Updates

Finally out of my first trimester! Man, was this one tough! Lots more nausea, fatigue, out of control emotions. Thank you to modern medicine for the gift of Zofran and for my doctor's updated list of "safe" medications. None of which I needed with Harper. Which leaves me convinced I'm having a boy. We will find out the day after Christmas!

Now that I am feeling more alert, we've begun the search for a kindergarten for Harper. Since we've chosen to live urban there are fewer free options. But we've been excited about some of the special programs we've seen so far. We toured a French immersion charter school on Monday. Though I'm not sure the exact benefit of a 6-year-old speaking fluent French (as opposed to say, Spanish), I'm pretty excited about the long-term academic scores of the students and the cool, international teaching staff!

Speaking of Harper, I'm not looking forward to the doubling of my parental anxiety with kid #2. Yesterday, in an effort to make mommy and daddy proud of her being such a big girl, Harper went outside and crossed the street. By herself. Without telling us. It's one of those moments you hear about where you turn your back for one minute and your child is gone. Josh and I both looked out the front door and there she was, standing across the street in the neighbor's yard. I was so thankful that she and I had practiced looking both ways and crossing at that very place, over and over. But she also knows she isn't allowed outside unsupervised. Unfortunately, when Josh and I stepped outside and yelled "Harper!", she was so scared that she ran back across the street without looking where she was going. Thank god nothing happened but chalk that up as our first "heart stopping" moment.

But in better news, this...

This was in the entertainment aisle of a store and Harper insisted I get a picture. We were looking for some music for her CD player (yes, we still listen to music the old fashioned way), and I found an old Madonna album in the $5 bin. So, I'm feeling more sympathy for my Dad who didn't allow Madonna in the house when I was a kid. While it seems so innocuous now, what with all the smut on the radio, I don't suppose I actually want my daughter at school singing "Like a Virgin." So, I get it Dad. I get it. Luckily, she's more a fan of "Material Girl" which, if I remember correctly, was a heavy rotation favorite on the playroom jukebox of a certain Katy, Texas household. Memories! To balance that out, we also found a Monkees album. I'm finding that right now, Harper pretty much likes anything that I insist is a "really good song." She won't know how terrible my music preferences are until much later.

This is what happens...

When you make fun of pregnant ladies on your blog:

Thank you for visiting me, Christy! And for making me hold that sign. (sigh :))

I give up on secrets

So, I'm pregnant. I am the annoying person who is posting before I'm out of my first trimester. In weighing the repercussions, I guess if something bad happens before 13 weeks, I don't think I'd feel bad about sharing early. But between my husband and my mother (ok, and me too), everyone knows already. If you don't, congratulations! You are the last to know. hee.

I am not a big fan of the pregnant Facebook post so I'm not gonna do that. I also am not going to post a weekly picture with a hand drawn "I'm 13 weeks" picture in front of my stomach. boo. I also am not going to use the terms "bump," "preggo," or "preggers." ew. It's like "moist," "scrumptious," and "runny." These words just should never be used. I'm sorry if you use these words/have posted these types of pictures/love it when people do. I'm not trying to be insulting. But really, cut it out.

I tried to post some other inane update today but this is ALL I CAN THINK ABOUT. I can't think about anything else because I'm trying every half hour of every day not to throw up on my desk. It's gross. I can't find anything good to eat. Maternity clothes are ugly. U-G-L-Y. And expensive. I think I'm just going to get a few sets of those full body, mechanic's coveralls.

But, I'm happy, really I am (at least during those few minutes each day when my stomach settles). And it's a nice way to cap off a crappy year. It's something we just didn't know if we'd be able to do. And by "do" I mean afford, the "doing" part was fairly easy. Ok, gross. I'm sorry. It's the baby talking. I'm really sorry, I'm just not myself lately.

But there you have it. I'm due next spring--another May baby!

