Skip--Who Used to be Rich Last Sunday

Right now it is 10:20 A.M. and I am alone in the house.  Camp and Jane are out of town with Becky and my mom, respectively (lucky!) and Danin and Skip are at Vacation Bible School until noon.  So I'm eating an Oreo blizzard for breakfast and writing on my blog.

Brian and I have spent countless hours over the last three weeks packing up, laying flooring, painting, touching up and cleaning our Mariners house.  Last night I mopped my way to the front door and said good-bye.

I'll miss that house, but even more--I'll miss our neighborhood and neighbors.  We were so safe and taken care of there.  Do you know that for the nine years we lived there, I don't know that we ever used a key to get into our house?  That's partly because we always went through the garage, but also because we so rarely locked our doors.  For years,  I have left my purse and keys in my unlocked van in the driveway.  Countless times, we have driven away from the house and unknowingly left our front door wide open--like all the way open--and I haven't worried about it.  That's cool.  The kids have essentially had a gated-off circular track on which to safely ride their bikes and a plethora of other wheeled apparatuses.   We've had neighbors call us before Halloween just to confirm that our kids would be trick-or-treating.  When Halloween fell on a Sunday, they gladly agreed to let the kids come a day early.  That's cool, too.  We've had neighbors join us for Christmas Eve dinner and and others for Easter dinner.  And the Holmes have spoiled us rotten for nine years--with attention, with service, with ingredients we were missing at times, with treats, with friendship... We've just been so lucky.  I guess I've already talked about all this though....

The good thing is--there are little blessing wherever you live.  In the rental (we've had to call this house the rental to distinguish it from the Mariners house since we've been in and out of both for the last three weeks), we live across the street from the Glowacki's and that has already been amazing.  They've already brought us banana-coconut muffins and entertained our kids for hours.  I've even been able to have Ava babysit already. Sooo nice.  We love them.  

And this house is nice, too.  It is not the new house that I have been decorating in my head for three years, but it is still a nice house.  It has a sunny playroom, people.  And storage.  Lots of storage.  Could it get any better?  Well, yes, it could.  But seriously--nothing says luxury to me like storage and a playroom.

So yeah, the new house....    Sigh...   We are so not close to starting it yet.  Did I tell you that we decided to draw the plans ourselves?  It seemed like such a good idea to Brian, but then he got too busy to work on them.  And there's no telling when he'll ever find the time..  I wish I could say this hasn't been super hard for me, but i'll be honest.  This has been super hard for me.  I've been looking forward to this ever since we bought our lot back in 2008, and the only thing keeping us from building on it has been the sale of our Mariners house.  

Here is our floor plan.  At least that part is mostly figured out. 

And here is the basic front elevation.  I'm hoping the facade will be grey shingles, though.

I'm trying to keep perspective.  I'm telling myself daily that many a life has been wasted dwelling on things that moth and rust doth corrupt and thieves can break through and steal... but it's hard.  You know?  It's hard.  Not AS hard, though, now that we have actually moved into the rental.  I'm arranging furniture and organizing closets, so my mind is busy and i'm still finding fulfillment in making things pretty the best i can.  The hardest part, really, is just not knowing how long we'll be here--not knowing if it is worth it to paint the walls and put holes in them, or just wait it out.  But I'll get through it.  It has already caused so much fighting between Brian and me, and the logical part of my brain knows it is not worth that.  There's nothing I'd rather do tonight when Brian finally gets home than to say, "Now that we're finally done with the other house, are you ready to work on the plans with me??"  But I know that would not be wise. I know Brian would just be totally irritated and we would fight and no work on the plans would get done.   And I'm trying to be wise for the first time in my life.  Man, it's hard.  How do wise people do it?

Hey, you wanna know what?   Several months back, I was praying about how difficult and frustrating it is for me to have Brian be so averse to communication--specifically about serious, consequential-type matters.  As I've told you, verbal communication (or even written, really.  I'll take what I can get.    As long as it includes words.  ) is like nutrients and air to me.  I need it to survive.   I just want so badly to be able to explain my feelings and worries and anxieties to Brian and just have him listen and work them out with me--without getting mad and shutting down.  But that never happens.  So I was telling Heavenly Father that in my prayers one day, and he said to me--I mean, I think he said to me--I mean, he didn't really SAY anything to me.  I just got the feeling he was saying to me:  Just tell ME.  When you're worried and anxious and frustrated about something, come tell ME, and I will forward that message to Brian.  It's easier for him to listen to me.   What a good idea!  The problem is though, it is SO HARD to keep my mouth shut with Brian, relying on Heavenly Father to deliver the message.  I haven't done it successfully yet.  Or I HADN'T been successful at it...until about 10 days ago. 

