my day of boxing. in retrospect.

anyway,I had a productive day yesterday.  Showered, dressed and ready to go by 8am, I had high hopes for the day.  My sister-in-law's baby shower is this weekend, and I had a lot to do in order to get ready for my hosting duties {yes, I said duties}.  I was out of the house with Landon in tow by 8:10, got my Starbucks fix by 8:30, was at Target by 8:50 and ran in and out of Michael's by 9:45.  After driving home and switching my wardrobe around, I went to work.  The day was looking good.

I had planned the evening around Maya's viola lesson which happens every thursday at 5:30.  In my head, I had my route planned out... viola teacher's house, Starbucks {again}, pick up maya, run for shoes, ect.  It was well thought out and was going to work... until 4:00 hit.

ethan was the first of my children to get off the bus, and in perfect ethan form, totally didn't see me standing there at the bus stop waiting for them {or at least that's what i convinced myself of... because any other explanation would probably induce tears}.  maya exited the bus, came across the street and wouldn't look at me.  she didn't have her viola {she had orchestra yesterday}.  i asked her where it was and she told me she forgot it in her classroom.  then she burst into tears.  i asked her what was wrong and she held up a sandwich sized ziploc bag with the arm of her glasses inside.  ugh.  her glasses broke.  so, i tried to comfort her {because i knew that she was very upset and she thought -knew- I would be upset too... but i didn't let her know that i was.  too tramatic.}.  anyway, i had to call her instructor for viola to tell her that maya forgot her instrument at school and wouldn't be able to make her lesson.  i sent ethan out to the car to get my cell phone so i could look up the number.  got the phone.  call made.  done.  i had to readjust my evening and decided to head over to the eye doctor to see what could be done about her glasses. i woke landon up from his nap, packed his paraphernalia, rounded up the big kids and went to get in the car.

Guess what?  ethan decided to lock the car door when he was done.  car keys on the driver's seat.  spare key in purse.  purse on passenger's side seat.

gah....

i know.  i know.  why would i leave my keys and my purse and the spare in the car?  it's a habit i've made when i know i'll be leaving shortly.  it's a bad one, i'm aware, but it's a habit.  it won't happen again.

anyway, i called my parents and asked to borrow a car.  after the words left my mouth, i realized it didn't matter if i had a car, i had no money.  so i had to call mike.

long story short, mike called AAA, they came within an hour, glasses are being ordered and life went on.

by the time mike got home last night {8pm}, i just had to get out.  alone.  and after sobbing into the chest of my best friend, asking to be a normal family again, i was able to step out for a few hours and breathe.  i met my very good friend for some coffee/iced tea {at starbucks.. i did get my fix} and was able to just talk and be in the moment.

in retrospect, it wasn't a bad day.  it just wasn't what i had planned and i had to roll with the punches.  i just feel like life throws punches left and right and i get knocked out of the ring a lot.  

flashback.

have you ever seen someone from your past and your head becomes flooded with {good or bad} memories?

i just had that experience.

after work, i ran over to target to pick up a prescription at the pharmacy. i was on my way out and i looked off to the side and saw someone i knew from high school. we weren't friends. we weren't unfriendly, either. actually, she just scared the crap out of me.

i'm kind of amazed that after all these years, that one individual still had an effect on me. my stomach was actually in a knot and i darted out of there as quickly as i could. i wonder if people see me from afar and have bouts of past feelings {again, good or bad} about me? it makes me think. and definitely puts a perspective on how i live my life. what kind of 'aura' have i put out there? {and for the record, i do not believe in 'the universe', karma, or auras... it was just the only word i could think of}.

frayed edges

life has been so crazy lately. and if i'm gong to be honest, i'm completely burned out. completely. i don't want to be whiney or complain too much, but i'm so exhausted from trying to be everything to everybody that i've complete forgotten about myself. and really? i don't have the time or energy to put into anything more.

this week i've been preparing for my sister-in-law's baby shower which is being held this weekend. i'm pulling together final details, making sure every little thing is perfect {or as close to perfect as i can get it} and wrapping up loose ends. we {my mom, maya, ethan and landon} will be leaving friday after school to make our way to scranton. i'm not someone who is comfortable in front of people who i don't know {i'm barely comfortable in front of people who i do know}, so my nerves are starting. i'm sure everything will be fine.

it has to be.

after this weekend, i really just want to take some time for myself and pickup all pieces of my self and try to reassemble them back into a productive jaimie. i'm just so tired. and i'm so concerned that i'm letting someone down if i don't continue with this pace. but i've been here before. i don't want to be there again. it's not pretty.

i just want to crawl in a hole and just be... and sleep.

being bilingual

I'm bilingual. Fluently bilingual. And no, I don't speak French, Italian, Greek, Russian, Chinese or Spanish {even after 4 years of Espanol in high school}. I'm fluent in Sarcasm. Those who know me know that I tend to be a little sarcastic. Just a little. I really don't know where it stems from. My parents were not sarcastic people, however, both my brother and I are extremely sarcastic. My mother often wonders 'what went wrong' and 'where did that come from'. I just think it's part of my charm. Actually, I sometimes {a lot of times} use sarcasm as a coping mechanism. Sarcasm for survival. I don't know why. I guess instead of charm, it's more like a character flaw.

I can't pinpoint when I began speaking Sarcasm. It was one of those things that just evolved into my normal speech. Most times, people know when I've switched from English to that other language. Most times. My children, for one, usually know when it's sarcasm and they just need to ignore Mommy and weed through what she said for the true underlying message. They are extremely aware when teachers switch to sarcasm during class and they get it. I've had a teacher tell me that Maya is the only one in class who hears the sarcasm, giggles, then ignores it and moves on. She never took her sarcasm seriously like her classmates {oh, I was so proud...} Both of my older children know when it's serious and when it's not. Or at least I thought they did.

