown and showed up at Country Inn at Midtown.
My ADD had just hit a new high, or low, not sure which way it goes. I had seen so many hotels and B&B's and condos over the last few weeks that they all blurred together. I showed up at the wrong hotel expecting them to have my reservation for a place two miles away. I then realized I had to call my hubs and tell him that it was truly and whole heartedly my fault. He literally had no words. Well, he did. He said it was time for me to reconsider medication. I called the hotel back and tried my best to explain my mistake and beg them to give me a refund. It took two months but I finally got it refunded. Win for me.

This has to be *one* of my most embarrassing moments, by far, but I still find it wildly amusing that I could be so flighty. Then I realize dinner has been in the oven for an hour and I've never turned it on.. and I think "Yep. It can happen."

Here we go again...

I mean, really?!? Let me set the scene for today (it looks like the last blogpost, minus the puking): I'm finally recuperating from the virus from Hell. I took a shower. Yesterday. I'm wearing Christmas tree fleece pj pants and a white tshirt. And no bra. I mean, its a snow day. Who wears a bra on a snow day? Anyhoo... I feel like mother of the year because I cooked bacon and eggs for the AKPs for breakfast. I even had coffee today. Win. We're on movie #3 of the day and haven't done a single productive thing. Little akp turns on Strawberry Shortcake "Cherry Jam" which is in fact, her jam. She goes to put on her favorite dance costume to dance along with her movie. No biggie. Then someone knocks at the door. *Please be the mailman that knocks and then walks away*
I open the door, obviously forgetting that I'm wearing a white tshirt and no bra, let alone my Christmas tree pajama pants. Beside me stands my four year old in a sleeveless dance costume, fully exposed to the 32 degree weather. There stands a nice young fellow with a hunter green jacket that reads TERMINIX. Well, shiz.
Terminix Guy: Good morning.
Me: Hi. *painful look*
TG: Did you not know I was coming today?
Me: (*Does it look like I'm dressed for company?!*) Well, I may or may not have checked that voicemail.
TG: Ok, I can treat the outside and give you a minute.
Me: Alright girls, we need to clean up! Quick!
TG: *laughs*

Why. Why can't I have those snow days like my FB friends have? Their kids sipping hot cocoa by the fire ,(well, we don't have a fire place, scratch that one) playing board games, building snowmen with actual bodies...

Oh well. I guess I'll try and get my act together today. I'll start with a shower. And a bra. Just in case...

I can't even title this.

Let me set the scene: One girl is hanging on to the porcelain throne like it's Channing Tatum in "Magic Mike." One girl is running around the house half naked. One girl is haphazardly making pb&j sandwiches. The basket of clean laundry on the couch has been knocked to the floor. There is a bottle of syrup lying on the carpet. The entire bag of rice cakes are open and strewn about. Last night's dinner pans are still on the stove. Thirty seven nail polish bottles are all over the living room. A plate with a half-eaten waffle is on the living room floor.
This is not a scene from a sorority party house movie. This was my life yesterday. I was facing internal explosions of epic proportions while the smaller AKPs ran crazy without supervision. Of course, T was at work. Power waits for no man, and no man waits for power. Oh, did I mention we are in the middle of Snowmageddon14?! Iced in. There was no hope.
Then the scene changed to one similar to that of "ET". Two face-masked, gloved angels walked through my back door. They could have been wearing hazmat suits, not sure. They quickly gave me some Gatorade and Phenergan (the heaven drug for nausea) and whipped my girls into cleaning mode as they Lysoled everything in sight. Pop and GiGi to the rescue! They layed the AKPs down for nap, all of us, Lysoled some more and left. T came home early and had daddy daughter fun time as mommy lay on her death bed. They went out in the snow and played in an empty laundry basket. (Probably the one holding the clean laundry from before) They had dinner and watched "Frozen" online while snuggled on the couch. All the while, I lay in a Phenergan induced coma-sleep.
Seventeen hours in the bed, I was finally forced to get up this morning. T greeted me with some Gatorade and the question of "Are you going to be ok? I need to go to work." Ugh. I managed a shower and two crackers. I feel hungover. Every core muscle hurts and I have a dehydration headache. I walk into the living room to see every Sofia the First figurine and toy all over the floor. Let the day begin...

Spiritual Level: 3.5

It was Sunday Funday! Today was an amazing day at our church. From the worship songs, to the extremely personal message from our most awesome pastor, God was so present you could taste it. Well ok, not taste it. But if God had a flavor, it'd be chocolate. Anyhoo...
T and I had an awesome time at church and then we had an equally great time at our LifePack tonight. It's a wonderful group of friends that can get together and laugh, eat, talk about the message, and laugh more. It was a fun time. We get home and the girls are waiting on T to read them their nightly Bible story. They read one every single night out of their "Beginner's Bible" and they look forward to that special time with Daddy. Lately, we've added a family prayer time. The AKPs enjoy us praying as a family rather than one on one tucking them into bed. T read their story to them and after some good snuggles we were ready for family prayer. I'm feeling very blessed and looking for some really thought provoking prayers and thank yous to God for all he's done. It starts off with akp, the youngest.

"Dear God, thank you for food and drinks. Thank you for a house for us to live in.... so we don't have to sleep outside and have dogs pee on us."

And there it went.

The spiritual level went from a solid 7 to a 3.5 in mere seconds.

Only her.