 I had become really, really worried and anxious about a particular business situation and I desperately wanted to bring up the issue with Brian.  I wanted to talk to him about it and come to an agreement.  But he wouldn't have it.  Soooo, I closed my mouth and walked away.  And as I was leaving, the thought came back to me:  Tell me, instead.  So I called my mom.  I told her about the prompting I had received months earlier and about the current situation.  I asked her to pray with me that I'd be able to use self restraint like never before to keep my mouth shut on the matter and just trust that God would deliver the message.  A while later, she called me back to let me know she felt confident I was doing the right thing.  We agreed that we would pray together and I would not bring up the situation again with Brian.  Rather, I would trust Brian to make the decision and hope that Heavenly Father would guide him.  And guess what??  I'm doing it!  I haven't brought it up since, and I'm having faith!  Yay!  There is hope for me, after all!  Oh, man.  I'm so proud of myself.    (Then again, magic things do always happen when I have my mom praying about something with me.  I've told you about the power of her prayers, right?  If you have something you need prayers for, call her.  On second thought, she might be too booked with my problems.  You may want to try next month.)   The thing is--even if Brian makes a decision I don't  agree with, my prayers will not have been for not (can I even say that?), because I will have still succeeded at using self control and supporting Brian.  So anyway...

Aaannndd, for the second time EVER, I resisted bringing up to Brian ANOTHER thing I became stressed and worried about.  I just went to my room and prayed all the things I wanted Brian to consider and then I paced around the house for a while giving myself motivational pep talks.  And I got through it!   (I know what you're thinking.  You're thinking Man, I can understand why Brian wouldn't want to talk to you about anything.  You're psycho!  I could be.  I could be. 

Yeah, so Brian and I have pretty much been fighting off and on for a few months now.  But it will be all right.  We'll get through it.

Other than that.  The kids are doing well--sassy, man, I'll tell ya!--but well.  We've had a wonderful summer so far.  Our trip through Utah and Vegas was wonderful.  It was relaxing and fun.  Fun because I was with my family and I was relaxed.  :)  I'm so grateful for my family.  

P.S.  I almost forgot to mention the inspiration for this post's title.  So a few months ago (as you may have seen on Instagram) Skip won $200 at our local Rhododendron Festival.  Can you believe it?  I thought Brian and I should be able to keep the money since it was our money that bought his winning raffle ticket, but Brian insisted he get to keep it.  So anyway, he's had about 160 bucks in his money box for the last few months (after paying tithing and buying a play gun).  Then, the other day, Camp became obsessed with one of those super cool, super fast remote control cars--the kind that go like 40mph and cost like $200.   And he was able to convince Skip go in on it with him.  So Skip contributed $160 and Camp contributed $20 (we found it for a good deal on Amazon).   Oh, man!  It's time for me to pick up my kids.  I'll be back.

OK.  Yeah, so anyway,  Camp has this new, totally awesome toy and Skip--who used to be rich last Sunday--is broke.   Five internet bucks for anyone who knows what this post's title is making reference to.  (Note:  internet bucks are only good on this blog :) )

 

P.S.S.  A while ago, I bought this couch on Florence Classifieds.  I loved it for its flat back and flat seat.  Flat back and flat seat means no broken down, smashed cushions.  Also, it is a $2000 Ethan Allan couch, so it's built pretty well.  I had it professionally rebuilt (I had them alter the frame a bit) and reupholstered.   It's actually been done for weeks, but because we've been moving and I'm now trying to figure out a place to put it, it is still waiting to come home. 

   I also scored these beauties at a thrift store for $20 each and can't wait to paint them in a bright gloss paint and have them upholstered in a bold corresponding fabric to complement my new couch.    Stay tuned....

The House That Built Me

My favorite assignment of the first (and last) Interior Design class I took at BYU required that I write in detail about the home in which I grew up.  I loved it.   There was so much to say.

And there is so much to say now, about this house that I live in and love--the house that is now owned by someone else.

We didn't design this home to be for us.  We planned to build and sell it.  The lot is long and narrow, so I found a long narrow house plan online and tweeked it a bit.  It wasn't until we had moved a bunch of our furniture into it in preparation for the 2006 Tour of Homes that we decided to buy it ourselves.