Being Poor-Whatever

I found this blog post today, via CNN, regarding what it feels like to live in poverty. The author, John Scalzi, grew up in a poor, single parent household. I feel enraged sometimes during this election--and I'm not going to get on a political soapbox right now. Everyone who knows me, knows I'm a Democrat. That's not the point--politicians are just, as cliched as the phrase goes, out of touch. Really, I don't know how you can live the life of a politician without being out of touch. It just goes with the territory.

The blog post made me think of several things. First, though I know that Josh and I have been "poor" for awhile now, we don't feel truly poor. You want to know the difference between temporary poverty and generational, relentless poverty? Choice. We grew up with choices. And everything we've been pushed to  accomplish since birth has just given us the ability to make different and better choices as we go along.

Anyway, the post by John Scalzi from his blog, "Whatever" paints the reality of those living on the other end of the spectrum:

Being poor is knowing exactly how much everything costs.

Being poor is getting angry at your kids for asking for all the crap they see on TV.

Being poor is having to keep buying $800 cars because they’re what you can afford, and then having the cars break down on you, because there’s not an $800 car in America that’s worth a damn.

Being poor is hoping the toothache goes away.

Being poor is knowing your kid goes to friends’ houses but never has friends over to yours.

Being poor is going to the restroom before you get in the school lunch line so your friends will be ahead of you and won’t hear you say “I get free lunch” when you get to the cashier.

Being poor is living next to the freeway.

Being poor is coming back to the car with your children in the back seat, clutching that box of Raisin Bran you just bought and trying to think of a way to make the kids understand that the box has to last.

Being poor is wondering if your well-off sibling is lying when he says he doesn’t mind when you ask for help.

Being poor is off-brand toys.

Being poor is a heater in only one room of the house.

Being poor is knowing you can’t leave $5 on the coffee table when your friends are around.

Being poor is hoping your kids don’t have a growth spurt.

Being poor is stealing meat from the store, frying it up before your mom gets home and then telling her she doesn’t have make dinner tonight because you’re not hungry anyway.

Being poor is Goodwill underwear.

Being poor is not enough space for everyone who lives with you.

Being poor is feeling the glued soles tear off your supermarket shoes when you run around the playground.

Being poor is your kid’s school being the one with the 15-year-old textbooks and no air conditioning.

Being poor is thinking $8 an hour is a really good deal.

Being poor is relying on people who don’t give a damn about you.

Being poor is an overnight shift under florescent lights.

Being poor is finding the letter your mom wrote to your dad, begging him for the child support.

Being poor is a bathtub you have to empty into the toilet.

Being poor is stopping the car to take a lamp from a stranger’s trash.

Being poor is making lunch for your kid when a cockroach skitters over the bread, and you looking over to see if your kid saw.

Being poor is believing a GED actually makes a goddamned difference.

Being poor is people angry at you just for walking around in the mall.

Being poor is not taking the job because you can’t find someone you trust to watch your kids.

Being poor is the police busting into the apartment right next to yours.

Being poor is not talking to that girl because she’ll probably just laugh at your clothes.

Being poor is hoping you’ll be invited for dinner.

Being poor is a sidewalk with lots of brown glass on it.

Being poor is people thinking they know something about you by the way you talk.

Being poor is needing that 35-cent raise.

Being poor is your kid’s teacher assuming you don’t have any books in your home.

Being poor is six dollars short on the utility bill and no way to close the gap.

Being poor is crying when you drop the mac and cheese on the floor.

Being poor is knowing you work as hard as anyone, anywhere.

Being poor is people surprised to discover you’re not actually stupid.

Being poor is people surprised to discover you’re not actually lazy.

Being poor is a six-hour wait in an emergency room with a sick child asleep on your lap.

Being poor is never buying anything someone else hasn’t bought first.

Being poor is picking the 10 cent ramen instead of the 12 cent ramen because that’s two extra packages for every dollar.

Being poor is having to live with choices you didn’t know you made when you were 14 years old.

