Christmas Card, Every Day

We all do it, don't we? Post our best moments, our cutest kid pics, our biggest triumphs on social media. I am certainly included. And - wow - looking back over the past five (plus) years, I do a LOT of it. A friend once said it is like receiving all of your friends' Christmas letters, every day.

But what if you are not having an oh-so happy season of life? In those times, social media can leave you feeling very lonely. Like the only one who doesn't have it all together. Like the only one who doesn't have a perfect family. Marriage. Life.

It is important to remember in those times that we (everybody else) are not out there displaying our heartache for all to see. For example, take this series of photos from my wall last fall:

I love this picture, our first UGA football game of the season. Who knew we were pregnant? Certainly not we!

A month later, who knew we found out the day before this picture that we had a sac, but no baby? Certainly not you!

Oh, perfect little family outing to visit Santa. Did you know, I was (finally) in the midst of the miscarriage? Man, it felt like it went on forever.

Here I am, finally cleared by the doctor the weekend before Christmas.

Now, my point here is not to share about our miscarriage; it is to let you know that you are not alone. When you see everyone else's post after post or picture after picture of happy life, it is not always the whole story. We are all just living life. And it is hard. But you are not alone.

You will also notice I am cutting back on the Facebook pictures this year - it's my New Year's resolution. More time for real life.

The Fair Comes to Missy Dr

I had been feeling sad for sweet KW that Little Man had such a fun ride around the back yard a few years back when the Mid-South Fair came to Chester Ave. But, she recently got her chance. You can take the mom away from the fair, but you can't take the fair out of the mom!

One New Bloom

"There is not a pretty red ribbon around it, but there's hope."

- Louie Giglio

Hope. It is an interesting thing, isn't it? It doesn't matter what the facts are. How dire. How definitive. How final. There is something in the human heart that refuses to believe. Demands a hold onto that little bit of...hope. Only when faced with an end will the heart finally relinquish its hold on the possibility of a miracle. And, even then, we begin to hope for something else. Something beyond the current circumstance.

There is a hydrangea outside my bedroom window. The summer rains came this year and over-watered the bush, leaving all the flowers dry and brittle. This surprised me; isn't rain supposed to add life and color to a plant? Instead, this plant held dead, lifeless blooms until about a month ago. One morning, I noticed new, green growth. The hint of a bloom. It was already October. I guess no one told this plant that the cold was arriving any day. It didn't care; it saw an opportunity to blossom, and it took it. Every morning when I open my shade, I have watched that bloom grow until it has turned into a bright blue bunch of beautiful tiny leaves. In a season of death for our family, it reminds me that there is always new life. There is always hope. Hope may come in tiny bits, but it always creates something beautiful.

After a cold snap this weekend, I wondered what I would see when I looked out the window Saturday morning. The bloom was still there, and just below it, a new, green bloom, just starting out. There is always hope.

Five Things I Learned on Weight Watchers

Last winter, I joined Weight Watchers for their three-month post-holiday deal. I had trouble getting the weight off after KW, and my cholesterol was going up year over year. There were five habits that became apparent to me during my journey, and I have found that whether I gain or lose since then depends largely on whether or not I am following these five "rules" I made for myself. Maybe they can help you, too!

1. Only eat fruit in the volunteer room. This likely applies to few other people, but we have a volunteer room at church. With Bagels. And cream cheese. And muffins. And M&Ms. And grapes. And coffee. And soft drinks. And juice. It is pretty obvious where this rule came from.

2. Don't eat the kids' leftovers. Somebody actually warned me about this one when Little Man was a baby. If the kids did not eat their dinner, no matter how good I thought it was, my eating it is not going to prevent it from being wasted. If the nutrients did not go in their bodies, then the purpose for which I served it is already blown. Adding those calories to my daily count is not going to help.

3. Don't take seconds. Should be obvious, but I usually want more.

4. Eat an apple while making dinner. I am usually pretty hungry by the end of the afternoon. And if rest time has not been so restful around my house, it is easy for me to pick something to munch on while I cook that completely renders my need for dinner null and void. It takes a long time to eat an apple the old fashioned way and cook at the same time. Plus, an apple a day is a good, natural way to help lower your cholesterol. Double bonus.

5. Don't eat out of obligation. I learned this ol' trick from Ernie Harris. If it is in the refrigerator, it must be eaten. I must help clean off the counter - by eating the contents off of it. Especially when it comes to desserts, I have NO obligation to finish the second half of the pie that was left at our house after a dinner party, even if it takes me four days to do it. And I really don't need to eat something I don't love, just so it doesn't get thrown away.

From Scratch

When Little Man turned one, I planned to make every birthday cake from scratch, forever. After thirty-six hours, the cake was a brick, and I knew it had already been pretty dense at party time. So, I decided to use box mixes and to really put some effort into getting my baking technique down before making another birthday cake. This summer was the time. I only made two cakes, but the second was noticeably lighter than the first. This weekend, I will make my third. I have high hopes.