J is for the way...

J has not been kind to me. 

If I believed in curses, I'd think some sort of J curse was placed on me when I was but a wee lass... 

It started with a step dad named Jerry, when I was a toddler, who liked to get me drunk and play with my mom like she was a punching bag. True story- we actually fled for our lives and hid out in Sin City, which is where my very earliest flashes of memories are. 

As I grew up, I had best friends and boy friends. Normal middle school to high school tragic romances and heartbreaks. Reflectively though, it's the one's owned by the letter J that stand out the most. 

John... the relationship that ended so beyond tragically that still, to this day, I feel sick at my stomach when I think about it. Everyone in his family was affected, manipulated and hurt by what happened and not long after that- his father died. 

Jim... that boy from a far, whom I spent the summers in "love" with, but he didn't even know I existed. Then, the summer of my junior year (i was just sixteen) he sat down with me, poured out his heart (about life stuff) and suddenly acted like I was his best friend ever. As the leaves turned he would mail me letters doing just that. And then he stopped, and I'm not sure whatever happened. Broke my summer crush heart at any rate...

James... first true love- of the soul mate variety... far deeper relationship than any sixteen year old should have. Ended at a bus station, sort of. I carried along a lot of baggage from this one, for far too long. He is a giant Jerk now, which fits- what with the J and all... 

Justin... If I were to collect my love stories, print and bind them, this one would be the best. Though nothing horribly devastating happened during our relationship- it was intensely played out and the timing was tragically wrong for us. Then, things went really bad for him and now, now I have no idea. 

Jared...  Jared and I didn't date, but that did not change the intensity of our friendship at all. He was that dark and brooding boy, intense and artistic. He was that guy who could look into the core of me and pull out truths I wanted no one to know. I adored him. Spending time with him, (which happened daily) left me both amazingly inspired and incredibly drained. He died tragically, far too young. 

Jaycaun/John... Though i doubt either one were even his real name, he did an amazing job pretending they were. He was a scam artists/pathological liar, to his core, but the way I felt about him was real. He hurt my heart over and over again, for far too long. Then finally, one day, I wised up... 

When our sweet little Genny came to us, we made the decision to keep her birth name (sort of), only spell it a little different. Family criticized us horribly for not taking the opportunity to also change her G to a J. 

No way... by then, I knew better. J's and I just don't play nice together... 

Cue the young adulthood and romantic life of my oldest daughter Amanda. 

She's dated quite a few screwed up douchebags... 

Guess what letter their names started with.

Yep. 

So she goes on a date with this guy last week and giddily she tells me about it. After she leaves for work, Genny (who had been completely listening to everything, as she always does) says to me "All I have to say is, at least his name doesn't start with a J!" 

*grin* 

She picked up on that one, due to her sister's troubles, all on her own. She knows nothing of my own. Hopefully this is enough to spare her from the curse of the J. True to herself, while rollerblading yesterday she met a new neighbor kid named Jake. After a warm introduction she said "i have to go in now. bye!" and rushed in the house...

Poor thing... or not. ha ha... 

*disclaimer... yes, my mom's name was Julie. And yes, I've had friends among the Jen and Jess variety, as life has gone on...

Adventures in parenting...

Before we went on vacation, I asked Genny to go through her clothes and try on the things she hadn't worn in awhile. On our way to California we would be visiting friends who have a daughter a size or two below Gen. It only made sense to take her whatever clothes we could pass along while there. 

After an hour or so, in her room she emerged with a few t-shirts, some shorts and maybe a nightgown. (I forget) The point is, there wasn't more than a normal Target bag, half full of clothes. Taking her word for it, I went on packing us for our trip. We passed the clothing along, our our stop there, and everyone was happy. 

After we came home I had Genny go through all of her clothes to make room for her school uniform pieces and so I had an idea of what I needed to start looking for. This time I wanted to see them. On her. 

Would you believe that ninety percent of her clothes did not fit her? 

Shocking, really, the invisible growth spurt that California sunshine must have caused was amazing. A closet full of dresses, and only 2 remained. The other fourteen were unable to be zipped up at all, or showed her knickers without her bending over. Every single last pair of her jeans were unable to be zipped up... 

hmmm... 