The front room started out as the cleanest, but least-used, room in the house.  Before too long, though, I couldn't stand the fact that we were wasting valuable square-footage, so we knocked out a doorway that connected the front room with the kitchen, and the room inhaled new life.  For the last few years, I have spent a considerable amount of time in this room, on the computer (doing payroll and taxes and other business stuff---and, let's be honest--shopping online) and looking out the front window where I can watch the kids play.  I was sitting here watching out the window the first time (and most times after that) that my kids set up a little table at the end of our driveway at which to sell their artwork.  I told them that maybe a dollar for each picture was too much.  After Tammy walked over and bought several pictures, they told me I was wrong.

And of course I have spent AT LEAST half of the last nine years in this kitchen.  I think my favorite things in the kitchen are my pot rack--because it's got lights and because I can just wash my pots and then hang them to dry--and my faucet.  I like it because it has a goose neck that allows me to still wash really deep pots in my sink, even though the sink itself isn't super deep.  (On a related note, I've realized that deep sinks are severely unergonomic (is that a word??) for me because I am just tall enough that reaching down into a deeper sink creates a noticeable strain on my back.)  It's been in there that I have too often cried (and hollered and grunted) over spilled milk.  Sigh......  And just last fall, Brian switched the location of the fridge and the pantry cupboard, and that has been a total game changer.  And of course, so many friendships have been born and developed over the kitchen table. :)

The family room has been the location of every Christmas morning and every family prayer--it's the room with the couch and the TV, so it's the room we've lived in.  Three of our four kids have learned to walk in that room.

 

Camp's and Skip's room was originally Janey's.  I first painted the walls yellow, then green later--after the room became Camp's--and finally grey a couple years ago.  It's walls and door are those that have endured years of frustration beatings.  But they're still standing and they continue to enclose good memories:  it's in there that the kids have slept on Christmas Eve; it's from there that Camp has called to me to come rub his back; its above that closet that we have kept the costume bucket and bean bags; its in there that Skip and his friends have taken the mattresses off the beds in order to hide in the secret compartments beneath them.  It's in there that the boys have read and slept together.  It was in there--in a wooden box that he built--that Camp got himself stuck and then prayed and cried as he watched Brian pass by outside the window as he(Brian) mowed the side-yard lawn.  It was in there that Skip first learned to sort and put away his own laundry.

Janey's and Danin's room has only been three colors, but only because painting it became much harder once we put in the trim treatment on the walls--which I've loved.   It's in there that I removed the closet doors in order to accommodate the "school room" that Janey created in her closet.  It's from that window that the girls have continuously climbed--out onto the blue water barrels and into the backyard-- to escape from quiet time.  It's in there that Danin scratched letters and artwork onto her dresser and peeled paint from the trim on the wall by her bed (that little devil!), and it's in there that many a piece of candy was smashed into the carpet.    It's also been in that room that Janey and Danin have spent countess hours (supposed to be spent sleeping) playing and laughing and making humongous messes.    I can hear them in there right now (at 10:37 P.M.) as I type.











 

In Brian's and my room--well, two babies have been made in that room, for starters.  Ahem.  There have been countless forts made under my our bed and with all of my our pillows.  (Brian gets after me about that.)  It is from our closet door that Brian hung the pull-up bar on which the kids love to swing and on which I have practiced to finally be able to do real pull-ups.  It is our bedroom wall into which Brian punched a hole on a hectic, stressful Sunday morning several years back.  It was on our bedroom floor that my kids and I knelt when we learned that one of my siblings was in need of our immediate and sincere prayers.  (And it was in there by our bed that Brian prayed

for inspiration with regard to our lack of Christmas spirit, remember? ) It is from our bedroom
window that we have most often watched the bears and other animals (including deer, coyote, turkeys, rabbits, birds and bobcat) enjoy our backyard.  It is in our tub that Brian (primarily) has soaked after so many long, dirty races, and in which our kids and their friends have played after having gotten dirty outside.  (The slanted side of the tub has often become a water-slide.)  It is on our bathroom floor that every finger and toenail has been painted.

Our kids have enjoyed so many pot lucks and Easter egg hunts in our backyard.

And it has been in this home that we have had such wonderful, wonderful neighbors.  Man, the Holmeses.....   I cannot begin to tell you...


We have loved living here.  Every night I thank Heavenly Father for having had such a safe and comfortable place to live.  To me, our house is beautiful and I have felt grateful for every day that we have lived in it.