Being poor is getting tired of people wanting you to be grateful.

Being poor is knowing you’re being judged.

Being poor is a box of crayons and a $1 coloring book from a community center Santa.

Being poor is checking the coin return slot of every soda machine you go by.

Being poor is deciding that it’s all right to base a relationship on shelter.

Being poor is knowing you really shouldn’t spend that buck on a Lotto ticket.

Being poor is hoping the register lady will spot you the dime.

Being poor is feeling helpless when your child makes the same mistakes you did, and won’t listen to you beg them against doing so.

Being poor is a cough that doesn’t go away.

Being poor is making sure you don’t spill on the couch, just in case you have to give it back before the lease is up.

Being poor is a $200 paycheck advance from a company that takes $250 when the paycheck comes in.

Being poor is four years of night classes for an Associates of Art degree.

Being poor is a lumpy futon bed.

Being poor is knowing where the shelter is.

Being poor is people who have never been poor wondering why you choose to be so.

Being poor is knowing how hard it is to stop being poor.

Being poor is seeing how few options you have.

Being poor is running in place.

Being poor is people wondering why you didn’t leave.

____________________________________________________________

I forgive you if you didn't read the whole list. I didn't even relate to these until I worked 6 years in low-income housing and then had my mini-taste of poverty. But if I have one message it's that true poverty is not a choice. Because people living in true poverty have few, if any choices. They can't just "get it together" and go "fix" themselves. I can't tell you how many people actually think that this is how it works. It is a hard, slow, sloggy, uphill journey to leave poverty and it requires many caring hands, many caring individuals, lots of bravery, and yes, even some government assistance.

And I will tell you something else--even people who don't work, who live solely off of government assistance, who are addicted to substances, who rely on men (b/c we're mostly talking about single mothers here) who abuse them, who trade sex for milk money, diapers, or shelter, who are the lowest of the low--poverty is not a badge of honor for them. They don't wish to be in that position. They don't wish for that sort of life for their children as poverty gets passed from one generation to the next. I've met enough of these women to know this to be true.

Now--I'm going to switch to my religious side (I'm warning I don't have much of one), but, if we, who call ourselves Christians, buy into what our leaders tell us--that poor people are lazy, that they don't deserve our love and compassion, that they are sucking away our taxes, our futures, our hard earned money, then we are not living the example Jesus set for us. I'm not a scripture quoter, I don't get to church every Sunday, I certainly don't talk to people about my Christianity, tepid though it is. But I know, with every fiber of my being, through every experience I've had, and through every scholarly Biblical lecture I've sat through, Jesus would not have turned his back on the poor. He would not have been proud of a Christian movement condemning and demonizing people in poverty.

I hope that if you were lucky enough to grow up outside of poverty, or even had very little but had parents who sheltered you, protected you, and taught you how to move up in the world, you remember that.

Monday Report

Thank you for the website recommendations dedicated to frugal living. Got some good emails and word-of-mouth suggestions. Now, to find time to peruse and put frugality into action...

My brain isn't working today so this will be an unfocused post. We moved into our new home last weekend--finally! We didn't actually spend the night until Friday, though. I took the day off to get some things (lots of things) unpacked and organized but wouldn't you know it--Harper got strep throat. So we spent Friday morning at the doctor's office getting her all better. 

This is after the strep test. Her lips are blue because she got a blue sucker after all the gagging. It was Harper's first time with strep and the doctor was being so upbeat and cheerful about the impending gag sticks she was about to swipe at the back of H's throat. For some reason I thought this was really funny and I dissolved into a laughing fit--especially when she told H in a sing-song voice to put her hands under her bottom (so she wouldn't try to prematurely grab the swabs out of the doctor's hands). Harper was all smiles because obviously she just saw the sucker and didn't know what was coming.

Anyway, she's always a champ at the doctor. She was so proud of herself because she got three of her immunizations last week and didn't even cry. Big girl.