I divided them so that my niece could get some of the pieces she loves and boxed up the rest for our friend's daughter who is now 8 hours away. 

Gosh, isn't parenting fun???? :) 

A little post vacay nostalgia... Sort of...

I finally feel like recovery from California, (and the EVIL stomach virus of the vacation) is a possibility... I thought I'd take the opportunity to show you some souvenirs that I brought home. 

 gifts for the girls, of course...

 For the husband's yummy saturday morning pancakes...

 Stocked up! yum! 

 Amanda's favorite...

 For me. I'm selfish... 

 our little luxury of the trip... 

 the BEST cocoa, in my opinion. 

 DOUBLE YUM!!!

 hello, necessity... 

 the BEST Soy Sauce on the market...

 *swoon*

 Chw's... 

 Eat your heart out, chips ahoy! 

 Gen...

 Nana...

 DIVINE snackability...

 I LOVE these silly fig bars... 

 hard to read, from the dumb flash, but these are Gorgonzola crackers, and let me just say: OH MY GOSH, these are FANTASTC! Amazing with cheese, amazing with hummus... just GOOD yumminess... 

 Pasta, gnocchi and more pasta... 

 i am selfish here and won't share. this is my FAVORITE Salad dressing ever- turned on to it by a good, kind and generous friend!

 Chw's... 

 Our hard working freezer bag which, in a cooler full of ice, did it's job AWESOMELY Well for those 7 hours! 

 BEST Biryani I've ever had! 

 YUM!!! 

Even yummier... 

So bored yet? I'm sorry... i just love (and miss) Trader Joe's so much. Everything you saw here, we bought multiple amounts of... We had a ridiculous amount of food, which filled up the back of my SUV and we only spent $178. It's ridiculous... The things we got would last us 4-6 months... 

I am hoping to go back to TJ's early in the fall to stock up on soups and a few more things. (LOVE their soups!) 

Are you a TJ's shopper??? What are your favorite Trader Joe's things? 

Be Ninety...

I wanted to wait to post about this until I was sure that I could handle it. 

See, I'm kinda weak... 

And I know that several of my regular readers aren't really the type to read about such a challenge- but then I realized it's my blog and so I'm going to blog about it... 

In June I signed up for the B90 challenge. For those of you aren't familiar, it is simply a program where you commit to reading the Bible in it's entirety over the course of 90 days. 

Honestly, I've never been a big fan of reading the Bible. There are certain verses and parts of that I've loved- but the majority of it bored me to tears. Considering I am a Christian, this would possibly be my least attractive Believer quality. When I signed up, I questioned my ability to make it through. 

When July 11th rolled around and it was time to start the challenge- my life suddenly felt like the world was sort of falling apart. 

Destined for failure... 

But then, I haven't. 

In fact I'm loving it. I am learning. I am confused. I am succeeding. 

So yeah, that's my cool thing for the day. 

What's yours? 

Whipped...

While summer is this gloriously wonderful and sunshine filled (usually, anyway) time of laughter and happiness- every year I am reminded of how much summer kind of gets on my nerves a little.

And I mean, just a little... 

My routine is destroyed. It's sad... 

The very idea of sticking to a meal plan feels about as feasible as swimming to Hawaii for a picnic. 

The laundry seems to pile up doubly fast, and the structured time to do it seems to have gone on vacation. 

And then, then there is the long Summer "To Do list" which seems impossible to complete.

As it is, school starts in less than a month...

Less than a month! 

For this "used to be" homeschooling mom, transitioning into a very early school morning schedule- I am already feeling that familiar chest constricting feeling of anxiety attacking me. 

So, even though I'm feeling completely exhausted and whipped by the crazy (but glorious) chaos of summer, I'm making a move to be pro-active. 

I am baby stepping my way to becoming that wife and mother who is up every day, before anyone else. {For those of you who already live this life- bless me, for those of you laughing hysterically- you'll see!} This week I've started waking up at 5:30, every morning. My hope is to establish a routine for myself so that by the first day of next month, I'll be mentally alert enough to start waking Gen, at the time she'll need to be up to ready herself for school, and having home cooked breakfasts every morning. 

