Merry, Merry

We have nothing on our calendar today. This is the first day in I don't even know how long, that we have no where to be.

Somewhere around last Tuesday, I thought about waving the white flag. I was losing my cool with the kids on what seemed like an hourly cycle. The laundry was simply out of control. We have a new puppy, so just add a little of that into the mess. I felt like if one more person put a sugary treat in front of my kids, I may pummel them on the spot. Not to put too fine a point on it all, I was feeling a little like Owen Wilson is that movie Shanghai Knights, " I don't know karate, but I know crazy, and I will use it! ".

We had a full weekend planned, with family, and I so wanted to be happy about it, and yet the week just kept kicking me in the face, and I just kept thinking, don't let the crazy win.

Friday night, we have multiple obligations, and Josh and I were considering the divide and conquer method, but I just stared at it all and thought, I cannot do any of this alone, so in an act of solidarity, we tackled our first obligation together, and beauty won. Thank you Jesus. It turned it all around for me.

So we took the girls downtown to an ice skating birthday party. We found a pretty little spot right in front of the outdoor rink, and walked without pain, right to the meeting place. Not long after that, the music started playing, and little people everywhere were skating to Christmas music and  twinkling lights. I watched with my friend, and felt at peace, which I was not sure could be found.

We left a while later and I quickly got ready for the next party, with renewed hope that the earth was indeed a kind a place, sometimes.

I could go on and on, but the weekend was a lovely one, and the time with family was so good for my heart.

We went to Mass last evening, which always makes me a little nervous when we take family into our new church home. Becoming Catholic was never something I envisioned for my life. I don't have this strong urge to make people see how wonderful it is, in fact it's when I take people to church that I often get frustrated. Like, I know you do it same way every week, but a liturgy hand out would be nice. Do I sit, stand, skip to my lou? Sometimes just figuring out the dance can be so distracting, and so I share that burden with my guests. And yet, there I am, sitting my little pew, and at peace. I confess my sins.


I confess to almighty God
and to you, my brothers and sisters,
that I have greatly sinned
in my thoughts and in my words,
in what I have done,
and in what I have failed to do;
through my fault, through my fault,
through my most grievous fault;
therefore I ask blessed Mary ever-Virgin,
all the Angels and Saints,
and you, my brothers and sisters,
to pray for me to the Lord our God.

Or when we take the Eucharist:
 "Lord, I am not worthy that you should enter under my roof, but only say the words, and my soul shall be healed".

I am a mess. My sins are always before me. I want people to act right, and I want that for myself. I want to be kind, gracious, a light on a hill. But I am the constant speck gazer, looking for your trouble spot, without realizing the log that has all but blinded me.

I don't know how to wake up in the morning, but for grace. I think of all the ways grace is offered to me every moment of the day. The fact that my kids still ask for my kiss, even when the face of anger is all they have seen in a day. So much grace. How easily I judge, and yet friends and family show up anyway, and share bread and wine and even laughter.

It's such a holy mess.

I am undone by the grace all around, and I so want to hide from it sometimes, because it can be humiliating to receive it when you know how wretched your heart can be.

So there's that.

We made it through Advent.

Merry, Merry Christmas.

Advent musings

*** post written last week

Oh Advent. Oh, somebody else writing about how they are going to do Christmas "right". Over the years, I have scoured the internets looking for wisdom, something, manna from heaven. Anything that would help our little family participate in Christmas without feeling like a#%holes (to quote my husband).

Because I am a planner, not at all, I started thinking about this around last Thursday night after the Turkey. I was already feeling the choke hold of this "giving" season, and the panic was setting in. And then something just clicked.

Do what you can, when you can. Don't ask permission. And Slow it way down.

I was watching a "vlog" the other day, a fellow blogger who so happens to be Catholic. She was telling  us a little about herself, and I was struck by her confidence. Not, "I have this all figured out" kind of confidence, but rather, "We feel really good about how our family does things, it works for us, and we are content in that".

Ah contentment. Something in my DNA just wants something to be always be right or wrong, and yet I am rarely inspired or moved towards love when someone else behaves this way. I AM moved towards love and acceptance when I see someone content in their life, their decisions, and their ability to graciously live out those choices with others.

