Good Intentions

I would label myself as organized, if not a little OCD.
Some days, though, I get into bed exhausted and wonder what I did that day.  I mean, taking care of another human being is a pretty big deal, but still.  I know I'm capable, but some days, I feel much less than.
Enter Tsh, blogger at simplemom.net and author of Organized Simplicity.  I have a huge admiration for blogger mommies who are amazing writers.  Tsh is that and so much more.

I downloaded the e-version of her book onto my iPad, and though I'm only halfway into it, I feel like my life is forever changed already.
Tsh has taught me (and my small family):

1. To create a purpose statement.  I'll share ours another day, but the more amazing thing than having it written down was the act of talking it out.  We are pretty good communicators, but being so intentional was awesome for us.

2. To give myself achievable daily goals.  I'm one to sit down in the morning and make a list of all that needs to be done... ever.  And then, when I'm done with the ten million pages, I'm so worn out that I go eat chocolate and watch the Backyardigans.  You think I'm kidding?  I'm so serious.
Instead, smaller lists with more realistic goals are much more helpful...

I think any young mom or wife who manages (or attempts to manage) her household should pick this book up.  It's not just a how-to book (which, if you know me, I hate reading), but it is an inspiration to examine your life, your motives for your family, and your goals, letting your discoveries fuel your kind of home organization.  No pressure, really, just encouragement.

This is my shameless push for reading this book.  Do it.

Milestones

Our little Liam has hit all of his milestones with flying colors, and quickly.  Sometimes, it feels all to fast for this mommy.  While I'm trying to extract every part of his sweet babyhood, in first-born fashion, he's racing ahead before I'm ready for it.

There's one milestone, though, that I wouldn't give up for the world: his personality.

We keep a bib on him most times because he drools rivers down his chin, 

especially when he's trying to tell us something.

He doesn't like staying put, and I'm pretty sure he's super jealous of all of his crawler friends.

Liam's feet are a main attraction at the Rogers household these days.

And not just for Baby.  I (not-so-secretly) love them, too.

I'm not sure how often he closes his mouth.  He's pretty much talking non-stop.

This is exactly the face he makes when I go into his room in the morning.

Grumpiness no longer exists in my world.

Real food... another milestone that makes me slightly weepy.

What a childhood we have ahead of us.  I would say I can't wait, but really, I'm pretty happy with right where he is.  I can wait.  Today is exactly what I want to spend kissing little cheeks, wiping away little tears (among other things), and smiling back at the little boy who has a tight grip on our heart.

Change is Good

If you are a regular reader of my lately irregularly updated blog, you will notice that I've made some changes around these parts, and they're pretty big.

Drumroll...
After two and a half years of writing under the "Bon Mot" header, I have decided to move in a new direction, and have changed my title to:

It's been a long time coming, actually.  I've always aspired to be as chic and clever as the French title I had ascribed to my blog.  I've tried, I really have, and, thankfully, I've failed.

About a year ago,  I was in the throes (and still am, in many ways) of figuring out how to be a big dreamer who lives the day-to-day life in peace and contentment.  I wrote a coupling of posts sharing the title "The Journey" (click to read: Part 1 & Part 2).  I tried to articulate that I desperately needed to find the balance between knowing the dreams God had placed in my heart and living for the day when those dreams would come to pass.  I had to figure out how to live through the now, the stuff that makes up real life.

I've worked (in real life) to be the me that blooms where I'm planted and carries her dreams as gifts, not burdens.  In real life, I've become more thankful for the moments that carry us to wherever we'll end up.

My blog just took a little while to catch up to the new me, but it's here now, and I'm so very excited to see where it goes.  The new title, if you didn't catch it, is "One Momentous Life," with a focus on the word "moment."  My cheesy English nerd self loves the idea that the moments make up the stuff of our lives that we may one day look back and see as momentous.  I'm beginning to realize that in rushing away the moments of life, the nitty-gritty of the processes we're working through, we miss so much.  


So, welcome, friend.  I'm a little more comfortable here, and I hope you will be too.

JUST One Week

Billy was gone to NYC for a week with a group from our church a couple of weeks ago.  He left on a Thursday and came home on a Thursday, so he was only there for one week.

It was the longest week of my life, but I learned lots about myself that I didn't know before.

Self-Discoveries:

1.  Taking care of Liam by myself was in no way a burden.  I appreciate all that Billy does help with, but I never felt as if I didn't have enough to give as a mom.  It's amazing to see the grace that God supplies us with as parents to make sure that our children are taken care of.  Parenting is definitely a partnership, but the week alone gave me more confidence that God has equipped me to take care of my children in any situation.

2.  I can be frugal.  I hardly ate out at all.  I truly recognized how much of a social thing eating out is, and when I made my meals quickly and quietly because of my lonesome state, I didn't even consider going to pick up food.  I just ate what I had.

3.  I am quite pathetic emotionally without Billy around.  I expected to be fine until later in the week, but I'm pretty sure I cried buckets the first night without him.  If you know us, you know we're pretty cheesy when we talk about love.  Well, I just proved our cheesiness to the maximum by being slightly depressed when he was gone.

4.  My husband is such a MAN.  I didn't realize the huge amount of security, strength, and stability that he provides for our family just by being present.  

5.  I have great respect for military wives.  I don't know how they do it.  Again, I know that God provides the strength we need for what comes along, but being alone when you're used to having your husband is incredibly difficult, even if just emotionally.  Those women truly are unsung heroes (or heroines).

I adore my husband.  There is nothing better than beginning and ending each day with that man.

Identity Crisis

All over the internet, I read bloggers giving advice that to be an effective blogger, you must "know your niche" in blogging.  Know your audience, know your subject matter.

This is something I have struggled and struggled with.

What if my goal is simply to write what is on my heart?  What if sometimes, I feel like I want to share something that made me giggle, and the next moment, I want to share something that made me sob?  Am I not trying hard enough to be specific?  Will anyone be interested?

I guess, dear audience, that I would hope to identify you as I try to identify my blogger (and non-blogger) self.  A real, raw person who gets from one day to the next by simply living.  A person that, amidst all of that life-living, also seeks out moments of intensity, moments of purpose, moments that make the heart beat life into places forgotten.  I hope you are a person that dreams big dreams with big hopes while folding laundry one minute and putting the dishes aside to read a book the next.  I am guessing that you want to change the world somehow, yet you feel insignificant and busy and but still somehow hopeful.

If you are anything like me, you are looking for people to identify with.  Words to connect with.  Confirmation that being very real is what life is about, and that these moments are beautiful and messy and we all have them.  

I know that God is not mistaken, and that this mess of me and my blog and my heart may not fit inside of a box, of a subject matter.  And I have to believe that there is an audience that doesn't fit inside any of those things, either.