Well, it's a lovely goal anyway... (she says, as she currently wakes around 9 and still only offers bagels or muffins with fruit for the morning meal... *sigh*)

I am optimistic that by this time next month I will be the morning person whom I have spent 35 years hoping I would be, and that, ala' June Cleaver- my family will be happy, well adjusted, well fed and beautiful model citizens inspiring the world for generations to come. (but really over all, I'm being pretty realistic, don't you think?) 

Any words of wisdom or advice? (PLEASE don't say coffee... I've NEVER been a regular daily coffee drinker, but I am already having a mental romance with this guy, while also day dreaming of the possibilities of having this man in my life.) 

And it was all yellow too...

Having not seen my beautiful eleven year old niece in what felt like many months due to joint custody arrangements (between her parents) and an unmeshing of timing/schedules, she absolutely threw me the other day when she shouted out, "Next time you buy me a birthday present please make sure it's nothing pale yellow! I cannot stand pale yellow." With the conclusion of her ear piercing decibel confession she attached a dramatically appropriate shudder followed by an ever so dainty eye roll... 

huh, I'm guessing she's not a fan of yellow then. 

oh, but I am. 

Just last night I sat on my sofa as fading day light filtered in through my kitchen window, painting everything in antiqued golden hues. Turning my head just a tad, to the left, I had the same rays of shine illuminating the neighbors raw wood fence and trees. Beautifully green leaves made love with shards of yellow as the wind turned them about ever so gently. 

ah, yellow... 

At my feet lay my golden dog, so fluffy and warm. Just released from the dog hospital, her human family still flooded with relief to the very edges of our skin tips. As days pass, with each sneeze and patch of dry skin- we fear the worst for her as she grows ever older, weaker, more frail. As I'm dreaming amidst the sky's falling gold, the strong and amazing man I married comes into the room- kissing me softly as he sits. 

"hello, yellow dog." He says to her, tousling her furry head. 

yellow dog... 

It is in this moment that I see it, just a glimpse really. My own hands wrapped in onion skin, my hair white and thin. Breaths are shallow, as I lay in a bed somewhere. Out the one window my unguided daydream grants me, I see golden floods of daytime and feel complete. I think of them then, my husband whose lip smells oh so so sweet. I remember his kisses, his warm hands and the way in which golden flecked blue eyes loved me. 

gold. 

I'd remember then, his best friend. They way he called her yellow dog, and how she was prepared to clumsily follow him to the ends of his world if she had to. From the longing in my daydream heart, I sense he is with her then and no longer with me... 

Then I am back to the present of her at my feet and he by my side. 

It is these moments I hold tight and place in my soul's mason jar. 

I tuck them in, like fireflies whose yellow light kisses make summer a million times more precious than it is.

yellow. 

acidic lemons that manage to make the best cleaners, the freshest fragrances, the best drink accents and the most delicious cakes all while never ceasing to be poetically beautiful... 

antique book pages bursting at their bindings with both history and hope. 

golden wedding bands symbolizing more, in their petite circles than any other piece of jewelry dares. 

butter... by itself, too rich and creamy, but everything it touches becomes that much better. 

tiny wild flowers... big flowers... roses... sunflowers, always facing heaven. 

and of course there's this... 

This post was inspired by a writing prompt over at mama kat's writer's workshop...

Deep & Wide...

Wow. 

So yesterday's post was a little deep, eh? 

I can't even tell you how completely grateful I am for the sweet comments and words. So many beautiful words... So many beautiful readers. 

Many times, per week, I am getting emails from several regular readers telling me their own stories or perceptions of my words and then apologizing because they can not comment on my blog. 

What the heck?!?!?!? 

I am a complete computer moron and have no idea how to rectify this. 

Any wisdom? 

I thought I'd take a moment to thank each and everyone one of you- (yes, even YOU, the silent ones) for your thoughts and prayers over the past week and a half. My goodness, we come home from San Francisco and it felt like the entire world was falling apart. We're told we're unexpectedly (and quickly) losing our house... Our sweet Golden Retriever Makaila is super sick... My sister has been diagnosed with another brain tumor... I feel like I am missing something else. I don't know, maybe I'm not. It was a lot. 

I am here to tell you that... 

- we are NOT losing our house. (we learned so last night.)

- Makaila has a raging UTI and they have her on antibiotics, which she unfortunately keeps vomiting up. 