All that to say, we've been taking it slow. We ate by candle light last night as Josh has been reading our Advent scripture, retelling the story of redemption. We ate eggs and toast with jam. I will remember that night for a long time.

We bought a nativity, and the girls played for hours yesterday, with all kinds of theatrics. It was beautiful.

I have put two velvet ribbons on wreaths, and today we will probably buy a small Christmas tree.

We are going to celebrate the feast of St. Nicholas with candy and the Feast of St. Lucy with lights. I am sure we will visit Santa and I am sure we will have days and nights where we pretty much don't think about any of it and are happy to get in the bed with a heart that is weary and thankful that the day is done.

Oh Monday.

Monday started off right, with two cups of perfect coffee and some indoor time with the littlest. I then got to talk to my high school bestie for who knows how long and don't care, because it was great. The irony that I went to a lecture this weekend on "screen time", yeah, well Millie  banked all of hers for a couple of weeks. Oh well.

She also colored the rug with "washable" green marker. She is coloring everything lately. walls, hands, feet, chairs, tables. ugh.

me, not winning.

Monday starting sitting heavy on me, too. The usual discontents. The usual unknowns.

The longing to not be a nurse for a season, and then pouring over your finances and just not seeing how it could ever work.

The opportunities are slowly showing up in the realm of possibility, but nothing is too for sure yet, so I am stuck in the waiting place, looking for the writing on the wall, in the sky, my coffee cup. I am not picky about its place. I just want to know.

A season of prayer and waiting seems like a good place to land.

yes?

hello little long lost blog.

oh my. I took a big long break. I have been writing a bit elsewhere. I needed some space to work some things out, but I have missed this little place. So what's been happening? September kind of ambushed us and we pretty much haven't stopped until this week, when the polar vortex or whatever the heck they are calling it this week, hung its solemn hat on our doorstep.

I am not made for this kind of weather. I become bear like with slow movements, conserving every bit of warmth, kindness, and sanity that I can muster up.

But anyway.

I've come to understand myself in a new way these past two months.  I realize that I read, experience some spiritual renewal, and then I ride that wave for a month or two, until one day I wake up and the Facebook scrolling and binge Netflix watching rears its ugly head and I feel this deep need to breath real deep and take long, fast walks, grab that boogie board, and jump back on the wave. Life and its perspectives are always shifting, but as my "friend" Anne Lamott says, Grace always bats lasts.

Thank you Jesus.

All that to say, Here I am again! I know the internets are sharing a collective sigh of relief. not so much.

Sooo, general life update.

The girls, getting so big and and so fun to talk to. We've hit this easy-ish stride where everyone can speak in sentences and follow instructions. Annie is taking piano and Amelia thinks she is hot to trot in her little preschool class. There is still lots of whining and general exhaustion all the time, but we are having more fun than not, and well, it's all a big giant blessing.

We are still Catholic! We have finally settled into a parish and I feel more and more home. I have found real peace in the Catholic Church and much love. I hope to write more about that in the coming months. It feels so wonderful to have both of our children in Mass and for their squirminess and coloring books to be genuinely welcomed. We sat right up front this week, and Annie was humming the entire liturgy. I loved that.

Ok, I sense the yawning on the other end. I missed y'all! Happy Friday. Happy Fall.

Much love from T U L S A!
Brooke

It's all yours for the taking

Vacation is really not a thing when you have young children. In our case, we keep rotating the environments, they are all peaceful or fun or a little of both- but it still carries with it the usual responsibilities, melt downs, and lack of sleep that life offers up in heaps during this season of life.

We moved to the southwest over 5 years ago, and this is our time. really, my time, to travel down South and reacquaint myself with the beautiful faces of my family.

It's the time, when my little girls put their feet on the soil of my own childhood. They look up and see the tall pines, the lazy rivers. The wide open Atlantic. Sea shells. Walks with sand in their toes. Salt caked in their skin. Fried fish and homemade peach ice cream. Fireworks. My people.

Traveling home, for me, however, often feels like traveling back in time. My growth feels stunted. I stand in the grocery store of my youth, and feel awkwardly 16 again. I imagine life then. It was starting to get complicated. Those memories are not the best ones. I have grown less afraid of sadness in my life, but there is some sadness, the kind that creeps up in childhood grocery isles, that feel best left on the shelf.

