I’ve always been pretty excited to start a new year. I get my new planner and set way too many lofty and crazy goals to meet. I enjoy fresh starts and new pages.

But this year has not matched the same always been. I’m stuck.

I started off 2019 with a hangover and a cold that turned into a sinus infection. My first day of 2019 was spent woozy and sneezing... and cleaning up an epic mess from a NYE party we had for about 100 adults and kids. (By the way, my sister-in-law cleaned up half my house and deserves major angel wings!)

Is anyone else with me? Does the thought of a new year seem daunting and not even a bit appealing? Do you wish you could go back to 2018? Am I the only one?!?

I spent some time this morning trying to organize my thoughts and set some goals. I filled up a piece of paper with about 40 goals and all of them seem stupid. I have managed to set two goals for 2019 - both stolen from others, I might add.

1. If a task will take less than one minute to do, go ahead and do it right then. I got this one from the "For the Love" podcast by Jen Hatmaker. Her guest, Gretchen Rubin, of the Happiness Project stated it was the smallest change she ever made with the biggest impact. Check. I will steal that same idea.
   
2. Spend a few hours on Sunday meal prepping for the week. If you know me well... or at all, really... you'll know my weakness is in the kitchen. So this is both a no-brainer and a shocker for me to adopt. Again, a stolen idea from my super-organized-great-cook-and-all-around-fabulous-human friend, Leah.

Other than those two goals, I'm all crickets.

I always listen to self-help podcasts (it use to be true crime podcast binging - I made that switch in 2018... I told you it was a banner year!), so I've had a wealth of ideas flooded into my brain over the past couple of months. Instead of helping me set goals though, it's just made me know a few things I'm NOT doing for 2019...

1. I'm not becoming a minimalist mom. I like having four sets of dinner ware and two different blenders. And while it would be nice to be able to actually walk in my walk-in closet, I'm just not ready to give away my pants from three children ago or my pile of throw pillows I only put out for company (because I cling to the hope that one day my kids and dogs won't destroy them and they can stay out permanently).
   
2. I'm not going to read more books. Everyone seems to be set on this one goal this year. I'll focus on getting through the books I have to read with a Kindergartner and 2nd grader in the house.
3. I'm not taking a social media vacation. I like social media. It makes me feel good to see what my family, friends and kinda-friends and acquaintances and complete strangers are up to. And I like letting them know what I'm up to as well.
4. I'm not vowing to lose weight. This is only because if I don't aim to lose weight this year, maybe it will happen. Every other year the opposite has happened so why not go with those odds. :)
   

Does a "not" list count for New Year's resolutions? If so, 2019 - I've got you! But to be honest, it doesn't feel like that. I feel lost without some goals.

So what are your big lofty New Year action plans? What are you going to accomplish for the greater good? Or for pure selfish reasons? I'm sure there are some other good goals out there I can steal to make me feel prepared for 2019.

One of my last posts on this blog just happened to be a year ago (yes, I know... that was a long time to go between posts) and it was about the holidays and grief. Sadness and the holidays is a whole other topic - but definitely a HUGE contributing factor to a
Stress-mas.

I did not want my holiday season to be filled only with grief this year, so I took action to make it different.

This is where I'm suppose to share my wisdom and tell you how to turn Stress-mas into Merry and Bright Christmas... Disclaimer, I am not a professional.

For me, making Christmas Bright all started with Thanksgiving (literally, the holiday - not the state of being thankful, though I am that for this season too). This year my husband and I decided to take a break from Thanksgiving. We boarded the dogs and packed our little family and went to St. Louis, Missouri. Why St. Louis?

1. It was within driving distance (we're in Huntsville, Alabama).
2. Our family had never been there together.
3. And most importantly, the Nashville Predators hockey team was playing the St. Louis Blues the day after Thanksgiving, so it was a no-brainer.
   

As you can see we really enjoyed the hockey game. My youngest was in rare form...