- No word on my sister, as of yet, but with the knowledge that we're staying put- it's a lot less overwhelming to think about how much she's going to need me. 

Life gets super stressful and heavy sometimes, but there truly is love all around us. It flows deeper than our sorrows and much wider than our eyes and arms can grasp. 

I, for one, am really grateful for this. 

D & D...

When I first met my husband, he talked a lot about his parents. How much he loved his dad and respected his mom. He talked of his two little brothers, who were but wee little guys. Being the group-home-grown girl who had no real family to speak of, I found this perfect family to be romantically dreamy... 

In time I learned that his parents, weren't actually his parents at all. Rather, they were a family who took him in, when he was in high school, because his own parents had kicked him out. His family, rather his real family, was one filled to the brim with alcoholism, manipulation and graphically violent abuse. At that time, Chw wanted nothing to do with his real family at all. 

My first meeting of the "foster" (if you will) parents was pretty uneventful. Chw and I were still just friends. We went out to their house to pick up some mail, etc. Low key, normal, every day stuff. Because we were just friends, I had no odd expectations or pressures. I found myself surprised that he called them by their first names, (For blog purposes, we'll call them D and D) though I don't know why. One thing I can tell you, it was the way Chw smiled in D and D's presence, that September afternoon which first stirred my heart for him. Something about it was so raw and honest and it reached out and grabbed me, in that brief instant. 

Sometime after that, D and D didn't like choices that Chw had made. Like all good parents should, (insert sarcastic cough here) they completely cut him out of their life. My, at the time, boyfriend was lost. Truly, it was like his life compass and sun had both just vanished. Out of complete desperation he turned to his real family for help, which truthfully broke his spirit right in half. It was horrible to witness, but still traumatic to look back and remember. 

About a year after we were married, Chw looked at his life one afternoon and felt a twinge of pride. Not the evil kind, mind you, but pride for how far he'd come. Defying expectations, he'd managed a successful job. He was happily married with a glowingly pregnant wife and had a lovely home. Daring to feel good about himself, on a whim he called D and D- hoping to make amends. 

Heaping his own shoulders with the entirety of blame, he begged forgiveness and they forgave. Soon they were coming over, with their two year older boys in tow. A happy family was restitching itself together and one couldn't help but see God in the fine details of it all. 

A couple of years passed and then, once again, a decision (complete trivial in detail, as i don't even remember what it was this time around) was made and D and D turned their back on my husband. I saw his brokenness through new eyes this time and so I worked hard, right beside him, to bring them around. Their judgmental absence was less this time and soon things were restored. By the time my husband and I celebrated our fifth anniversary, D and D were very much a part of our lives. We had family dinners, and outings. They couldn't wait to be grandparents (whenever that worked out for us- which it hadn't yet.). We prayed with them and talked out problems. Both Chw and I trusted them whole-heartedly with everything. We had all worked hard to get to that place, but we'd done it. They were young. We were super young. There wasn't really an instruction book on these unorthodox situations... 

And then, things changed... 

Suddenly, my husband was having an affair, and D and D hated me. Behind my back they were urging him to leave me and not look back. It was all beyond confusing and I couldn't understand because, as much as anyone had ever been- they were my family too. 

After our divorce, Chw stayed close with D and D. Even though he moved to Michigan, they remained his family- his parents. And then, in 2001 when he finally shared with them that we'd decided to reconcile our marriage- they made him choose: them or me. 

Broken hearted, he obviously chose me. 

And he didn't look back. 

At least not for a long, long time... 

One day he admitted to me that the time during the affair and our divorce was a really dark time for him. He admitted lying to them, about me, so that they would be his and side with him. He just wanted to have a family, how could I blame him? I had been there... And it was his actions which hurt us all. But the damage had wounded, and the wounds had scarred... It had been 10 years and there was no going back. Still, he ached for his family some. He knew it would never be as it should be, but he wanted to try. He wrote them a letter, explaining what he had done. He prayerfully, tearfully, poured out his heart- stamped it and mailed it. 

He heard nothing back. 

Eventually, about a year ago, word began to spread to him that the male D had died. Then the rumor mill changed to no, he hadn't died, but he was dying. Then, one day, the rumor mill came to him via a FB message: that D and D were looking for him. 

