The Blessings of a Crazy Life.

These past few months I have just been feeling so....scattered? Maybe.
Spread thin?
Lost?

Or just all of the above.

I keep this blog because I love to write.
But It's more than that: I need  to write. Whether it's my journal, a pseudo-secret blog on the internet, or a page ripped from a notebook...I need to be able to describe my world and my life. It's how I make sense of it. Even in my head, I only get so far before I have to empty it....sort it all out into words and phrases and expressions...rearrange it. Once I've "had it out" with my thoughts...and they've fought to fit into the right words...the finished product seems to squeeze back into my head so much easier.

Writing is my mental de-cluttering process.

But sometimes I can't write about something until I'm coming at it from the right perspective...until it's had a little time to simmer and settle. And such has been the case with my life these past six months or so. I've sat down and started to write about what is on my mind so SO many times...only to get frustrated that I can't sort it all out yet.

It has tried to take the shape of a post about being a loyal and supportive wife. It would start out with explaining how D-Hubby has finally chosen a career as a photographer. I would walk you through my journey, emotionally. I would want to tell you how excited I am that he's found something he loves...something that we love to do together...something that is creative and fulfilling. How I'm so proud of him. But I would also have to tell you my hesitations...my fears...knowing that this is something that will not ever likely make us financially wealthy...and will never have the kind of job security I expected my husband to have. I would have to explain how being self-employed makes me a little nervous...and excited!...and nervous. And I would have to admit how I wished I wasn't so conflicted sometimes...that I just always had the faith I should.

And then it I would try to cram everything into a post about just enjoying the little moments...the little things...because sometimes I would be so overwhelmed, I would forget. I would forget that life is not about visible accomplishments. I would write about how frustrated I was with a house that I never seem to be able to "stay on top of" because of my kids... and how I felt like I was doing it all alone...and then I would share the realization that my kids ARE my work...that when I forget that, I forget the five thousand reasons I have to be grateful and joyful every day. I would be able to bring myself to that moment of truth most completely by writing it all out.

IF I could just get it all out, that is.

Then I would save the draft. Then come back days, weeks later to try again.

For the what feels like bajillionth time I tried to sort out my life in words...I couldn't make it work. I still can't.

And even now, I want to write about how I'm feeling about working between 5-9 hours every day at a job other than my full-time one as a cook, housekeeper, family accountant, bookkeeper for family business, church primary leader, teacher, nurse, blah blah, student's wife and mother of two very busy toddlers. I think maybe it's the Lord's way of teaching me what things are really important...because there's not time for anything else at the moment. At the moment I'm blogging instead of showering. That's where I'm at, folks. Learning my lesson well, you see.

I had a friend make fun of me yesterday when I tried to express the struggle it's been to go back to work. I think maybe she thought I was whining. Maybe I was. Actually....I was. It doesn't nullify my need to talk about it, though...to write about it. I wish I could write it all out in a way that lays it bare, that makes the reader a perfect judge and helps the reader make a little more sense of herself.

But I can't. Not at the moment. I just can't seem to explain the ways my life, currently, is crazy and wonderful and so hard and so blessed all at the same time

The one thing I know, though, is that no matter how busy my life gets...by choice or necessity...I can't do it by myself. I can only do all I can. And no matter who's judging or watching or assuming or laughing or criticizing (most likely all in my head, anyways, of course) that I just keep doing the best that I can. I can't even tell you how many times I have been lifted and sustained by the love of my Father in Heaven over these past crazy months. There have been miracles, small and large...and whispers of encouragement in the most discouraging circumstances.

I know that, even through the fog, that He gives me things to hold onto...that even when I can't sort it out yet, or get a grasp on what-the-heck-is-going-on-anyway...when I can't put it into words or keep it straight...that I can take His hand and stay grounded. That, no matter what, He is there.

And I know that this insanity won't last forever. And if all it teaches me is how to press forward, steadfastly...and to understand what really is most important...then I suppose that I am entirely okay with that.

Maybe I should go shower...

Fairytales.

There have been lots of happy, busy things going on around here.

