Tricks and Thanks.

Waverly is very communicative. 

Go Cats! Yay!

She loves to tell Fenway to "go, go, go" when Fen gets too close while she is eating. I tried to teach her that a dog says, "ruff ruff", but my mom taught her "woof woof" and well, here's what we get when we ask, "Waverly, what does a dog say?"...

I apologize that the videos are sideways. I can't figure out how to turn them. :/

On a different note... Obviously, we just celebrated Thanksgiving and so many people posted what they're thankful for. I didn't. Actually, I'm typically opposed to posting that kind of thing. I see it kind of like Valentine's Day: I don't need one day out of the year to feel loved or thankful; that should be an all-the-time kind of thing. 

I was blog surfing the day after Thanksgiving and read this post: THANKSGIVING and JOY. Wow. That's all I had to say after reading this. The woman who wrote this has been through a lot this year. If you read previous posts, you'll learn her story. But I had to ask myself, "Would I feel this way if I had been in her shoes?" I know she's not healing on her own; she is allowing the strength and grace of the Lord to flow through her life. She ends this post by saying, "I am so thankful for the things in my life. But I have learned a valuable lesson this year. No matter what the circumstances, it is so important to rejoice." Wow. 

1 Thessalonians 5:16-18 "Rejoice always, pray continually, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is God's will for you in Christ Jesus."

This is how we are to give thanks.

In a Funk.

It's late. Like 11:00 pm. That's late for a mom of an eight-month-old. Chandler, Waverly, and Fenway are all asleep with visions of "Black Friday" all in their heads; except for Fenway who is most likely having visions of sugar plums. I laid in bed for a while tossing and turning, but my mind wouldn't shut off. So I got up to blog in hopes that by focusing my thoughts I'll find some peace enough to sleep. And some accountability to "turn my frown upside down".

Truth be told, the holidays are a bit difficult around our house, especially this year with a baby. While most are able to relax and enjoy a few days (or weeks) with family, our life gets a little more hectic. Let me clarify: Chandler's work life gets a ton more hectic which, in turn, affects Waverly and I. He works 10, 11, sometimes 12 hour days/evenings, so it's just Waverly and I a lot of the time. Don't get me wrong, I love hanging out with the best thing to ever happen to us, but I really miss my best friend and "teammate". Taking care of a child and home by yourself is hard work, despite what those who don't stay at home may think, and my heart goes out to single moms. I eagerly await the end of the holidays just so life can be boring and normal.

On the other hand, as much as I want to, I do not bite the hand that feeds me. In honor of Thanksgiving, I am thankful that my husband has a job that allows me to stay home with Waverly. I am thankful for his boss, who is also a friend, because he took Chandler "back" from his horrible job at Starbucks. And I am thankful that Chandler loves his job... for the most part :)

Dog leg: While we got to spend some good time with my step mom's family and Chandler's family, my heart hurts because I miss my mom and dad's families so much right now. It's actually really strange that I feel this way because I'm used to not seeing either family often since they live out of state, but there's just something about having a child and the holidays that makes me heartsick for my family. And there's something about the comfort of being with extended family who have known you and loved you since the day you were born. Sometimes you just miss them, you know?

Wah waahh, right? Just call me "Debbie Downer". But I do feel a little better. Maybe it's a girl thing or maybe it's just a Kelli thing, but I get in a funk sometimes where I'm sad about everything and Chandler has to hear all of my woes and wait patiently for the storm to pass. This time I just went straight to the Scripture. I know I need to allow myself to be comforted by the Lord and His Word. I shut myself in the office earlier to give myself some time alone, for my sanity and for my spirituality. I just prayed and let Him speak to me through His Word. I came across Psalm 19:14 which says,

"Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in your sight, O Lord, my rock and my redeemer." 

Later, as I lay in bed attempting to fall asleep, I chided myself for not allowing the "meditation of my heart" to be pleasing and acceptable to Him. My heart was not at peace and I was not resting in Him, "my rock". So, I came downstairs to focus, which led me here, and as I sat down, my eyes caught Waverly's first craft ceremoniously stuck to the refrigerator. On it, in honor of Thanksgiving, there is Scripture written that says,

"Give thanks to him and praise his name." (Ps 100:4b)

I guess that's all I really needed to see. 

It's sick.

I've been so emotional the past couple of days! I'm watching a video on YouTube of the Opera Company of Philadelphia singing Handel's "Hallelujah Chorus". It was a flash mob type of thing and the whole company is spread out over three floors. And I'm super emotional about it. It's such a beautiful song and I remember singing it in high school, I remember the whole alto part and all of the words.

I'm going to be that lady that cries about everything.

