Heading Home

Nashville is a wonderful place. I love living here. But do you know what Nashville is missing? Family.

It's been over a year since Dave and I have gone back to Missouri together. That is TOO LONG. Thankfully, our families have visited here, so we haven't gone completely without. In 24 days we're FINALLY going back for a visit. It's going to be a too-short visit, but some is better than none. Talking to my sister the other day, I told her I'm so excited about going home that I feel like I should make a paper chain to count down the days like we used to do for Christmas. She said, "DO IT!" and that's all the motivation I needed. 26 days, guys. Not only will this be the first time Dave has been home in over a year (or the first time I've been home in almost a year), but my brother and his wife are moving back to Missouri in just a couple of days - so the ENTIRE FAMILY will be together in Camdenton for the first time since Christmas '09. Crazy. We're going to try to relax, have lunch with some old friends, take a small family trip to visit my grandparents, eat my very favorite pizza of all time, sit and talk, play games, and celebrate Easter at worship on the Lake. Trips home to visit the family are never ever long enough.

Good Things Come

Things I've been waiting for that are finally happening:

I rotated my fall/winter albums out and filled my cd-holder with spring music.

I had frozen yogurt last night.

The sun is out in the morning when I wake up and in the evening when I get home.

The drive-in opens up this weekend.

My computer background is a floral picture again.

I'm wearing open toed shoes often.

My little sister is about to finish cosmetology school and is thinking about MOVING TO NASHVILLE OH MY GOODNESS OH MY GOODNESS.

Three and a half years ago, I moved to Nashville. 8-9 hours away from my family. Since that moment, I've been trying to talk my family into moving here. Subtly and not so subtly. Finally, one of them is considering it. And it's the Bean! In my head, this is the greatest thing ever. We are very very good friends. And I miss her dearly.

#13

I am forever shrinking in comparison to my two younger sisters' awesomeness. Their awesome is way up high and getting higher with things like, "is in a band" and "not afraid of motorcycles" and my awesome is teeny tiny somewhere under, "loves post-it notes" and "cannot whistle."

When they were visiting a couple of months ago, we had decided that we'd each get a tattoo of a locket somewhere on our selves with the two other sisters' initial inside. WELL, I was luckily saved by the tattoo shop we went into and I didn't have to publicly chicken out. Thank you tattoo shop for your ridiculous prices.

But awesome little sisters that they are, those two monkeys still want their locket tattoos. Emily, the youngest of all four kids in the family, just got her tattoo this week. Can you even believe that? Don't you remember her coming home from the hospital? Do you remember when she had all of her top 4 front teeth taken out and was the cutest little toothless thing until years later? Do you not recall all of that? Because I do. And the thought of that sweet little itty bit with her stick straight hair and her non-stop energy getting a TATTOO just makes me want to cry a little.

I mean... she IS grown up now. See?

But now she's even more grown up because she has a TATTOO.

I sketched out some ideas for the three of us while they were here. Different locket shapes and letter styles and level of detail, etc. I figured we'd kind of combine aspects of them and each pick whichever one suited our fancy the most. Emily is a traditional, simplistic gal when it comes to design. Christina is very forward thinking and a bit edgy, and I'm somewhere noncategorial. Kind of bohemian and cutesy. Is it possible to be both of those things? Well, this is the design Emily chose.

Which means.... drumroll please.... that I designed a tattoo. I have permanent art in the universe. That's just very cool to me. So cool, in fact, that I put it on my Project Life List a while back as #13. So that's TWO things I've checked off the list now, friends.

Why I Call Him Superman

My husband is tired. He's had the most packed season of his career, having been working basically non-stop since early Spring and there's not really a break until November. (woot woot! beach vacation in November!) Which is great! Don't get me wrong; we love that he has work lined up. We really do love that. But he is tired.

He is also sore. Some days out at the studio, he and 'the fellas' will play baseball or throw a frisbee for a while. In the past couple of weeks during aforementioned game time at work, he has sliced and bruised his bicep by falling on a wire fence thing (funny story about this: when someone asked him how he cut his arm, he said, "I just made a muscle and it ripped open" which still really makes me laugh,) he's fallen and bruised or cracked a rib, he's been attacked by a swarm of bees and stung thrice, and who knows what else that he just hasn't been awake enough to tell me about.

And in his sweet, sore tiredness last night, he made me a light-box. Isn't that the sweetest thing?

Don't Mess with Texas

In 2 months, Dave and get on a plane and head to Victoria, Texas. My big brother, Steve, is getting married the weekend of Thanksgiving and we'll spend a full week on the beach with family.

This is Steve, and his beautiful fiancee, Trysta.

See that little "A" down there by that beautiful blue water? That's me. I'm the little "A" in November.

Thanksgiving can't get here soon enough.

The husband has been working crazy hours lately, and I've been stressing over work and well... everything else my brain sits on for more than 10 seconds. I'm tightly wound right now. Thankfully, this weekend was a great stress reliever - I got time at home with Dave and time out and about adventuring with him. Our adventure consisted of thrifting in hopes of finding a Nintendo 64... which is serious adventure to us.