We spent our Thanksgiving together. Setting our own manageable schedule and enjoying some family time. We swam at the hotel indoor pool, ice skated in the park after the Thanksgiving Day parade, ate pizza - twice, saw the arch and contorted our bodies through crazy ridiculous ladders, mazes, tunnels and other various tight spaces at the City Museum. (Note: if you've never been to the City Museum, that place alone is worth the trip!)  We ate Thanksgiving breakfast and lunch at the hotel, and ventured out to Maggiano's for Thanksgiving dinner. Followed by a drive-thru light show.

I even snuck in a trip to IKEA all by my self [insert happy dance!]

Now I don't want to skip out on Thanksgiving traditions every year - we do love our families and spending time with them. But sometimes you have to say "no" to what others want for you and "yes" to what you know is best for you. And this year, this Thanksgiving, this time - getting away from it all was best for our family and quite honestly, reset my entire mindset for the whole holiday season.

This Thanksgiving gave me some time to breath. Some time to relax. Some time to be silly and wear knee pads and a head lamp out in public and crawl around tunnels with my kids. And this Thanksgiving helped me be thankful for the next season coming - Christmas.

Guys, it's not too late to say yes to a Bright Christmas!

You still have time to make this holiday one filled with all the things you love - not what others love for you. Build some space in your Christmas holiday for nothing... Or for something you know you'll enjoy. Make time for the "want tos" instead of "have tos."

Instead of forcing the kids to go stand in line for an hour of "making Santa memories," chill out and watch a Christmas movie and order pizza. Or if your kids really want to go stand in line for an hour to see Santa, forget about making that gingerbread house from scratch and hack that sucker up (WhatsupMoms has some great gingerbread hack tips by the way) to make some time for what is important to you.

I've already taken one event off our list for the weekend because I want to continue to feel relaxed and Christmas-y all the way through. I felt it was getting too full, so I said no to one event and it feels GREAT! So, what do you need to say "no" to to make room for what you really need? What can you eliminate to make time for your best Christmas yet?

I pray this Christmas is merry and bright!

1.    You have used duct tape to keep your kid’s hockey socks from falling down.
2.    You have ever made an emergency U-turn because you accidentally left an elbow pad at the Huntsville Iceplex.
3.    You have ever broken a stick with the tailgate of your minivan.
4.    U8 players look really big to you.
5.   You have ever had to air out your entire laundry room because you forgot to unpack your kid’s gear so it could dry.

6.    You have shamelessly used your smartphone to amuse younger siblings for an hour during practice.
7.    You know, off the top of your head, the price of a “Whole Pizza Family Combo” at the rink grill (extra points if you comment on this blog post with the correct price).
8.    You can recite verbatim the Herb Brooks’ pre-game “Miracle” speech.

9.    You have ever made excuses for why you cannot buy old NHL playing cards in the gear store.
10.    You have wondered why the Iceplex time schedule lists all of the times using the half hour.
11.    You ever wondered how they came up with the names for Termites, Mites and Squirts.
12.    You have ever driven with the windows down in the dead of winter because your kid’s gear stinks so badly.
13.    You have ever purchased the same water bottle five times in a single season because they keep magically disappearing.
14.    You have ever wondered what in the heck is “Sharks and Minnows.”

15.    You own multiple Little Preds and Sherwood ambidextrous hockey sticks.
16.    You have ever given evil looks to another parent because their kid keeps tripping yours.
17.    Your 5-year-old can spell Zamboni.

18.    None of your children can play chess because they get confused over how to “check” their opponent.
19.    You have made the conscious decision that the jersey doesn’t HAVE to be washed after every practice.
20.    You have ever spent more money on a pair of skates than on your own shoes.
21.    You are on a first name basis with Liz, Martin and Mike.
22.    Your dining room table serves as a gear drying rack.
23.    You and your kids sing along to “Charles Pitman is the way to go! Dial 5-3-3-5-0-0-0.”

24.    You constantly forget to bring your $2 refill cup to the VBCC.
25.    If you or anyone in your family has ever won a game of Chuck-A-Puck.
26.    You have “liberated” foam red Chuck-A-Pucks all over your house.
27.    You have ever bought PVC joints at the hardware store to fix a mini hockey net.
28.    You can name all of the characters from “Mighty Ducks.”
29.    You got irritated because your Termite didn’t get enough double shifts during a game.
30.    You secretly keep score.