His heart, and hopes soared... 

We'll ignore, for a moment, that he'd left them a voice mail EVERY Father's day and Mother's day, with his number. We'll also ignore, the letter with the return address, phone number AND email address all included. We'll ignore everything and call them. 

Which he did, and left another in a long string of voicemails which they would never return. 

Then, when Chw could no longer push them from his mind, he stopped by the store on his way home from work and ran into female D. Just like that. After four years of us being back in Idaho- poof- there she was, at a market just a mile from our house.

As it turns out, the male D is sick. Very sick... And he wants to see my husband. 

and the Female D acts, towards my husband on the phone, as though they are simply old friends who fell out of touch. 

And my husband asks to meet with her, and talk. And she refuses, adding bittersweetly that I am to be nowhere near their family, ever. And I don't care because I think she is a vile, conditional and manipulative woman- but my husband cringes from the further pain of what's been done. 

And finally, months after first phoning them, today he is there. Today he visits D and D. Today he says hello first, and begins that long goodbye that no one is ever ready for. Painfully he faces everything he's lost: both what has been snatched from him and what he threw away. 

As for me, today I'm sickly reminded of how much the things they have said and done towards the end of our marriage- and since then- have hurt me. I'm reminded of how conivingly they architected the end of our marriage and how well they (mostly she) have always been able to pull my husbands strings. 

And then, shards of light fill my memory because I have nothing to worry about. 

Nothing at all. 

I know my husband, I love my husband, I TRUST my husband...

And I know that my husband loves me. 

And he needs this, so I pray for him. I pray it is beautiful and lovely, and nurturing, and healing. 

I do forgive them. I know that they made decisions based on lies. But they (mostly she) also made mistakes,
(many) of their own doing. No one's perfect. So I forgive them. I am deeply sad that he is ill. I love him. I always have. He is a good, good man. I see SO MUCH of him in my husband. I am sad that my kids don't know him. I am sad that his own sons grew up and became men and my husband simply missed it. I am sad because it all seems like such a tragic waste, and such a seeping mass of vile pride and arrogance.

 But I forgive them...

And sometimes i reforgive, and reforgive... 

Distant Shores...

And a little housekeeping... 

First off, I did not get very far in June/July's book. While I have really valid/good excuses, I can't tell you how horrible I feel about it. First Genny broke her hand and we were constantly running to x-rays and surgical consults and follow ups (in a two week span of time we were in ER XRAY office over 12 times), adding that to trying to get ahead on work stuff so that we could have a lovely vacation. While I was sure I'd get time to read on vacation, the truth was Genny and I ended up getting incredibly sick so reading was out of the question. The day after we returned home we found out two major things... First, there was a strong possibility we'd be moving and VERY soon- which freaked me out quite honestly. (we still don't know anything) and the second was that my little sister's brain tumor has returned and there is a MAJORLY bumpy road ahead. We've only been home a week and I've been there to help her out and then we had her kids for the weekend. Just a lot of emotional turmoil and stress for everyone. 

But really, it also boiled down to the book itself. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't get into it. Around this time the feedback came pouring in from some of you who chose to read it and NO ONE liked it. In fact, if the opposite was possible, that's how everyone seemed to feel. If you'd like to comment about the book though, this would be a great post to do it in... I still have it and may pick it back up again simply because i don't like leaving things unfinished... 

So, without further apology (though i truly am sorry for the selection AND not finishing it myself...) 

Our July/August book is Distant Shores by Kristin Hannah... 

The good news is, the reviews aren't scathing. And honestly, this book came highly recommended so here's hoping! 

Happy reading... 

New to the club, or need a reminder? 

Here's how it works: 

- On the 3rd Monday of each summer month, {May, June, July, August} I will post that month's summer title. 

- On the Friday BEFORE "announcement Monday" I will put a post up about the book, and we can discuss. {Of course, last summer many discussion happened, in many formats, between those dates- and that is absolutely fine.} 

That's it... One book per month (easy commitment) with the benefit of connecting with other's who are also reading it... Couldn't ask for a better summer goal! 