But the idea that in just two short months, I'll be (maybe camping) on a beach with Mr. Hagen has got me looking for the fast forward button.

Short and Sweet

We didn't have much time together this time around. Just one and a half evenings. But sister time is always a good thing. Even in small packages.

This is Emily's "ok, I'm smiling... take the picture" face. Isn't she cute?

And this is Christina's "that camera is really close to my face" look. Also just so cute!

The pictures on the left were taken in the summer of 2003. The pictures in the middle are from summer 2008. The ones on the right are from summer 2010. I feel a tradition forming.

Five

This picture was taken 5 years ago on our honeymoon. It's one of maybe 3 pictures from our honeymoon that actually turned out, and I'm so thankful it did. I love it.

Dave,

I was thinking yesterday about me accidentally saying, "I love you," when I meant to say, "my arm hurts." Maybe that means I'm sleep deprived or slowly losing my mind. But I think it means that there's so much love inside me for you that it just seeps out unexpectedly.

I love hearing you laugh at stupid TV from the kitchen when I'm making dinner. I love the way you are always smiling when you walk into the house after a long day of work. I love that we argue over things that don't matter but that we are almost always in sync with the things that do matter. We started as best friends, and we're still best friends.

Thanks for opening all my jars and popping my back with your bear hugs. You're my very favorite.

Happy Happy 5th Anniversary!

HOR! SES!

In 11 days, my mom and my sisters will be in town. This makes me so very very happy. In honor of their upcoming arrival, I've been thinking of some of the funny things that have happened between us all. Inside jokes mostly. Like yelling, "HOR! SES!" or "spider-puppy." Things that make absolutely no sense to most people, but immediately send us into fits of giggles where we just all take turns saying, "we didn't haaaaaave any ketchup" through our laughing tears.
These two ladies are hilarious, they're talented, they're beautiful, and they're my little sisters. Lucky lucky me.

Fondness

Maybe what they say about absence is true, but I'm feeling especially thankful for this guy lately.

Dave's been working all day every day for a couple weeks now, so our time together is limited. Thus is the life of an engineer's wife, it turns out. But the time we have had together has been so so good.

Last night (early this morning, actually) we discussed things we remembered about dating back in high school. It was really fun to revisit those memories and to make fun of our awkward, naive high school selves. I told him about the afternoon in Wyoming when I came to the realization that I really liked him, the swing we were on when I knew we would get married, the half hour we spent taking bobby pins out of my hair after our wedding. The very special small moments that we have are now making up something so much greater. It's unpredictable in the absolute best of ways.

Yesterday I came across this music video and song by Andrew Peterson and it just made me so very thankful and so very contemplative of my marriage.

Dancing in the Minefields

We're coming up on our 5th anniversary, so if you're sick of the sappiness, you may want to take a small vacation from my blog. It will only get worse.

Kindness

There's a painting I just 1/2 finished (meaning, it could be considered finished by some people and if I weren't so persnickety I might also call it finished) that's a simple textured green background with white letters. It says, "be kind. it matters." It's a reminder to myself that even when I'm a total grumpus and I'm having a really super terrible day, it's crucial to be kind to the people around me. The people I love and know very well and the people I don't know very well and only love out of principle. Because you're supposed to love everyone, right? And there are a lot of people that I really really love. Out of principle. And I've been thinking about kindness a lot lately.

This weekend, my youngest sister, my mom, and two friends came into town to visit. One evening we walked them around downtown to see some of the Honky Tonks and bright lights and cheap souvenirs. We walked through "Printer's Alley" on the way to the car, which is sort of a shady place in Nashville. Shady as in nude karaoke, so you know... seriously shady. A very stumbling homeless man holding a bottle of mouth wash (that wasn't filled with mouth wash) came over to my husband and mumbled something inaudible. Dave leaned in, the man repeated himself, "will you shake my hand?" Dave said, "yeah, of course." Shook his hand and stood and talked for a moment. Dave mostly saying, "I'm sorry? I didn't understand that." And things of that nature. For some reason, with all these thoughts on kindness floating around in my head lately, standing there watching Dave politely talking and shaking hands with a man who was so entirely sloppy drunk and incomprehensible and shouting profanities, I got choked up. Now, that's obviously a testament to how irrational I am... that a homeless man yelling curses outside of a nude karaoke bar was a sweet emotional moment for me, but it's also a great example of the kind of man I'm married to. That he stands there shaking hands for a few minutes and trying to talk with said homeless man.

But, that's not entirely what this blog post is about. This is really about a very sweet couple that will remain nameless for the purpose of this little space. These are people who have only spent a tiny bit of time with us. Hardly know me, I feel. Great people, as far as I know. Really great.