After we got home, Harper watched a lot of Blue's Clues, Dora, and Busytown Mysteries. I tried really hard to get us unpacked but without a lot of luck. At least the kitchen and bedrooms are functional. We had one major plumbing problem before moving in (even though we had about a hundred and one different inspections). Luckily, our home warranty covered it but now there is a bit gaping hole in the dining room. My fix-it husband will get to it, he swears. But I'm not rushing him, because he spent two whole days this weekend fixing a sewage back up in the basement. He is a hero!  These were both pretty minor issues that shouldn't be a continuing problem, thank goodness.

In better news, I woke up at 6:15 this morning and enjoyed a very cool, quiet morning on the front porch with my tea and the Washington Post. Oh wow, it was great! I've wanted a front porch for so long. It's the little things! It is also really fantastic to live around the corner from our very good friends, the Kerr's. They have three little kids and we saw them more this weekend than we have in the last month combined.

Also, in regards to my previous "stigmatized property" post, we don't talk about it anymore now that we live in the house. The subject is off limits because it is too creepy. So, if you want to know, you can google 4315 Charlotte--but not right before bedtime. And don't do an image search. That is all.

Pictures!! Harper and Dora--my mom sent a get well balloon along with dinner delivered from our downtown grocery store. It was very much appreciated!

Trying to get Harper to take more pictures. She's a natural:

Frugality...

Frugality means eating free candy from your co-workers for lunch. But I think I'd like to do better than this so can someone please recommend their favorite blogs or websites for the following:

• Easy recipes
• Home organizing
• Kids' stuff

The general theme I'm looking for is cheap, frugal, creative, extra cheap. I've started adding some blogs to my Blog List over there for easy access. But I need more ideas. Help!

From the Archives!

Let's play a game...

...I'll start. If you knew that your new home was across the street from a "stigmatized" property, would you still want to move in?

If you don't know what a "stigmatized" property is, google it.

I'm not going to tell you what went on across the street from our new house yet. Maybe tomorrow.

Don't worry. My enthusiasm about our house has not waned from the previous post. That place shoots rainbows and butterflies from the chimney. But let's just say that this Halloween should be interesting...

New Beginnings

This is our new house. We haven't closed on it yet but I think it's safe to say that we will be living here shortly. In the meantime, I have a pretty generous mother-in-law who has let us crash at her place. Someone suggested that I write more about our economic situation; but to do it anonymously so that I can say whatever I want without being embarrassed. Since very few, to no people read my blog I don't think I have to be anonymous. Plus, I'm used to embarrassing myself, so whatever. This will just be a time capsule of journaling for later.

I haven't posted in a year because frankly, the last year has been hell. No deaths, no ill children, no major tragedy--so I try not to dwell or be overly dramatic. But things have been bad, then worse, then better, then worse, then mostly just maintaining. So this post is to new beginnings.

In early 2009, Josh was laid off in a huge wave of layoffs hitting Kansas City in the architecture/engineering/anything-related-to-construction industry. What followed was sporadic work, an attempt to be self-employed and drum up our own business, and a dry well followed by explosive panic and self-deprecation. We lost everything. Our savings, retirement accounts, our sanity, and very nearly our relationship. We lost our home--though it was an awesome, quick sale rather than the foreclosure we were dreading. But for the grace of our parents and families we would have been in someone's basement long ago. If we had no family at all, we would have been in a shelter. We've lost lots and lots of pride.

We really, really tried to make things work financially. But there just aren't quick answers now. Believe me, begging for work is painful, humiliating, and really, super, super humiliating. Rejection is worse. I was lucky to transfer to a new, pretty solid, full time job back in January while Josh, god bless him, spent hours contemplating why he wasn't a good enough husband/father in between those aforementioned rejections. Ugh. So not pretty.

