Well, guess what came in the mail for me this past weekend?!?
Isn't my husband the best?!?
Monday, March 16, 2009
Fun in a Bag
Do you remember this post?
Well, guess what came in the mail for me this past weekend?!?
Isn't my husband the best?!?
Well, guess what came in the mail for me this past weekend?!?
Isn't my husband the best?!?
Company on Purpose
Paul and I have discovered the secret to getting projects done around our home at lightning speed...company.
We had our friends, Ben, Caitlin and Baby Coleman over for dinner last night and man, you should've seen Paul and I running around like chickens with our heads cut off trying to get the house presentable. It was in working order already, but there were a few projects that we had been putting off.
But the kitchen is pretty much finished. There are a few little knick-knacks and things I'd like to add to the shelf above the cabinetry, but I'll slowly collect the things I love from antique shops and flea markets.
We had our friends, Ben, Caitlin and Baby Coleman over for dinner last night and man, you should've seen Paul and I running around like chickens with our heads cut off trying to get the house presentable. It was in working order already, but there were a few projects that we had been putting off.
But the kitchen is pretty much finished. There are a few little knick-knacks and things I'd like to add to the shelf above the cabinetry, but I'll slowly collect the things I love from antique shops and flea markets.
Time with Family
This past Saturday, Paul and I made the short trek down to northern Virginia to visit my brother, Justin and his ever-growing, gorgeous family. They recently welcomed baby #3 to the bunch and she is beautiful. Baby Violet is perfect in all of her preemie-ness. Weighing maybe 6 lbs at almost 3 weeks old, holding her was like holding a chihuahua puppy. Perhaps not the most poetic description, but hey, that's what came to mind people.
Eva and Izzy LOVED playing with Devon (4) and Autumn (only 2 months younger than Eva) and Paul and I enjoyed the company and good conversation with Justin and Anna. I'll tell you, being in the military, we really have been blessed to live near at least part of our family at some point at almost every base so far.
Eva and Izzy LOVED playing with Devon (4) and Autumn (only 2 months younger than Eva) and Paul and I enjoyed the company and good conversation with Justin and Anna. I'll tell you, being in the military, we really have been blessed to live near at least part of our family at some point at almost every base so far.
To Blog or Not to Blog
That is the question that one must answer for himself.
For all of those who believe blogging is a method of painting a picture of what we wish our life looked life...foo on you!
Blogging for me is a method of savoring the moments I hope never to forget. It's a way of reflecting on my life and reminding myself of how good I really do have it. It's something I do for my girls. it's stories that I hope to share with them when they're older. It's a place my friends and family who don't live near can come to see pictures of the kids and read about what we're up to as a family.
Some of us are born story tellers. With blogging, the story is our everyday lives.
Some of us are not born story tellers. If one chooses not to blog, they'll face no judgment from me. But I choose to blog, and if it bothers you, than don't feel obligated to read it.
For all of those who believe blogging is a method of painting a picture of what we wish our life looked life...foo on you!
Blogging for me is a method of savoring the moments I hope never to forget. It's a way of reflecting on my life and reminding myself of how good I really do have it. It's something I do for my girls. it's stories that I hope to share with them when they're older. It's a place my friends and family who don't live near can come to see pictures of the kids and read about what we're up to as a family.
Some of us are born story tellers. With blogging, the story is our everyday lives.
Some of us are not born story tellers. If one chooses not to blog, they'll face no judgment from me. But I choose to blog, and if it bothers you, than don't feel obligated to read it.
Thursday, March 12, 2009
Unloading...In More Ways Than One
Unpacking can be an emotional experience. As you sort through boxes, you inevitably find things that bring back fond memories. Items you haven't seen in forever all of the sudden re-appear to remind you of how things used to be.
I love my life the way it is right now. I wouldn't change a thing about it. I look at pictures of when I was young and single and had zero responsibilities and I honestly don't pine for those days even a smidgen. My body, however...
Wow! I was cute, friends.
As Paul and I went through a box of military awards, medals and unit photographs, I came across my class photo from when I graduated from intelligence training at Goodfellow AFB in Texas back in 2005. Granted, I was decked out in camo from head to toe, but I was lean and tan and healthy. That wasn't my lowest weight ever, but I was happy.
And now, two babies later...well, I certainly don't look like that anymore.
So now, we're mostly settled into the house and I've started going to the gym again. The last time I was part of an actual gym was back in 2001/2002. I was 19 and my dear friend, Ashley, a professed workout-aholic, was an incredible accountability partner. I LOVED working out with her. She had me so fired up about fitness that I would spend 45 minutes doing cardio at the gym followed by a little weight training and then, once I got home, I'd run sprints up and down my street only to finish off by doing 100's of situps and pushups.