I am picking up contact solution, but I can't shake the past.  I pick it up anyway, as if its for old times sake.

Every isle, a ghost of some sort.

I venture towards the baked beans and think some pre vacation therapy may be in order next year.

What's hard to explain is that it's all background noise. The present is a good one. The music is playing, the kids are happy and really its all very magical. They will remember these vacations. And there is redemption being played on the stage right before my eyes.

but the background noise, well, sometimes I just can't shake it.

I make it to the car. Take one of those deep sighs. Dr. Calhoun always said those were prayers.

I have been praying that prayer my entire life.

My daughter Millie prays it too.

In her deep 3 year old frustration, she often lets out a deep sigh.

We pass it all down, the good and the sad.

I wind my way back through the sleepy Georgia roads. Open the door.

The music is playing, kids are drinking juice boxes, and my sister is playing beach paddle ball on concrete.

I have been going about life so hard and strong, I have forgotten what it was like to reflect on much of anything, and the fact that my reflection has showed up some of my deepest wounds feels like betrayal.

Why, self, now? Can we not mosey down this road on vacation?

But it's echoes are all around me.

And they want to be healed.

Life is like this. It ambushes you on Friday morning and begs for more.

It says, this is good. but it can be better.

It says you are loved, but you can love better.

It says life is fast, and short, and long, and infuriating, and beautiful, and sometimes, even perfect.

It says those ghosts are talking but they aren't real anymore.

It says walk out of the grocery store and back to  your family.

And then thank God it's all yours for the taking.

Summer!

It's Summer! We've been taking it REAL slow this week. I say that,  I was busy on the front end with work, work, work, but other than that, we really haven't left the house. We've been playing outside and napping and generally not cleaning very much.

I have finally learned that sending my children to their room is the only discipline that works, so I have been doing that a lot with the kicking and screaming ensues. Thankfully it seems to alternate between the two and a quick 5 minutes of getting all that frustratin' out seems to do the trick.

I have also resorted to snacks being peanut butter on a spoon (which my kids think is AWESOME). So that makes me awesome right?

This week I spoke with a young girl who is about to start Samford in the Fall (my alma mater). I was so excited talking to her and when I told her we didn't have a/c in our freshman dorm she looked at me like I studied by candlelight as well. I then had to take a deep breath when I realized that a.) I started college 20 years ago and b.) SHE WAS NOT BORN.

cue, midlife crisis.

In all seriousness, it was a heart heavy week, too.

One of Annie's little classmates lost her Daddy in a sudden accident. There doesn't seem anything more unjust than a little girl losing her daddy. I have been so heart broken over it, the kind that just takes your breath away. I resort to all of the psalms heart cries. why, why and more why? how long, o lord. have mercy.

None of that relieves the sadness, which is really nothing compared to their own sadness.

The only answer I have is to be present in my own life. to pray for them.

I am also losing my sweet neighbors. I am living in certain denial over this. These were the best neighbors, the kind that feel like family. We're enjoying our lazy afternoons with them as they have showing after showing.

For the record, every dear friend I have met in this town moves to Texas, This is #3!!!! I have got one covering the border towns, one in dfw area, and now this one moving to the Texas Hill Country. We almost have the state covered, so NO MORE FRIENDS MOVING.

Well, that's about it. Week 1 of Summer under our belt.

Happy Friday:)

quiet

it's very quiet right now which makes me think my chilrin are up to no good. I am not done with my coffee and Dora is here to babysit, so it's all good. That Dora, teaching my kids to be bilingual.  How can I ever thank her?

So, it may be too soon to write about this, but I break enough rules on a daily basis anyway, so what the heck.

One of the more beautiful and challenging things we have thought through since becoming Catholic has been the theology of life. family. and children. This is all woven together, but you get my drift. I know, eyes rolling as you imagine the Duggers, with all 19? 20? Who knows how many children. That's a lot. I am too old for all that, but anyway…

So the happy news is that I was pregnant, and then the sad news is that I wasn't. Yes, we had a early miscarriage over the weekend. Yes, it was sad. And yes, I am doing ok.

