Some things:

• I am flying solo for dinner again tonight which directly translates into ICE CREAM OUT OF THE CARTOOOOOON! And then again when Adam gets some so he WON'T SUSPECT A THING. Except that I just told him.
• A nerdy thing I have been utilizing lately to make life easier: Dropbox. Store files "in the cloud" for FREE and access them anywhere...and also have a backup of Very Important Files. You can also share files and/or encrypt them. SO MUCH NERDINESS IN ONE SENTENCE! 
• I am married to the Energizer Bunny. I seriously do not know how he does it. Well, coffee is a large part of that answer. But still.
• I think mid-week holidays totally ruin my motivation. Which really just means I need to celebrate more, you know, so I get in the habit.
• We randomly have a lot of coconut milk at home. Ideas?!

Snow cones.

I woke up this morning thinking about Theresa F. from fourth grade.

This is what I remember about her:

1. She had freckles.
2. She had very long, very straight brown hair that reached all the way down her back and swung back and forth. Sometimes she would flip it around really fast to swat off boys on the playground.
3. She was confident.
4. When we took attendance (alphabetically, by last name) in the morning, hers was the sixth name called. This may sound strange, but when you grow up attending a very small school, you remember these kinds of things. I can also tell you the five names that came before her: Jake, Drew, JoAnna, Cody, and Kory. (I was waaaay down the line forever hoping that the teacher would call "backwards alphabet" day.)
5. Mostly, I remember this: once in third (or possibly, fourth) grade, I walked home with Theresa from school and got to hang out for awhile before my mom picked me up. It was winter. Snow piled up on the ground and we sat in her upstairs bedroom discussing really important things like can you be-LIEVE that Brad picked SQUARE DANCING when it was his birthday and could choose ANYTHING at ALL to do for gym class...AND HE CHOSE SQUARE DANCING?!?!?!, etc. And we peered out her upstairs window and she said "I have an idea!" and she opened her window and the cold gushed in and she said, "Follow my lead." Then she stretched her arm out into the cold and scooped up some snow that had gathered on top of the carport outside her window. And giggling, I did the same. And she plunked her snowball into a cup and I did, too. And she rummaged in her desk and found a fistful of Pixie sticks and we sprinkled bright green and purple and orange dust onto our snow and swirled it around and ate a really weird tangy icy homemade snow cone. And it wasn't that good, to be honest, but it was fun and exciting and exactly the kind of thing that should fill up a childhood. And I wonder if I saw her today at the grocery store if she would remember me. And I wonder if she would remember our snow cones. And I wonder why of all the moments in my many years my brain chose to remind me of this one, today of all days. I think it's a delightful mystery.

p.s. Brad really did choose square dancing. I had kind of forgotten about that until now and it STILL BAFFLES ME. (!!!!!!!!)

Teeter, totter.

I am learning some things about balance lately. I am realizing that things won't ever be easier. That each season has its own challenges. That there really is no time like the present.

I am realizing that my priorities are changing. I can see that I am not who I was just a few years ago and that is okay. In fact, I am learning that it is more than okay.

I am fighting that same internal battle of perfectionism, but I am calling it out now and mercifully, finally listening to the voices around me that tell me I am doing a good job. Even if it doesn't look neat and clean. I am trying to let go more often.

I am failing sometimes. I am trying to be excited about that, because it means I am trying. This is hard for me.

I am trying to make time for what matters and make time count. I am always feeling like I haven't quite figured out how to do that. I am trying to give myself more grace.

I am giving thanks more often. Even if it's for our dumb ol' air mattress that is in the middle of my living room and TOTALLY CRAMPING MY STYLE. I am thankful for a warm place to rest my head during these cold winter days. I am thankful for a night home with my husband when I attempt "healthy cookies" (HA, HA) even when they turn out all weird and funky-textured and I throw my last bite in the trash. And though I've had more sick days this year than ever (truly, ever!) before, I am thankful for that phone call from home "just callin' to check in" because they let me whine my sorrows away and don't tell me to suck it up.

I am just dancing along, sometimes grabbing onto Adam for balance, but mostly just holding his hand.

It's a good year.