Ethan has been this little independent cool person who, apparently, is way to cool to say goodbye to his mother at the bus stop. I don't fight it, but it kind of bothers me. But one day, he got off the bus in the afternoon, ran over to me as I sat on the hill waiting for them, and gave me this huge hug. It totally made my day.

Later on in the evening, I thanked him for the hug. I thanked him for getting off the bus, running across the street and giving me a huge hug hello. He started to argue with me. I thanked him again. Still, he argued with me! Finally, he said to me, "Mommy, are you serious?". Um, YES! Thanks for the hug, buddy. Thanks for greeting me and not ignoring my existence. Thanks for loving me.

His reply? "I thought you were being sarcastic."

oh crap.

I went on to say that I loved how he got off the bus and ran to me and hugged me. I told him it made my day. He beamed a little. I suppose little people like to know that they made someone happy.

I suppose I need to stick to one language for a bit around here. Or at the very least preface my serious comments with 'seriously'. I dunno. I'm pretty sure I'm screwing up my kids. They'll end up in some kind of therapy, rocking back and forth, crying that they never knew when mommy was serious or when she was joking.

*sigh*

being intentional.

This morning, I attended the funeral of a woman whom I had never met. Strange, you might say. I guess it might have been strange, but this woman was the mother of our close friend. We had to go. In our minds, it wasn't even a question of whether we go or not. Our friends needed to know that we loved them and we were there to support them. She was called home to Jesus unexpectedly, and I've struggled with what I should do for or say to this family. I haven't come up with anything yet... so I just pray.

But as I sat in the pew, I began to wish that I had had the opportunity to meet this woman. From the crowd in the foyer, to the line of waiting people going into the sanctuary, to the group that stayed for the services, it was obvious that she was loved. She made an impact. She made the difference to a lot of people.

So, being the selfish person I am, I started to think about my funeral and who would come. What would they say about me? Who have I made a difference to?

I struggled with that question on the way home. As I planned out my funeral and told my husband what my desires were {I will be holding a stuffed monkey and there will be a loud band playing amazing music}, I began to think about all of the people I love and those I come in contact with and wondered what difference did I make in their lives? Did I even make a difference? Five years after I go home to Heaven, would I even be remembered? What a sobering thought.

I decided recently that I want to live intentionally. I want to love with intention. Too often, I get caught up in my life and what I want to accomplish and end up wondering why people don't love on me. Have I really done that for others? My goal is to love people deliberately. I don't want to ask myself 'what if' later down the road. I want to know that I deliberately cared for and showed those who walk in and out of my life that they mattered.

How would you live intentionally?

beautiful morning

I woke up this morning and my husband was sleeping beside me. What a great start to my morning! I got to snuggle with my sweetheart and when I looked at him, I got a huge smile on my face. He said I looked giddy.

I was.

not enough time.

Here's a math equation...

There are 24 hours in a day and 168 in a week. My husband worked 81 hours this week. If you add on the 1.25 hours each way to drive there, he was away from us for approximately 98.5 hours this week. Then, if you figure in 7 hours of sleeping a night, we get a whopping 20.5 hours with him a week. Break it down by day? 2.86 hours a day is spent at home and awake. It sucks.

I miss my husband very much. Very much. And honestly, I would give up every earthly possession if it meant I would have more time with him. Seriously. Don't get me wrong, I am so very thankful for all of the wonderful things that I have... my beautiful house, my car, ect. But really? It means nothing in comparison to having time with my husband.

I get frustrated when women complain about their husbands having to work late one night. They really don't understand, nor do they realize how incredibly lucky they are to have someone home with them.

I'm trying not to complain. God has taken care of us and continues to remain faithful. It is just really hard. And lonely.

I miss my husband.

I miss my partner in life.

I miss my partner in caring for our children.

I miss the man I laugh with...

...The man I dream with...

...The man I love.

new year. new routines.

The beginning of a new school year is like January 1st to me. I get a new calendar in January, but my new year begins the day my kids step on the bus for the first time after summer break. Our school year has begun {and I'll dare to add smoothly}. Today is day 3 of that new year, and if all goes as the last 2 have, I have high hopes for the remaining 177.

Maya started in a new school this year. She is now a big kid and is in the Intermediate School. Wow. I'm having a hard time wrapping my brain around her being in fifth grade. It's just not possible. And my Ethan? He's in 3rd grade?? Crazy.

We started a new routine for the school year which I'm super stoked about. I've had intentions of doing this in previous years, but I'm not very good with following through. It's a character flaw. It's one of many. But this year is different. This year I am GOING to do this. It's a necessity.

Every morning after breakfast is served and enjoyed, my big kids and I sit down and read the Bible and do a daily {kid} devotional and then pray. I wasn't sure how my kids would respond to my idea, but I am excited to report that they are completely on board. And after this morning's discussion and prayer? I got a hug from my son.

Made. My. Day.

We've done this for 3 days now. What is that saying? Do something 21 times and it's a habit? Ok, 3 down, 18 to go. I know we can do this. We have to do this. It's so very important... if I'm not going to have my kids read about and talk to God, who is? Who else is going to pray for their safety? For their attentiveness and learning environment? Who else is going to ask God to protect them from all the evil in the world? Probably no one... That's all up to Mike and me. I'm taking that seriously.

So, I ask for prayer. If you think of me or one of my kids, pray that we follow through with our new routine. It's really important to me... to all of us.