Happy Weddennessday, yo.
I'm loving the colored jean trend. In fact, I plan to stop by Target this week because they have some Mossimo colored skinnies for less than $20 that I must check out. Assuming they fit nicely, the problem will become - which color to buy? Blue, red? So nice of Target to provide us with an inexpensive way to have some fashion fun.
I have Pinned some looks and chatted up blogger NatTheFatRat plenty of times here - but I recently learned that she does a family-style feature blog on Babble as well. In this feature, she talks about how to get very expensive looks for less. I'm ALL about that business. Check it out here! (She is also incredibly kind and I feel kind of special because she emailed me last week in response to my query about her elbow-patch sweater from Forever21. So nice!)
Yesterday, I rose above. We were about ten minutes out from supper when I became overwhelmed by something that's been chewing at me for days. The Holy Spirit directed me and I finally listened. It had been 13 days since the kids last spoke to Shoes. He called on Trevor's birthday and then it was radio silence for 13 days. During those 13 days, we reminded the boys that they should call him. We suggested and we asked. But it is delicate, our situation. I won't force them to do something they are not comfortable doing. I will, however, encourage them to BE comfortable calling him often. There is a difference. When something great happens to them we say, 'You should call and tell your dad! He would love to know that!' If they don't want to, then we don't force them. But 13 days? That's a little much for this mama. Especially in combination with the cancelled Christmas visit. It's not my style to call Shoes and scold him for not calling his children (it was my style years ago, but no longer). It's his bed; he's going to be the one to lie in it years from now. I can only be accountable for me. Unfortunately for my comfort level, Me was being chewed by this 13 days thing. I had the feeling I needed to be the bigger person. Bryon and I talked about it. Each day that passed was marked by one of us saying, "It's been 7 days now... they haven't talked to their dad in 9 days... he hasn't called in 11 days," and so on. Ultimately I decided that I still need to hand-hold this situation of ours for a while longer, when Shoes doesn't call and when the kids don't think of it hard enough or listen to us nag at them enough to pick up the phone. So, I dialed. Right there while we were cooking honey mustard, soy, and curry pork chops, I dialed and handed Trevor the phone. All 3 took a turn talking to him. I doubt he knew that I was the one that dialed the phone - Lord no, I'm the devil who keeps his kids from him. It was rising above the feeling of anger that Shoes didn't call his kids for 13 days. It's rising above knowing that Shoes is responsible for making sure the kids continue to have a warm relationship with him. That is not a child's responsibility, and it's also not mine. It was the right thing to do. All credit to the JC.
I was in Hobby Lobby the other day and noticed one of my favorite candies from childhood sitting there in a bag. They wanted to come home with me. And if you're curious, some 30 years later, I am *still* the only one in the house who likes Chick-O-Sticks. Pfft. Whatevah.
A couple of months back I sat down and began a furious thought-spilling creative session on some details I want to work on in our home. Before I knew it I had a full pages of scribbles, divided by room and in order of priority. [Even in chaotic mess, I always, always have linear thought. And yes, it's annoying sometimes.] That paper has long been lost, somewhere beneath an ice cream dish on the bedside table or under a pile of Christmas receipts. Either way and possibly because of that pause in time, it's become time to sit down and start that again. I have new ideas, new things I want to try. Heck, the chalkboard wall wasn't even on the scribble list to begiin with!
It finally snowed today, but it will be gone within hours. It was 57 yesterday (another record high) but only 34 as I drove in this morning. We are under wind advisory all day because of gusts up to 40mph. Guess what is blowing in! WINTER (I hope). So, little baby flakes of ice have been blowing and gusting around all day long, none of them sticking around anywhere of note. It looks you know, cold and possibly whiter outside. That's more winter-like. I very much appreciate that. It's about time.
Mabel has asked me every day if it is time for her gymnastics class. To say she likes it is the understatement of the century. She was a natural! He leaped and jumped and even did the balance beam. I'm hoping to take pictures of both of our girls this Saturday when Hayley's mother isn't standing right beside. AWH-KWARD.
Can I wear leggings every day? Please?