We had decided in early January that we would trust God and be open to expanding our family. If you have been on my journey at all,  as in the puking for 9 months journeys with both of my girls, you know this decision was made in much trepidation. If you've been on this blog for a LONG time, you also know about the 3 years we cried out for a baby.

God gave us these beautiful girls. And the chapter just didn't seem to be closed.

As we made the decision, I felt my heart become at peace. This happens, not all the time, but often, when we give our trust to God and not ourselves.

And then the test was positive, several months later. I was scared. happy. really scared.

And then sad.

There are so many questions? You open your heart, and then it gets filled with a difficult burden.

You open your heart to life, but only to lose it?

These things are a mystery, but like all suffering, it also makes me closer to Christ. Our suffering is never alone in the Cross. It is always shared.

So that's it. I feel at peace. I am reasonably sad, and then life carries on. We all hold hands together.

I really love this little blog that I found, and I think you might like this video. Enjoy!
(disclaimer- this is not  anti- protestant propaganda. you may disagree with some things she says. that's ok. let's all be friends:)

dear spring

Hello out there! This is me today. My school girl. My coffee. Millie is somewhere peeing on the floor, because, well potty training aint really her thang. I keep thinking she will eventually tire of it. I have completely quit caring, which seems to mostly be working- or not.

Let's see, I went down to working one night a week instead of two, which has been amazing, except for the pay check. This has turned out to be highly motivating for my photography business. I have decided to go for it for real, one last time. I also started a wedding business with a friend, and we are getting business, but these things are slow going, and I am just trusting that the hard work will pay off eventually. I am taking things like marketing courses and learning about SEO. This all makes my head explode, but the creative pay off is worth it. I hope anyways.

I was able go to Mass all by myself this past Sunday, and this fabulous priest was visiting. When I went to mass, I was able to kneel for once without Annie licking the pews (yes, this happens) and I found myself praying- jesus. make me better. make me better for my kids. make be better for josh. for all of humanity, just make me better.

Then priest preached on woman at the well. 

and living water.

and giving people dignity.

and I thought about the little lady I sat with a few nights earlier at work. A woman in her 60's who had lost her mental game from a stroke. I spent most of the night telling her there was no cat in the room, and no peanut butter crackers in her bed. Then she would have these moments as I was watching "island hunters" on hgtv, and she would be like "must be nice", and I was like, "yep". At one point she looked at me and said, "this is not good." And I knew what she meant. This woman, this really young woman by all accounts, was basically in mental limbo, and a shadow of her old self. And I was sad.

jesus, make me better.

And then the offering came, and the choir sang "Give me Jesus", and I thought this might have been a better prayer. and then I thought, maybe this was the answer to my prayer.

I guess it doesn't really matter, because Jesus met me there.

Millie turns 3!

I was in a state of shock for the first year of Annie's life, with Millie I caved early, melted into a puddle, and decided not to fight it.

It's been such a joy to watch our little Millie come out of her shell this year. She speaks so well that sometimes I forgot she was only 2! She speaks with a little lisp, and sings night and day about the fact that "SHE IS THE PRINCESS". In other words, we best not forget it.

Amelia loves her "fings".  That is, her lovies, her blankies, her dolls. She wants them all, right next to her. She is a sweet balance of baby and independence. She wants to be in charge, but she still wants you to get her out of the bed. I am ok with that.

She's not potty trained, and that is entirely my fault. I have a million excuses, none that are good. We'll get there.

I kept Millie home this year, so we've spent many a day tromping throughout Tulsa. She's been my little side kick, and it's been good for us.

With that said, HELLLOOO Mom's day out. Yes, We'll be seeing you next Fall.

I've really enjoyed seeing Millie and Annie form a friendship. Millie always asks about Annie throughout the day, and I feel so thankful they have each other.

Sisters are the best.

It is strange to feel so connected to these little beings, and yet they still remain kind of a mystery.

Millie seems to be athletically inclined, but she loves to dance. Where will this life take her and her talents?

These are the kind of things that weigh on my heart. Will I be in tune enough to her gifts to encourage them and help her (and Annie) pursue them? So much of life seems to be about finding our way-  I just want to be the best advocate for my girls that I can be.