I haven’t really talked much about my mom on this blog... But see, she passed away four years ago today.

There are many experts out there on grief... I have no idea how to counsel someone on how to deal with it. For me? I usually bottle it up until an important day (like today) comes along and then I wollow in it. Reading, remembering, listening to songs... completely taking myself there to feel it all over again. As my husband puts the kids to bed, that’s what I’m doing now - reading through a blog I started for my mom a few months before she passed. It was my last present to her - a gesture to let her know I was thinking about her daily.

I got stuck on this particular post written one week after she died. You can read it below.

Last year I remember I was whining about the fact that I didn’t feel much at all. Read my post about that. I wanted to be sad but just wasn’t.

This year I’m feeling all the feels.

It’s like I’ve been preparing for it... I bought a bottle of wine for it... I listened to Willie Nelson’s “Always On My Mind” today, I wore the bracelet of sand dollars that makes me think of her today...

And I’m writing this rambling post about it - why, I’m not sure?! But it does feel good to just put it out there.

I miss you, Mom. I miss you a lot.

I wish you could see my adorable children and my new house. I wish you could see your old ornaments hanging on my Christmas tree.

I wish you knew I finally learned how to cook (or kinda - I did manage to make dinner tonight) that I changed jobs and that I still love to decorate gifts. I’d tell you that I’ve written a few more poems and that I still love to sing. I’d show you silly videos of my kids running through sprinklers and jumping in leaf piles and talk with you about how much Norah looks like the pictures I remember of when you were little. And how Zave is playing hockey - yes, that’s right - hockey at 6 years old. And I would just introduce you to Banks since you two never got to meet.

You’d also be proud to know how your giving spirit lives on a little through me as I try to love on and befriend those who miss their mamas too. That might be the only good thing I see from this experience - you leaving this earth helped my heart grow just a little bit bigger for those grieving a loved one too.

Here’s what I started to write more than a year ago:

​You see those two sleeping in their strollers behind me? Yes this is my spot for the Auburn homecoming game we drove down for. They both fell asleep on the stroll to the stadium from the tailgate, and now we're hanging out in the breezeway while they sleep it off. I'm sitting on the floor.

Where in the world is my shot of rum when I need it?

They eventually woke up and we went inside to join our party and watch the game. I’m guessing that’s why I never finished the post...

Sleeping in the breezeway wasn’t the only hiccup we had. Our oldest (poor guy) got sick at the tailgate and he and Dadda never even made it in to the game. 😔

And yet, here we are... on our way to repeat the whole craziness again. And by the way our 3.5-hour drive has so far taken us 4.5 hours and we still have 56 miles to go... I’m worried this year is off to an even worse start?!?

So bottom line: should I sneak some spirits into the game this time around or not?!? It might not be such a bad idea!

According to Buzzfeed’s ideas, my hair isn’t long enough to pull off this strategy... But maybe I could hollow out my kids’ juice boxes or toys and stash some booze in there. Man, they sure have gotten more creative then when I was in college!

Wish us luck as we attempt again this year. And may we at least get a decent family picture out of it... unlike the escape-cheerleader-oversized-sick-boy-in-a-stroller-blurry-light-heads family photo opp of 2016.

​War Eagle!

Of course, what is there not to love about pizza? It’s gooey. It’s greasy. You can cut it into spiffy little triangles. It’s generally covered in enough cholesterol sodden cheese that your arteries will notice. And for all of us lazy suburbanites with hungry little people about the house, for about $25, in half an hour you can have a pimple-faced teenager show up at your door with a short flat box containing a delicious, steaming pizza. Put another way, you can pay just $25 to completely absolve yourself of the parental responsibility of cooking your kids a balanced meal. As I write this article on the 4th of July, all I can say to this very American concept is… GOD BLESS AMERICA!