There are probably 100 new and surprising things I learned though:

I will work 3 jobs to pay our bills

I could survive in very questionable housing as long as I have my husband and daughter

When people say that money isn’t what’s important; they’re usually the ones that have a lot

I will sacrifice anything for my daughter so that none of this last year comes close to touching her

Though it’s the toughest economy we’ve experienced, people are still pretty scary mean towards folks on welfare and people out of work

There’s a lot I can do with a dollar

I’m just generally a badass

So that’s 7 things. I’m not actually going to list 100. I think that last one encapsulates pretty much everything you need to know. But back to that house—we looked everywhere for somewhere to live. There were many, many grueling days of wondering if we could afford anything—even a cheap, cheap rental. This house was the last thing we looked at. It was cheaper per month than any rental; it was in fairly good shape; it was owned by someone who ironically, couldn’t afford to keep it and needed to unload it quickly.

Getting into the house has taken every last dime. Luckily, Josh got a very part-time job with a pretty cool non-profit a few months ago. That has helped. We aren’t out of the hole but we’re nearing the top. Our year coming up looks treacherous but manageable. We’re selling a car to save money and familiarizing ourselves with a very crappy public transportation system. We’re still able to send Harper to school, thank god, but that’s pretty much the only major “purchase” each month. I no longer dread getting out of bed every morning.

It’s still hard to be around people who have a lot. It’s so hard to admit that because it’s ugly. It’s one of the things I should have added to that list up there—I’m full of envy—like, a lot of envy. I envy people who take vacations. I envy people who can afford “extras”—like cable and fancy shampoo. I envy people who don’t have to take a calculator to the grocery store. I know one of the hardest things for Josh has been seeing our friends and acquaintances have their second or even third child--knowing we've not been able to afford having more.

But I'm looking at that house as a form of redemption. I don't know what parts of life we got wrong and what parts were out of our hands from the beginning. It really doesn't make any difference to worry about that now. That house will be a safe, comforting place. AND that house has walls and a roof--which is a plus. It even has a basement and a yard--double plus! Harper's best friends live around the corner, we are within walking distance of a park, and WALLS! and a ROOF! And they are ours--we own them...all on our own! When I look at it, I feel like things might actually be okay--even good!  

So here's to new beginnings. May the next 12 months not be a repeat of the last 12. May I remember that Dollar Tree has the best deals when what I really want is to go to Target. May we never forget the lessons that being flat broke has taught us. And when I don't want to get out of bed in the morning, might I remember that the floor I step onto, and the walls, oh those walls, and that roof over my head are mine! My family is there--and my new life is there!

Old Pictures

I love cleaning out my inbox and coming across old pictures. I found a ton my grandpa sent to me a few years ago:

The Van Sickle grandkids:

Mima Tom, 5yrs

Mima Tom, 19 yrs

The Twins

Me and Great-Papa Hartenbower

Hoping to have more as I go through old emails from my Mom and sister. I love, love, love pictures!

On another note, Harper got in trouble at school a couple days ago for "smoking" sticks. I have to admit that this is the first time, as a parent, that I've been kind of mortified. I asked her to show me what smoking looks like thinking that surely, there must have been a mistake. But sure enough, she raised two fingers to her lips and started blowing.

Man. Maybe most kids do this. I'm sure that other parents smoke around their kids and since she got caught doing this with another little boy, I'm going to assume that he taught her about smoking. EXCEPT, the next day when I asked a teacher about it, she told me Harper said, "my parents smoke." Gah. Preschoolers are dangerous. And I totally know that I'm going to be the parent who always blames "those other bad kids" every time she gets in trouble. Dangerous, I tell you.

Weddings, Part 3

Uncle Gregg, Aunt Carey Ann, & Beautiful Molly P.

Jeana & Cousin John. Awesome.

Sharing dinner

Molly, John, Harper

Love. Pure Love.