So there you go. She's three.

a little link...

One day, when my thoughts are little more processed, I will write a nice long blog entry about my journey to the Catholic church.

BUT, until then, This lovely soul has written something so close to my own experience, I thought I would share.

I am not trying to convert NOBODY. Let's just be clear about that, but I find myself often just wanting to explain, but it always feels like too much or not enough.

So, until then, I shall ride on the more articulate wings of women I have stumbled upon.

Link here:

"I did not move toward Catholicism from a place of certainty. I moved from a place of desire. And I did not walk steadily toward it. I took a flailing, reckless leap." 

Remember your words

It took 5 years,  but I had my first "girls" weekend with some local friends. Ironically, all but one have moved to Texas, but it was such a gift to spend time with these women. Friendships are like a long, winding road, sometimes filled with hours of conversation, and sometimes filled with silence. This past weekend we talked for hours, drank lots of coffee, shopped, ate some more, laughed and cried. These kind of friendships have sustained me my entire life, and I would be lost without this beautiful gift. Thank you JESUS, in every way, for this gift. Seriously.

People talk about their favorite things. Friendship is probably my most favorite. I would take one of the these weekends every year over the most exotic vacation. It is that life giving.

When I moved to Tulsa, one of the things I told myself was that every place I have lived, I have met someone I could not imagine not knowing.

I had my doubts about Tulsa, but those words have proven true.

Annie's heart

Millie fell asleep today, and Annie would not leave her side. She said, "I will watch over her until she wakes up." I adore moments when I capture someone, anyone, in their glory. Annie is that kind of person, she will TAKE CARE OF YOU. She's a sinner, too. I deal with that every day, just like every other human. That is the thing we always fight against. That is thing that exhausts me, makes me sad. But then, you have this moment and all the rest of the hard moments fly away, and you see, really see someone the way God made them. So beautiful and so thankful God gives us these windows- ones that are so often dim, become so clear. God makes beautiful things.

Alopecia and Annie

I don't write too terribly much about Annie's Alopecia. My father told me early on to treat it at normal as we could, and I intuitively wanted to do the same thing, and for the most part,  we have. It's been a silent grieving, never wanting to make Annie feel like her Alopecia made us sad. There will be time for this, when Annie does her own grieving. We will not be afraid to share that with her, but for now, we share in the joy that is Annie. The most cheerful spirit I have ever met.

But with this joy, comes the incredible challenge that I share with all mommas trying to raise their little girls, and that is the issue of identity and beauty and how to make that a healthy relationship. 

We made the decision this year to get Annie her first custom hair piece. I wasn't sure if she would wear it, want to wear it, etc, but I felt certain I wanted her to have the choice. This has been a complicated choice, as the megaphone message in the alopecia world is that "bald is beautiful" or "You are beautiful  just the way you are". Is this not the message we try to teach all of our little people? Is this not the truth we try and preach to ourselves? 

And yet, for arguments sake.

God made my hair darker than it is, and now greying. I color it, not because I find my value in highlights, but I happen to like my hair a little lighter.

We don't look at a child, say, which a missing leg or hand, and prohibit a prosthetic. We thank SCIENCE! We thank God things like this exist. These kids get a chance to push back brokenness. They get a chance to WALK. to WRITE. 

Say what you will, but we all want a little bit of normal.

Our choice to get Annie a hairpiece was not a desire to cover up her sweet little bald head. It was an effort to give Annie the gift  of a little bit of normal.

I picked up Annie from school the other day, and she was laughing with her friend. They had the same bow, and ever since, Annie has been begging me to braid her "hair". I get to do that now, and it brings us both joy. We are also at the age where kids are mean. This is somewhat protected at her school, but it is not in the big bad world. Annie has gotten picked on at our gym, when a little boy repeatedly told her she was a boy because she was bald. The hair piece has given her some armor. She doesn't always need her armor, but it's hers if she wants it.

Annie is beautiful. But not because she is bald. Bald does not make her beautiful. God makes her beautiful. She may decide one day that wigs are not for her, or she may thank God every day that such things exist. We navigate those choices now, because she is a young child, but she we eventually make her own.

I know, not a super exciting post, but it was on my mind...