Okay, so we can all agree that having pizzas delivered to your home is just a peachy idea, but you still have to order the pizza. Nowadays, everyone is all about smart phone apps and the Internet. You can even track your pizza – from the process of it being made to its journey through the oven, to delivery at your door – right from your smart phone.

As many of you know, my wife and I recently moved into a new home. Yesterday, I attempted to place an order to the local Dominos. Many of you also know that I’m not exactly what you might call techno-savvy, but I decided to get with the 21st century and order my pizza online.

I found the Dominos website easily enough. I clicked on the button to place my order online. The website asked if this was for delivery or pickup and then asked for my address. For whatever reason, their website didn’t like my address at first and told me that no such address existed. How dare it! For Peter’s sake, I’m sitting in the house as I’m placing the order. Stupid computer!

After more than half an hour of figuring out which address their website would actually accept and going through a ridiculously over complicated series of decisions as to what I actually wanted to order, I was finally led to the webpage where I had to enter my credit card number. That’s when I noticed the price of my order came to almost $40. 

You see, I had a coupon that was supposed to chop the price down to nearly half of that amount, but nope… the Dominos website was having none of it. Over and over, I tried to enter my order, but all for nothing. I should also point out that it’s a good thing that my wonderful wife had taken our youngest out into the backyard to play while I was doing all of this because otherwise I might have to explain to a 2-year-old not to repeat certain four-lettered words shouted out by daddy.

In all, I spent about 45 minutes just trying to PLACE my order online only to be foiled by some mystery glitch. I could have already been enjoying a pizza in the length of time I spent just trying to be a modern tech-savvy man. In the end, I called the local Dominos on the phone. A youthful and chipper sounding person took my address, my order and my credit card number in less than five minutes and even told me to have a “Happy 4th of July.” She sounded like she was smiling as she said this and, call me gullible, but I think she really meant it.

So, what does this have to do with not being afraid and all? A lot. You have probably seen something on the news or read a newspaper article about how artificial intelligence will soon be taking away our jobs, cars are on the verge of driving themselves, and well, who hasn’t seen the 1980s movie “Terminator.” 

I’m here to tell you that all of these fears are a just bunch of hullabaloo. I’m sure there are some fine folks working at Dominos, but if you can’t even order a pizza online, nobody, and I mean NOBODY is in danger of losing their jobs from an imminent artificial intelligence revolution. Be ye not afraid, the Terminator is not coming any time soon!

It was all because of me.

I know that sounds a tad bit (or A WHOLE LOT) self absorbed, but hear me out.

I am a cautious mom. A hold-tight-to-the-rail-when-on-the-stairs-reminding mom. I have a hard time "being chill" when my kids aren't quietly tucked in their beds. I'm also a scheduling mom and one that follows the rules. Needless to say, when kids are just being kids, it goes against every grain in my body. My first reaction is always to stop [insert whatever less than desired behavior]. In my kids' eyes, I'm pretty sure this makes me a drag to be around.

​For whatever reason, unbeknownst to me, something in me changed on this trip.

I didn't set out to be the fun mom on this trip. I didn't give myself a pep talk beforehand or mentally decide to take chill pill. I started off just like I tackle everything else - making detailed lists of what to pack and where to go, researching which days would be less crowded at which locations. Trying to figure out where the St. Patty's Day traffic would be and take my family the opposite way to avoid unruly crowd behavior.

But somewhere between Thursday night packing and stepping out of the car to go to the aquarium on Friday, my mentality changed. And it made all the difference. For me. For all of us.

I didn't even freak out when my husband, Marc, decided to take the two oldest across the swinging bridge.

I didn't even scream across the way for them to hold tight! 

I would venture out to even call this family time away a vacation. Normally I'm of the mindset of going out of town with your kids is a trip - not a vacation. But this time was so different. It didn't fell like work at all! 

​Here are some more photo highlights.

​P.S. Just to keep it authentic - we did have some whiny times and a few hiccups along the way. When you have a 2-year-old, 4-year-old and (almost) 6-year-old, there will be some meltdowns. But they were few and far between - and a relaxed mama is way more equipped to handle those than a stressed out one!