The Real Housewives

Currently, I have a headache. Enlightening, I know. And I smell a little, but just like it's-been-a-long-day smell, not b.o. or anything in particular.

I'm watching The Real Housewives of Atlanta. (Chandler jokingly calls me The Real Housewife of Lexington. Charming.) The Real Housewives are a little bit of a what-I-watch-when-nothing-else-is-on pleasure and I don't even care for the Atlanta housewives... that's how much is not on t.v. this evening. One of the housewives' mother talked about feeling like she wasted twenty years of her life. I thought, "How sad to look back on your life and feel like it was wasted." I decided in that moment that I fear looking back on my life and having regrets or feeling like it was wasted.

Thus far, my life has been awesome. I've been blessed with family, I've traveled all over the US, I've completed my undergraduate degree, I met the love of my life, had a beautiful wedding, and now have the greatest, most wonderful daughter in the entire world. 

Our future looks kind of like this: In a couple of years, we will be moving overseas as missionaries in obedience to God's will for our lives. We will live in Africa. That is all I know. My life will not be wasted.

Look at the Time Stamp.

See what time it is? It's 11:00 on a Saturday night. Guess what I just did? Mopped.
Yeah, I mopped... but only the front foyer.

I hate mopping.

But here's the thing: I couldn't take it anymore. I couldn't stand the thought of our hallway carpet turning a nice shade of funk because of the dirt dragged in from the foyer. So, I grabbed the dreaded mop and bucket and started cleaning.

Then, I couldn't stand the nagging thought that a mop only soaks up part of the gross-ness and the rest is just pushed around the floor, possibly into the carpet edges, so I grabbed an old rag and dried the floor Starbucks-style. That is, I threw a couple of dry rags on the floor, stood one foot on each, and skated across the floor to dry it. I didn't say it was standard Starbucks procedure, in fact, this style of drying is frowned upon because it wastes valuable cleaning cloths. Whatever, it's super helpful.

I hope to get a Swiffer soon. I'm saving coupons, looking for the big sale.

So maybe I'm a little obsessive. I will totally own up to being a little obsessive. I used to be more-so except that my husband is more tightly strung than I, so I've learned to relax. Now I'm just obsessive about some things. For example, I noticed the color changing carpet earlier this week. I thought it was just the light; you know, one light bulb goes out and casts a funny shadow, but after passing the carpet over and over... and over and over (I mean, anyone that comes in our house walks on this patch of carpet), I realized it was genuinely dirty. Then, I realized that I never mop that front foyer. I hate mopping. So, I start obsessing, thinking about how dirty the carpet looks and how I desperately need to mop the floor, definitely more often than once every six months. I freak out a little because we can't afford to have the carpet professionally cleaned, much less replaced. It's certainly not in the budget to buy a hallway carpet... not yet, but it's been pushed up the priority list of things to buy, right next to picture frames for our large wedding photo (3 years ago, mind you) and Waverly's professional photos and a Swiffer mop. Then, of course, all of this falls behind the 101 Christmas gifts we must buy for family... yep, just family. I cut out buying for friends a long time ago. Sorry. We have 10 immediate family members to buy for, not including Waverly, Chandler, and myself. Our siblings aren't even married yet. Tell me about it.

I digress.

For a week, I have mini panic attacks over this carpet. Then, finally, at 10:30 on Saturday night, I just can't take it anymore. And when I reach that point, the task must be completed immediately. So I mopped and I hated every minute of it, but my heart is a few steps farther from a heart attack because I did it.

Come on, Swiffer. Big sale. Big sale.

Uninspired.

I have been totally uninspired lately when it comes to blogging. In fact, I've been more inspired in other ways. I'm currently making stockings for the fam (Chandler, Waverly, and I). I hope to start making clothes for Waverly. I need my own sewing machine first.

Currently, I am obsessed with three things: etsy.com, fabric, and being inspired.

This post is {uninspiring}.

Look at my cute baby...

Happy HalloweeEEeeEen!

This baby LOVES pumpkins. If it is orange and round, it's a "keh". You think I'm kidding?

I waited as long as possible to carve her pumpkin. Every time it caught her eye, her whole face would light up, she'd whisper, "keh" and just stare at it until one of us got it for her. A few days before Halloween, Daddy carved that pumpkin!

Pumpkin guts.

It's fine, pumpkin is a vegetable.

The final, creepy product!

On Halloween, we visited Daddy, aka Harry Potter, at work and spent some time with Nana and Grandad (my dad and stepmom). We did a little trick 'or treating, as much as an 8 month old can do... It was more like walking around and showing her off.

My sweet, baby giraffe! 

(There's a pink bow on the giraffe... I couldn't handle mistaken gender)