Like moving, and staring tutoring part-time in the evenings, and performing and finishing Cinderella, and getting a wisdom tooth pulled as an emergency procedure right in the middle of moving. Believe me, after the ache, that last one still lands in the "happy things happening" category. Just maybe not the cost part; it's the first year I haven't opted into D-Hubby's student health coverage...we figured there would be no problems this year, just like the other years. Oh boy, we were wrong.

Anyways. Happy, busy things! Right.

One of the happy, busy things I've had the opportunity to do in the past month or two was take engagement pictures for a dear friend from my Hometown and her fiance...who also happens to be from my hometown! They were friends, grew up together. She moved away, got married, had a baby. Her lame-o hubby bailed. And then her Prince Charming returned...ready to sweep her off her feet and treat her and her daughter the way they should have been treated all along.

And they lived Happily Ever After.
(sigh.)

I wanted to share a little of their session. One, because they have a great story. Two, because I really like them and how their pictures turned out. It makes me feel like I'm learning a little something, getting a little better. D-Hubby is taking their wedding photos, he's the real pro. Hopefully these prove he's rubbing off on me a little. Maybe? Maybe.

P.S. There's tons. And I was too lazy to put any side-by-side....so you get them ALL one-by-one, full-size. Haaaa.

Scraps.

The results from a week of getting up early, before my kids:
AWESOME. Seriously. I didn't spend my whole day feeling like I'd forgotten something, and didn't live my days in a state of constant re-action...my days were started with a sense of proaction...and it snowballed. I lost it after that week when Baby-M started teething again and was waking up in the night. But it's definitely worth going back to.

Also:

A radio station I've been listening to lately features a certain "year" of music every weekend.
This weekend was 1998.

OH. MY. GOODNESS.

Talk about throw-back.
Wowza.
Madonna's Ray of Light? Brandy's The Boy is Mine? GHETTO SUPERSTAR!!??? Oh, man. I've been in a giant bubble of nostalgia. Almost enough to propel me into another "Music Days" series where I go on and on about the memories attached to each and every musical gem.
But I won't.
I will restrain myself.

Anyways.

I just got back from a rehearsal of Cinderella. I could write a whole post on how much I have loved and loved and loved it....and how much of a struggle it's been to be away from my babies so much in such a short amount of time. But maybe I'll show some restraint there as well....for now, anyways. At least until I have something more interesting to say about it other than I miss my kids.

That is all. Good night.

I Sympathize.

Someone once told me the difference between sympathy and empathy. I don't know if they were "right" or not...but it's stuck with me.
Sympathy is the ability to feel compassion and understanding for someone because you've been in the same situation, experienced the same thing they have. Empathy is the ability to feel compassion and understanding for someone because you can put yourself in their shoes; you may not have experienced the exact same thing they have, but you can see things from their perspective.

D-Hubby is a film photographer. I shoot digital, because even though I was raised on film, I've learned to fear the stuff. It's so intimidating now!

And yet, I've been curious. This past weekend, D-Hubby let me use his camera and an old roll of expired film to play with on a family outing to the mountains. I kept looking at the back of the camera after every shot...and felt silly every time. I thought about each picture, and waited for the right moments. And I was itching to get them developed and see how they actually turned out. I felt like I was fourteen all over again.

I thoroughly enjoyed it. It was an exercise in delayed gratification and patience. And a fun surprise to get the negatives back and watch as family moments---literally, caught on film---lit up the computer screen as the scanner worked away. I liked the messy texture, the grain and the weird contrasts. And maybe I just liked them because I had to, because all those imperfections weren't expecting some Photoshop botox and a trendy heavy-editing outfit. They were just were what they were: Real and Refreshing.

Anyways. I guess all I'm saying is that I get it, Hubby. I get it a little better than I did before. Don't take my digital away from me...but I'll definitely be trading it up every now and then. Just for fun, y'know.

A few tender, grainy moments from the day.

May I point out my Dad rewarding my mom a big victory hug for trekking it all the way up the mountain? Love, baby.

For anyone who cares: shot on a Canon Elan7, on FujiFilm Superia 200. The film is originally colour, but I desaturated them into black-and-whites for this post. The end.