For the past two years, November 28 has brought a crushing wave of emotion. However, this year grief has looked a little different for me than before. The picture above popped up in my Facebook feed this morning and it reminded me that I hadn't yet cried for my Mama. In fact, I can't quite remember the last time I have cried over my Mama.

​The only sign of emotion I showed at all today (until now when I forced myself to think about the subject in detail) was in quick passing with a friend while I dropped off some clothes for her daughter on an early lunch break. Even then, remembering my Mama was on a long list of things I rattled off as making my day a "bad day." I choked up for a minute, composed myself and kept on talking.

Maybe I should feel good about the fact that the sting is a little less... relieved that the thought of my Mama's passing isn't debilitating? Wrong. Feeling that way had turned into something completely different that I never expected - guilt. 

I'm not talking about the guilt you expect someone to feel after someone's passing. I've been through the "should-coulda-woulda" stage of grief before. I've thought many a long night about how I could've been closer to my mom, why I didn't visit more, why I picked so many needless fights with her, how sorry I felt that I grew up closer to my Dad than I did to her, asking myself why I let her little idiosyncrasies embarrass me... Those feelings of grief are in check. The grief feeling I'm talking about looks more like this picture:

Confused?

Yes, me too. The guilt I feel is because quite honestly, right now my Mama's absence isn't consuming. I feel guilty because I should be sad. I should still cry. I should have a hard time celebrating my son's 2nd birthday because I should be so upset that my Mama isn't there to see it.

This feeling is confusing. Conflicting even. I know she would be happy that I'm happy in this picture above. But then why do I feel so dern guilty about being happy just like she would want? This is not how a daughter is suppose to act three years after her mom is gone - or at least, not how the picture I have in my mind about grief should look...

As any normal human I took to Google to see if anyone else had my same problem. This is the pre-populated search at the bottom of the search page:

Those searches don't even seem related to how I'm feeling. I do feel something very real - I feel guilty for not being sad. Does anyone else on the planet not feel this way? Am I the only completely heartless and selfish daughter out there?

I've heard the old saying life must go on. She would want me to be happy. She would want me to make the most of every day in her loving memory. And OK, I see the good in those sayings, but it's not changing the fact that I want to be sad over this. 

It's comforting in some strange way to burst in to tears because I miss her so. I feel much more comfortable with crying because the anniversary of her death is later this week than knowing the day is coming and not crying over it.

Have you ever watched a sad movie on purpose because you wanted to cry? My go-tos are "The Notebook" or "Beaches" or "Hope Floats." And I'm sure I could buy one of those on Amazon right now and have myself a good cry but I think that would make me feel even more guilty - that a movie can make me sob, but remembering November 28, 2013, can't even conjure up an ugly-cry face.

To reference a quote from one of those tear-jerking movies, my cup does not runneth over. My cup seems empty.

As dissatisfied and fed up as I am with our current place, it definitely fits my definition of "home." We bought this place when my oldest was just 6 months old. He is now 5-and-a-half. All three of my kiddos have learned to crawl and walk in this place. They learned to talk here and have decorated many windows and pieces of furniture with stickers here. The days are long but the years are short, eh?

The house we currently live in is well worn. My old pal from Nashville had some of the same sentiment. Diane wrote, "Scratches and dents on our hardwoods show our house has been lived in ... However frustrating it may be, we have put them there from sippy cups falling, platters slipping, the dog running to the front door and boys running throughout the house."

I agree completely, Diane. Let's call this a design style "bruises and scratches of love." It's not fancy. I wouldn't even say it's decorated... more like arranged to maximize the play space and minimize children injuries. Or at least that's how it is here.

Sure, I'm looking forward to the day when we can all fit around a single table for a meal in our house. Or when I no longer have to squeeze between a washer and dryer and a pile of coats and backpacks to get to the van. I can't wait to have a closet big enough to stop the seasonal clothes switchout or my very own sink to powder with makeup as much as I want.

But will that place feel like home? Our home?