Once I joined the military, our workouts were pretty routine. We had unit PT and it mostly consisted of running the track and doing calisthenics.
But now, it's just me. Yes, of course my husband offers me some good moral support, but this has to be just for me. So, yesterday was my first morning workout at my new gym (which is really just the workout room at my neighborhood community center, but hey...baby steps).
I don't know what it is about going to a new gym that is so unnerving for me. When I walk in for the first time with the sheepish, "I know I shouldn't be here look on my face," I feel like everyone is staring at my pasty, lanky knock-kneed legs and thinking to themselves, "this should be good." All of the sudden, my keen ability to figure things out fairly quickly escapes me and I'm fumbling over buttons on the treadmill. My Ipod becomes a mystery and my headphones won't stay in my ears. I'm unsure of the "rules" and whether or not someone else would be bothered by my turning on the TV. My shorts want to ride up the whole time I'm running and I'm continually pulling them down (only highlighting my horse legs and my lack of cooridination). 10 minutes into my workout, I'm sweating like a pig, my face bright red and I'm huffing and puffing like the big, bad wolfe with asthma all the while the Marine chick next to me has been on the treadmill for like, an hour, and there's no sign of any fatigue on her. Ugh.
But I'll keep plugging away. I may however, be investing in a few good pair of workout pants.
I love my life the way it is right now. I wouldn't change a thing about it. I look at pictures of when I was young and single and had zero responsibilities and I honestly don't pine for those days even a smidgen. My body, however...
Wow! I was cute, friends.
As Paul and I went through a box of military awards, medals and unit photographs, I came across my class photo from when I graduated from intelligence training at Goodfellow AFB in Texas back in 2005. Granted, I was decked out in camo from head to toe, but I was lean and tan and healthy. That wasn't my lowest weight ever, but I was happy.
And now, two babies later...well, I certainly don't look like that anymore. So now, we're mostly settled into the house and I've started going to the gym again. The last time I was part of an actual gym was back in 2001/2002. I was 19 and my dear friend, Ashley, a professed workout-aholic, was an incredible accountability partner. I LOVED working out with her. She had me so fired up about fitness that I would spend 45 minutes doing cardio at the gym followed by a little weight training and then, once I got home, I'd run sprints up and down my street only to finish off by doing 100's of situps and pushups.
Once I joined the military, our workouts were pretty routine. We had unit PT and it mostly consisted of running the track and doing calisthenics.
But now, it's just me. Yes, of course my husband offers me some good moral support, but this has to be just for me. So, yesterday was my first morning workout at my new gym (which is really just the workout room at my neighborhood community center, but hey...baby steps).
I don't know what it is about going to a new gym that is so unnerving for me. When I walk in for the first time with the sheepish, "I know I shouldn't be here look on my face," I feel like everyone is staring at my pasty, lanky knock-kneed legs and thinking to themselves, "this should be good." All of the sudden, my keen ability to figure things out fairly quickly escapes me and I'm fumbling over buttons on the treadmill. My Ipod becomes a mystery and my headphones won't stay in my ears. I'm unsure of the "rules" and whether or not someone else would be bothered by my turning on the TV. My shorts want to ride up the whole time I'm running and I'm continually pulling them down (only highlighting my horse legs and my lack of cooridination). 10 minutes into my workout, I'm sweating like a pig, my face bright red and I'm huffing and puffing like the big, bad wolfe with asthma all the while the Marine chick next to me has been on the treadmill for like, an hour, and there's no sign of any fatigue on her. Ugh.
But I'll keep plugging away. I may however, be investing in a few good pair of workout pants.
Monday, March 9, 2009
Fun Quiz
If you're anything like me, you have a hard time putting your finger on what you're decorating style is. I know what I like, I know what I don't like, but I don't know how consistent it is. There are many a decorator out there that would most likely spend 10 minutes with me and throw their hands in the air in frustration.
But I found this quiz linked on another blog that I love and it was pretty on point, I think. And now, when someone asks "What would you say your decorating style is?" I can confidently say that it is 46% Cottage Chic, 31% Modern Elegance and 23% Nantucket Style.
But I found this quiz linked on another blog that I love and it was pretty on point, I think. And now, when someone asks "What would you say your decorating style is?" I can confidently say that it is 46% Cottage Chic, 31% Modern Elegance and 23% Nantucket Style.
The Signs of Girlhood
It's written all over my house. I have girls. I can't walk a foot in this house without stepping on a hair barrette or a My Little Pony. Sometimes I smile and start singing "Little Girls" from Annie to myself, only I really love having little girl stuff all over my house.
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