A for Effort.

There is no one better to have by your side during a crisis than my husband.

He is pretty good at celebrating also, but he is REALLY good at responding when life throws you curve balls.

Take, for example, our recent EXTREMELY UNFORTUNATE AND ILL-TIMED discovery of a sopping wet mattress due to a (surprise!!!!) ceiling leak.

I held it together for day one but on day two, and more leakage...let's just say my wits were not about me. In fact, my wits were spilling out of my ears.

Adam, so calm, so cool, so collected, says ever-so dearly, "Hey, you know, no big deal. We'll just set up the air mattress. It'll be like camping...in our living room!"

To which I sweetly responded, "THAT IS MY WORST NIGHTMAAAAAAARE."

To which he said, "Your worst nightmare would include way more animals."

Touche.

Question:

Do other people have as many awkward social interactions as me?

Related:

Are other people as aware of their awkwardness during the aforementioned awkward interaction as me? 

Further:

Does this line of thinking make me an extreme narcissist?

Even Further:

Does the fact that I am asking such a question on my own personal blog make me like, sooooo postmodern?


p.s. Not to be super pushy but if you are looking for a delicious treat and/or a breakfast recipe, make these. I have made the "bites" both times. The first time I did exactly as I was told. The second time I got super daring and REPLACED the chocolate chips with 1/2 c dried cranberries and 1/2 c almonds. THEY ARE SO GOOD! I eat them with yogurt in the morning. (My dad just gagged at my recipe suggestion. AGAIN.)
Note: I had the best luck with these when a) using my hands to mix (so I could tell when the granola was moist) and b) by using my cupcake pan WITH NO LINERS. Otherwise it is messy. And that is just no fun.

p.s.s. Raise your hand if you did indeed find my p.s. to be "super pushy." Sometimes writing off the cuff can be hilarious.

Queen for a day.

Remember when you were a little kid and had to write that essay that started off like "If I got to be President for a day, I would..." and then what followed was a laundry list of promises that sounded eerily similar to the same exact promises we made to each other when running for student council? (Four day school weeks! Free pop for everyone! No more MEATLOAF MONDAYS! PIZZA PARTIES EVERY DAY! It's our RIGHT! WHO'S WITH ME?!)

No one asks me anymore what I would do if I called the shots. Probably because I'm an "adult" and therefore I "make my own decisions." HAHA. Just kidding guys. I don't really know what I'm doing most of the time and even when I think I do, I am often proven wrong by this little thing called Life.

The point is, I tried this new recipe last week. My b-f-f Sarah said I need to embrace the crock pot and you know what? I agree. Who wants to cook when they get home from a day of work? Not this moi. I have way too much Damages to watch for that kind of thing.

So, I turned to the trusty Pinterest and found this gem.

It's risky, you know, trying a new recipe and all and for some reason the slow cooker heightens the anticipation because you just don't know what's going to happen when you remove the lid after 10 hours.

Luckily for everyone, this recipe was a major success. NOT ONLY did my husband eat this for three meals straight, but after his first bite, his eyes lit up and he said AND I QUOTE, "You are Queen of the Crockpot."

Soooo yeah. Movin up in the world. And as your Crockpot Queen, I would just like to say--nay, MANDATE--FREE POP FOR EVERYONE! And someone please invent calorie-free brownies already. IT'S OUR RIGHT!

Who's with me?!

p.s. Make this soup. Unless you are a hater (ahem, DAD) and upon hearing the very WORDS "sweet potato", wrinkle your nose in disgust and say, "Ughhhhh. That is gross." In which case you are banished from my kingdom but can buy your way back in with ice cream.

It's complicated.

The problem with doing hard things is that well, it's hard.

It's a romantic notion, sure, but in practice? It can be kind of terrible.

I mean, who wants to wake up with their stomach all in knots? Who wants to risk failure or embarrassment or...well, really anything at all?

There is a reason, after all, that we have not done that hard thing already.

There is no reason, in many cases, that we have to do that hard thing at all.

So to choose it? To choose challenge, sacrifice, interruption in mere hopes that in the end, it will be worth it?

How absurd!

And yet...