Austen's noise cancelling headphones for when her parents take her partying

Weddings, Part Dos

The Twins with Austen

Cousins! Harper and Austen

Papa Tom, Uncle Gregg, Brother-in-Law Brad, and Mima Tom

Mom & Dad

The Brothers--Andrew & John giving their sister Kelley a moving toast

Flower Girl Friends on the dancefloor

Cousins with Papa

Mom & Harper waiting for wedding pictures

Family! Andrew, Kelley, Dad, Mom, Alexandria, & Taylor

Weddings!

My cousin Kelley got married a couple of weeks ago. She moved to KC after college and it's given us lots and lots of time to hang out. She asked Harper to be a flower girl and Harper, of course, had a blast!

Kelley and Tommy jetted off to Aruba post-wedding and Josh, Harper, and I were able to stick around in Topeka to spend time with Kelley's older brother John from NYC. He and his girlfriend, Molly, were a huge hit with the big H.

Here are a million gajillion pictures:

The Bride and Groom

Rehearsal

Rehearsal Dinner: Cousin John with Austen, Me & Brad

Alexandria & Serious Josh with Austen

Jill & Cousin John

Storms

Well neither Jill nor I were safe from the tornadoes this week. I know that Jill has to deal with this stuff all the time in Oklahoma, but yesterday was only the second time in 10 years that the sirens have gone off in Kansas City.

Thought I'd share some pictures that Josh and I took the day before our tornado adventure. Some ugly clouds rolled through around noon and we took these pictures outside of our office window.

This one was taken by someone at the newspaper:

When the sirens went off yesterday, Harper was at the office with me and rather than messing around with the details of where the storm was we just headed straight to the Arts Incubator basement. The images of Joplin had me spooked.

What we found in the basement was pretty creepy, but comforting--a concrete tunnel that started at the Incubator and went for about a block underground. Crazy paranoid that I am, I found a pickaxe and a shovel and walked them to the end of the tunnel. I figured if we went in and the door was blocked by falling debris, we could dig our way out.

Anyway--I'm so happy that my sister, husband, and their daughter were okay in OKC. The tornado was only a few miles from their home. Hopefully we'll have a bad weather break for awhile!

I am slowly going crazy

So this will be of interest to absolutely no one. In fact it may stand to make me look a little crazy. I know that's hard to believe since I am such a sane, well balanced, and not at all hysterical type of person.

But so anyways...Every year I pull out a battered copy of this book called "102 Minutes: the Untold Story of the Fight to Survive Inside the Twin Towers." Let me just back up a minute and say it's a miracle that I'm reading again. Since Harper was born three years ago I can't stay focused long enough to finish a book. I don't mean that she interrupts me, I mean that I really, actually can't focus.

So jumping back into reading was kind of a slow process and it started out well--I reread some Jane Austen classics, I of course read some business-related books, I read some books my Dad gave me that were a wee more intellectual than Jane Austen classics. And let me back up some more and say, as an aside, that my Dad's reading collection intimidates me and I take the stacks of books he gives me, dutifully try to read them (sometimes succeeding), and then I get sidetracked by People Magazine and pretend that because his copy of "An American Tragedy" sits prominently on my coffee table that that's enough to convince people that I am not all about like, Twilight and stuff.

So back to the "102 Minutes" book. The book is about how ineffective safety planning, safety procedures, and safety codes were at the World Trade Center. And also it's the story of what happened inside the towers exclusively from the point of view of the people who escaped and from the loved ones who received phone calls and messages. Usually I skip over the technical parts about building codes and go straight to the stories of escape. So this year's go-round with the book was the first time I actually paid attention to the technical stuff.

