mission statement

I've been wanting to create a personal mission statement for quite some time, and last night I found a really great tool that finally helped me do just that. While I'm not sure I want to share my mission statement just yet, I'm really, really excited about it! I am hoping that referring back to it reminds me of the things I want to accomplish and keeps me on track to do so.

That's the point, right?

Anyway, if you, too, have been looking to do something like this for yourself...look no further! :)

unhappy holidays

I really struggled with the holidays this year.

I spent so much time worrying about the buying!making!preparing!giving!
wrapping!decorating! ...that I just...well, I just burned out.

Completely.

For whatever reason, I decided 2012 should be the year I pitch a 'handmade Christmas' to my loved ones. You know, the year when I moved twice, bought a house, got a puppy, went insane, stressed over family health problems, sued a crappy landlady, and a bunch of other issues I didn't bother/want to blog about.

I love crafting. Absolutely, truly love it. And despite my previous post, I really do enjoy crafting for others. So, I totally thought the handmade Christmas thing was going to go perfect. I just didn't count on a few outside factors, such as...burned chocolate, a destroyer dog, sizing issues, random breakage, and then just...running out of time.

By the time this week...and my parents...and the holiday...arrived, I was so over Christmas. I was exhausted. All I could focus on was the nap I would get when it was finally over. My mom and I talked about it while she was here, and she felt exactly the same. We also both agreed on something else.

Next year needs to be different. It has to be, and we, ourselves, have to make it so.

Next year needs to be different. The whole year. Not just Christmas.

So, how am I going to make that happen?

{wordless} giving

Our daughter has the most caring, most thoughtful, most giving heart. In my thirty years, I've only come across a handful of people I'd honestly say that about, and she is not included because I am biased. Honestly, because she is mine, the bar has been held that much higher for her to be there.

She cries because she so happy that she can't handle the emotion, she feels pain for her friends (which often makes her cry, too), and she's the first one to offer up something of her own if she knows someone else will enjoy it.

The latter is the case with this photograph. It's of an owl sticker she found among her many Christmas gifts, and something she held in her hand as she came down the stairs just a few minutes ago  singsonging, "Mooooommm, I have a present for you. I know it's something you'll like..."

She never ceases to amaze me. I cannot, for the life of me, picture my seven-year-old self giving anyone anything. Not a sticker, not a toy...nothing. I liked my things, and I liked them to remain mine. Nor did I --or,  rarely do I now, even-- ever show the depth of emotion that this little girl does.

She is amazing and wonderful, and I have so very much to learn from her.

Merry Christmas!!

May the greatest gift you receive be the memories you make with loved ones.

12/12/12

Everyone has been making a big deal about today's date; about how they've never seen it before and will never see it again. At first I was the same way, thinking I'd never see another 12/12/12 unless I lived to be 130, but then I realized something.

Yes, this is a date I've never seen before and am quite sure I'll never see again (living to 130 is a bit more than wishful thinking). But you know what? Today is a day I'll never see again. Who cares what order the numbers fall into? Every day is a gift, because the next is not for certain.

“It's being here now that's important. There's no past and there's no future. 

Time is a very misleading thing. All there is ever, is the now. 

We can gain experience from the past, but we can't relive it; 

and we can hope for the future, but we don't know if there is one.” 

--George Harrison

Live for today. The only thing special about a date (day) is how you live it. Numbers are just...numbers.

{wordless} lights

It's a lot more fun to decorate your house for Christmas when it actually is yours. :)

outed.

November was a month of not much blogging. I wanted to blame it on being busy, or the guilt of having too many other things to do that I didn't end up doing anyway, but that wasn't it.

The truth is, I was outed as a blogger on Facebook. A friend** from my hometown who had absolutely no idea how hard I struggle with the idea of "putting things out there", so to speak, mentioned me and the fact that I blog in her own desire to participate in '30 Days of Giving Thanks'. She was trying to do a good thing by giving me credit, and I truly, completely appreciated that.

But, suddenly, my real life and internet life collided and I was very, very uncomfortable with that. I was back living again in that small town of 700 people and everyone knew my every move.

I was back in the fishbowl.

Granted, she didn't even link me, and most people who saw her post probably couldn't find my blog if they tried. There isn't a lot of searchable material on it that links me to me. Still, they now knew it existed, and that was enough. Too much.

Every time I tried to update here, I was blocked. The words just would not come. In my head, every word would be judged. Watched. Picked apart and criticized. I would again be the fodder for gossip that I had escaped upon moving away.

Today it finally occurred to me that I really don't care what those people think. I have --and lead-- a good life. I have nothing to be ashamed about. I don't talk about things here that I wouldn't tell someone in person. People are always going to be critical -- that I can't escape. But, I don't have to let them bring me down directly or indirectly.

And, I'm not going to, either. Not any longer.



**I know you are probably going to read this, and will know who you are. I'm not mad at you at all! Never was! Please don't feel badly. I just had to get over my own issues about blogging. No worries :)

{wordless} insanity

The layover for the trip home on Sunday was in Newark (NJ). Every flight in Terminal A was delayed at least 1.5 hours, which made for a lot of disgruntled travelers --me, included-- and not many extra seats.

Apparently, this happens often there? I'll be skipping Newark in my future travels for sure. Ugh.