Will I miss coming down the stairs and recalling the very spot all three of my children experienced their first Christmas?

I know... I know...Home is where the heart is. Yadada yadada yadada. But does that translate to new construction in a suburban paradise of freshly laid brick?

When I asked several friends what makes their house a home, I was encouraged that our new abode will indeed one day feel like home - that the little touches children leave along the way are what really make the place.

Or touches from the family dog.

I was a bit jealous of Debbie's answer. Instead of sticky fingerprints or even dog hair, she has funny and thoughtful notes scattered all around her house from her kids. Taped up in the fridge or a post-it on a mirror. How precious is that?!? I can't imagine getting notes from my kids instead of barks to get them a drink or demands to watch TV or cries for attention. Fingers crossed mine decide to be that sweet!

On the walls...

Or in the form of food (I'd call culinary masterpieces artwork!).

I found it interesting that many of the ladies I asked responded with quotes or scripture in their homes - almost like little family mottoes or creeds. It makes me want to adopt one for my own ragtag-band. 

The options for a Minish family motto I was thinking of aren't quite as profound as the ladies' I've chosen as friends. I was thinking along the lines of:

• No more whining in this house until Mama has her own wine.
• Home is where I can look ugly and enjoy it.
• My home will look and smell much better when all my money and time no longer goes towards diapers (Seriously! I have a whole closet dedicated just to diapers and wipes...).

I'm not sure what I was expecting people to say about making a house feel like a home... My quartzite island definitely set the home bar for me... Or the stain we chose on our hardwoods just makes the whole place feel like home... All that thought I put into wallpaper in the laundry - that sir, that made the house a home right away... Those all just sound ridiculous, but those are they type of considerations I have going on my head!

For sure anywhere I take these precious humans they will turn the place upside down real quick, which should add a layer of just-lived-in homeyness to the whole block!

What are your favorite things that scream home to you? Or do you have any tips for creating a homey look? I so, I'd love to hear your comments!

Holy moly, we are building a house. A home! The place we believe could be our final move. Well, maybe not our final - we're still debating on how to spend retirement - living in a big ol' house without our kids waiting on grandchildren, or renting a place in Tuscany and traveling all over. But I digress...

As excited as we are in this picture, this process is stressful. No doubt the biggest undertaking (well, other than deciding to bring humans into this world - three times) we've ever experienced as a couple.

The decisions! Oh the hundreds and thousands of decisions... mortar, brick, soffits, paint, trim, window panels or no window panels, door knobs, cabinet pulls, window placement, hard wood color and size... and those are just some of the obvious ones!

We are lucky enough to contract our own designer to help us with the process (insert shout out to Kelly Hudson, a Huntsville gal here!), as well as a real estate agent (Russ Hayles deserves recognition as well), but a lot of folks take on this endeavor by themselves. Just them and a builder and the builder's agent. No offense to builders - our builder, Pearson Homes, makes some absolutely stunning and what appears to be, quality homes (we hope so, right?!?).

I would be lost during this process without guidance from trusted professionals like our own agent and designer. Or friends that have been through this before... Just earlier this week one of my friends was looking over our plans and found three flaws that I hadn't noticed... The builder hadn't addressed... How many more aspects are out there I haven't considered?!? (Agh - see why this is stressful?)  ​

Speaking of considered... Do you know the color of your door hinges? I didn't even care until presented with all the myriad of choices for hardware. Now I seem to be obsessed with how everything will look against brushed nickle door knobs, hinges, pulls, [insert all other types of hardware here]. Oh my - I just thought of how our garage door hardware is a different material!?! Does that actually matter? Will my whole design plan fail on this one detail?

That might be a bit of an exaggeration but it certainly feels that crucial when deciding these things. All of these little tiny details that you have never given one ounce of thought to before, become near-lifelong commitments. Because you know 20 years from now you will kick yourself thinking, "I should have stuck with my first choice on that one..."

Who knew I had such a penchant for ivory mortar? But I punted that one for interior eggshell paint. Will I pinch myself over that one in the future? Only time will tell. 

​Even building a house is full of life's little compromises.