Then I got on Netflix and watched every documentary related to 9/11. Then I went to the book store and bought:
"Wake-Up Call: The Political Education of a 9/11 Widow"
"The Looming Tower: Al-Qaeda and the Road to 9/11"
"The Ground Truth: The Untold Story of America Under Attack on 9/11"
"Inside 9/11: What Really Happened"

And you know what--three days later I've already blazed through two books. And here's the crazy. I've lost all self-control. Here's what I ordered online yesterday:

"Against All Enemies: Inside America's War on Terror"
"Plan of Attack"
"The 9/11 Commission Report"
"9/11"
"Watching the World Change: The Stories Behind the Images of 9/11"
"What We Saw: the Events of September 11, 2001--In Words, Pictures, and Video"
"After September 11th: New York and the World"
"Debunking 9/11 Myths: Why Conspiracy Theories Can't Stand Up to the Facts"

That's 8 books people. Oh but FYI--if you are looking for cheap books go to the Half-Priced Books website. Even with their crazy ridiculous shipping charges, these books were still just $5 each. Steal!

So there's the most simple explanation that I am riveted by all this information because it's interesting and I'm absolutely sure I will continue to bore you with details both here and in person. Also, I have a daughter and I'm scared about our national security so why not push my paranoia-inducing fear to the brink. Mom--remember when you sent Jill and I "emergency kits" in college which included disposable germ masks and you kept telling us to keep our gas tanks full in case we had to "get out of town"?

It wasn't in anyone's plan that I be normal or well-adjusted.

Finally, let me just say that if you're reading this, I know that you enjoy these posts. Oh sure, you love seeing my daughter, but I know you completely love seeing me become slowly unhinged.

So here's what you can do to help me. Give me a job. There are lots of you out there--maybe you know of some great administrative position in the area of arts, education, youth development, entrepreneurial awesomeness, or general bad-assness. Or, send me some money to go back to school. I'll set up a paypal account--you can donate anonymously and I promise it's okay to donate just because you feel kind of sorry for me and my mild pathetic-ness. Or if you need an architect, hire my personal slave and sole employee, Joshua Best. He'll do a bang-up job.

Finally, I am going to be an ace at 9/11 political background, national security facts and functions, conspiracy theories, timelines, minor and major tidbits of massive amounts of tragedy-related information. Surely this could be parlayed into some kind of lobbying, roundtable discussion, or being a professional party killer. Just remember, it's up to you. Not me. You. If I completely crack it's on your shoulders and I don't think you want to carry that burden for the rest of your lives.

And in closing, in case you are wondering, I would be returning to school for a Master's in Psychological Counseling. Irony? You decide.

Videos unlocked

Now you can watch the videos below. Oops.

Catching Up

So after taking a self-imposed break from work and stress for a couple of weeks, I am finally ready to post some catching-up photos from Harper's birthday and whatnot.

Her school has the sweetest birthday celebrations for each student. Harper got to help make carrot cake muffins in the kitchen for all of her classmates. Then, Josh and I came in as special guests for the actual party. Harper stood in the middle of the room while the kids sang to her and she shared pictures of herself as a baby, and then at 1, 2, and 3-years-old. Then the teachers got out the "jumpy house" for the kids to play in.

Here's a video from part of the birthday celebration (this is probably something only the grandparents will enjoy since it's a little lengthy :)



In other Best news, I finally got to go storm chasing with my friend Mike Smith. He is a former television meteorologist who started his own weather forecasting company about 20 years ago. Recently, he published a book about the history of the weather warning system.

Unfortunately we didn't see anything. Not even a good rain. It was really fun to see the process though, and to find out just how storm chasing works. I hope that I get to go again this season. I would love to join a group here, but I'm not sure I'd trust anyone else to take me.

Storm clouds forming, but they quickly began breaking up.

Mike with his book.

Also, a new hobby for me may be this:

Not that I can do that, exactly. Josh bought me aerial "silks" classes for Mother's Day. It's really just a fun, dance-related way to build upper body strength. If I'm lucky, maybe I'll be able to pull myself up and do a little twirl.

And here's one more video of H with her "church friends," just because. I was cleaning out my camera and thought I'd share:

Happy Birthday Harper!

Party pics coming soon...

Wiped Out

50 to 60 hour weeks for 6 months straight and I am wiped out. That doesn't include all of the hours I've put into thinking, dreaming, and sweating with anxiety about the business. And I OWNED it. I've owned every inch of this business even though I had no technical knowledge of the field to begin with.