So, what are you waiting for? Grab your favorite book mark, convince your sister or best friend to join us and head to your local library or book store and start reading today... {And then come back on August 19th...}

WANTED: a home, please...

We didn't come home to a welcome home banner or a beautiful balloon bouquet. Nope. Instead, we came home to our property management company announcing that our rental's owner is short selling out from under us. Just dandy, isn't it? With that bombshell of an announcement we are left unknowing if we still have a home, or for how long... 

Fan-flipping-tastic... 

I wanted to sit down and cry to them about how hard change is for my daughter. I wanted to paint pictures with great detail and imagery about how hard it's going to be. I wanted to beg someone who mattered to please not sell, or to sell to someone who will continue to rent to us. (which is a possibility) 

Instead though, when my husband asked one simple question: how do we know what we are supposed to do if we have no idea how long we have? The property manager answered with: it isn't just you, there are 8 other homes that are also short selling. Really? REALLY??? While we feel bad for the other families/people, the reality is it is our family we are concerned with... 

so much for a stressless rest of summer... 

Gosh, doesn't it feel like we were just in a house mess? pfft... 

What I've learned... {The No. Cal. Edition...}

I survived vacation... 

When people think of vacation, typically they envision sleeping in, lazy days and similar luxuries... Pretty much, they aren't vacationing with me. I am a planner, by default. I love planning memorable things to do and making them (or most of them, anyhow) somehow magically become a reality on minimal budgets and shoestring dollar amounts. I usually, (obviously) survive, but I end up exhausted. 

This trip to California was no exception. 

Even so, along the way I learned some pretty big things that I wanted to share...

1.) No Cal drivers are awesome. Seriously. California, in it's entirety, gets a bad wrap. We saw the most courteous and respectful drivers in San Jose, San Francisco and the entire area in between. It never ceased to amaze us. 

2.) No Cal gas prices are awesome. Again, something that surprised us... 

3.) Sometimes the best hotels, and staff members, are found in the least likely of places... 

4.) I am learning that I am NOT (by any shape of the imagination) a fan of wild animals in captivity. 

5.) I think that being out in the sea watching blue and humpback whales feed, swim and splash is one of the most amazing things I've ever been witness to. 

6.) I am not a sea person. I get sick. Super sick. Sicker than I've maybe ever been. Days later and I'm still not 100%. 

7.) Booking a casino hotel because the "price is right" is a stupid thing to do. A mistake I'm not likely to make again. 

8.) Everywhere but Idaho has way too many Trader Joe's and the company needs to spread out a little. 

9.) The Golden Gate Bridge really is more beautiful when it's foggy. 

10.) Sometimes a cab ride, in perfect timing, is the brightest spot in a bleak moment. 

11.) It's fun to dream of fancy houses, without having to go home to clean them. (or pay for them.) 

12.) A cemetery is nothing to be scared of, at night. When fireworks are overhead it's even better. 

13.) Flat beaches are way better than insanely hilly ones. 

14.) If not turned off, satellite activated GPS on a smart phone will drain a battery instantly. 

15.) Facebook has really humble headquarters. 

16.) Planning ahead is vital to the success of a vacation. 

17.) Being flexible with those plans is even more important. 

18.) Eating out at amazing places we don't have at home, is awesome.

19.) And then, it suddenly isn't... 

20.) There really is no place like home. 

And you thought I forgot you...

Traveling along a 55 mile per hour highway, in the passenger seat of our SUV it occurred to me that- though I had purposefully and thoughtfully accomplished and checked off things on an enormous pre-vacation to do list- I realized I had forgotten to write a post. 

I am not at home... 

While our dogs are hanging out and chilling at home with other folks of the house- Chw, Gen and I have embarked on a journey of potentially epic proportions... First stop, on the agenda, is that we are hanging out over here for the long, holiday weekend. It's exactly where we want to be! Happiness abounds, (and not only because we were in the car forever, or because i like to whine...) 

After the holiday weekend we will then travel down the coast to the San Francisco area  for half pleasure and half work research for a current writing project I have. I am excited. It's Gen's first time Cali and she's beside herself with anticipation. :) 

If anything strikes my fancy, I may whip out a post while we are in the hotel but more than likely you won't hear a peep from me until after we're home... Be on the lookout for Gen randomness, Excitement and of course- photos!