The good news is that six months of setting up an office infrastructure, networking our butts off, creating a business and marketing plan and studying for licensing exams has paid off...For one of us, at least. With work continuing to trickle in, Josh can continue to "pull his own weight," so to speak. I however, cannot. It just doesn't look like the market is going to support the both of us right now.

It's frustrating, heartbreaking, and a huge blow to my often-fragile self-esteem. I know what I (and we) have accomplished, but I am so angry that I have to leave this now. I have to switch gears completely and go back to being away from my daughter, my husband, and my household. It hurts.

We did this business thing because not only did Josh seriously need help to carry the load, but because it would give us the chance to be together and to hopefully balance work and family. It has been great in that sense. Working two separate jobs, full-time for the past three years of Harper's life has been unfulfilling, to say the least. Throw in the nearly year and half that Josh was struggling to find work and it was downright excruciating. The last six months seemed to be our silver lining.

I think that we knew we were being a little unrealistic with our goals. But as long as there was a chance we could pull it off--why not take it? I'm very proud that the business is running fairly smoothly enough now that Josh is able to work and bring in a salary. Our hard work has paid off to that extent. But now what do I do?

I've found myself getting a little ugly lately. Seriously envying people who have no financial concerns. Friends who can stay home with their children, or choose to work or not to work, or who have businesses that are thriving, or who can just afford to take a little vacation now and then. Sometimes I feel like the only person going through this, and then of course I remember all the families who have been hit even harder in this economy.

Right now I just feel like a belligerent child, stomping around yelling about things not being fair. Every night I try to go through the list of things I'm grateful for and then I pray for a little miracle to keep me on board with the business and with our dream. And that's really the point to me anyways. The passion isn't necessarily what we're doing day-to-day. I don't really have a big interest in architecture or design. The dream for me is about doing something bigger, better, more life changing, more beneficial to the community, and something we can do together as a family.

I know we'll get there at some point. Things never quite happen like I plan them, but as Josh says, we always land on our feet (no doubt thanks to some great support from our family and friends). I'm really impatient and really exhausted though. I'm really frustrated, sad, and angry.

I was at a conference this past week where the keynote speaker was the author of "Creating Your Best Life." She said something like, people who have achieved great happiness and success have suffered an average of 3-4 major setbacks in their life (this is a really butchered summary of her actual words). I'm sure this is because setbacks build character, make you reevaluate your life, change course, blah, blah, blah. Well my little foot stomping, inner child is yelling: "I'm tired of the setbacks! I've worked too hard and gone through too much heartache! It's my turn to be happy!"

Just so I don't get anymore melodramatic I'll add this last bit...I will get over this. I'll move on and hopefully with all of the "character" I've built, I'll be able to put something new and interesting together. Hopefully it will pay the bills and get us back on our feet. Hopefully it won't take me away from my daughter or my husband for too many hours. Hopefully when the economy improves I'll be able to get back on board with the business or at least some venture that better benefits my family. I'll still be praying for that little miracle, but then I'll get realistic, lighten up, and put together a solid plan. Rebounding has definitely become one of my new and treasured character traits!

Now, since it's late...my late-night, grateful, good things list: thank you mom and dad, thank you my beautiful daughter, thank you my supportive husband, thank you Netflix for the distraction, thank you Alexandria for the sparkly manicure, thank you McDonald's strawberry/banana smoothies, thank you Nebraska Furniture Mart for the 18-month, no-interest financing to replace our broken washer and dryer, thank "The Wire" TV series for showing me the pitfalls of drug dealing tho' in desperate times it's mildly appealing, and finally, thank you for Harper's very first class picture comprised of scowling teachers, silly faces, snotty noses, hair pulling, and visible underpants, for giving me an uncontrollable laughing fit for a good five minutes this afternoon. Felt pretty good. Amen.

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