And for some reason, I keep trying to give excuses for their kindness. Because if they did know me better, perhaps they wouldn't be so kind... and maybe it's easier for them to be generous because they don't know first hand how I think or act or feel. How I can get so judgmental, or how I can be selfish and materialistic, or the way I forget about being kind sometimes when the people I'm not nice to desperately need me to be nice. Maybe if they knew those things about me, they wouldn't have given us the gift they did. They wouldn't have cared so much that they went out of their way to be good people to us. Because if they were so so kind and generous to the person they think I am, I ought to try to be that person, right?

And thinking about all of that gets to this place that feels a lot like grace, and a lot like mercy, and a lot like Christ. I am not who I want to be and I'm not perfect. Not even remotely close. But there is kindness out there waiting for me regardless of the mess I am. So thank you so very much, friends. Thank you for being generous and altruistic and for giving me a snapshot of grace in a moment that surely needed it.

Feels Like Home

If you're here for Pin it Forward, welcome welcome! Pull up a seat and stay awhile! My name is steph. I'm just learning to call myself an artist and this little blog is where I pretend to also be a writer.

If you're a regular here and you have no idea what Pin it Forward is, let me do a quick explanation. Bloggers like to be friends with other bloggers, and this a way we can do that. Victoria of sfgirlbybay and some kind folks from Pinterest got together and decided that a bunch of bloggers should create a chain that gives a little glimpse into what home means for a big bunch of bloggers. One person passes the pinning torch to the next, and there it goes, on down the line. It's pretty cool. Now it's my turn to talk about what home means to me.

Home is very much a figurative thing for me; in fact, home has to mean something a little different. And I don't mind that one bit. This crazy thing happened to my family when I was in the 7th grade which sort of forced us out of our home with little notice. I affectionately call it "the homeless year, " a title my parents are not so affectionate towards I'm sure. But when my brother and two younger sisters and I sit around and talk about the memories we have from that time, it's all happiness and hilarity from cabin balconies. We had plenty of places to stay: grandma's farm, the aforementioned cabin by the lake, a couple of houses that friends were trying to sell, and so on. It was more of an adventure than a misfortune. So the idea of home means lots of things to me besides houses.

Thanks to Nicole from Three by Sea for passing the torch to me, and tomorrow, go visit the really pretty Mae Photo + Design blog for her idea of home.

My Papa

Father's Day was yesterday and that means Father's Day is on the blog roll for today. If you know my dad, you know that he's awesome. If you don't know my dad, you totally should.

When my dad left the staff at my home church in Missouri, something really cool happened. There was a big party for him on his last Sunday. They had Nascar cupcakes and loud music. It was super awkward for him, because he is in no way a limelight type of guy. He'd rather sit in a canoe on the lake for hours all by himself. But what went down that Sunday will always be one of the coolest days of my life, I believe. An hour or so into the party, people started lining up, unplanned, to talk to my dad and the rest of the family. They began telling us stories about how awesome he was basically. Stories about how he was strong in a situation that needed strength, stories about how he said just the right thing when something needed to be said, stories about a funny situation, stories about a child he helped turned into an adult, stories about the music he played at church that brought them to a place they desperately needed to be. My dad is cool - and other people know it. I was in tears most of the morning as other people were. It was such a moment of clarification for me. As an adult you learn to appreciate things about your parents that you can't when you're younger. I learned so much about my dad. He is the man that other men should aspire to be. He's kind, he's giving, he's gracious to no end, he is smart and talented, he is the dad that all other dads should be measured by. I mean that.

Papa,
I know this makes you uncomfortable because you don't believe most of this stuff. But that's just one more thing about you that's awesome. You have taught me humility in a way that I can't learn from the rest of the world. I've said before that one reason I can trust in a God that is Abba and loving and just and strong is because I have a dad who is the human version of that. Thank you for being a leader to our family. Thank you for riding shopping carts through the parking lot and making cow noises when we drive past a farm. Thank you for not caring about "stuff" and teaching your kids that stuff is nothing compared to the love of a family. Thanks for teaching me how to spit sunflower seeds and showing me how to take off a rabbit's pajamas. Thank you for listening to and giving your lunch to that kid in my 5th grade class that didn't have a lunch during the field trip to the Renaissance Festival. Thank you for being a dad that we never once had to question. And never once had to make excuses for. You said something to me on my way out the door to a party in high school. "Remember whose you are." I know that you didn't mean you - you meant Christ. But remembering that I'm your daughter is pretty great too.
I love you so very much,
Squirt

This Old House

I read a book once about a man who goes crazy. He lives on a commune with a rotating assortment of people and they do normal commune things, as I picture communes. They live off the land and stay up late playing music and talking philosophy. The book is extremely interesting, as it's a true story of schizophrenia, but one thing that kind of puzzled me about the book was the description of the farm. Every time they mentioned something new about the house or the yard, almost every description made me picture this place.

This is my great-grandma's house. It's in Northeast Missouri in the middle of miles and miles of farm land. My family used to come here every now and then, after my great-grandma had passed away, and I was always completely intrigued by the house. We weren't allowed to open closets or go upstairs. We weren't allowed to go too close to the pond in the yard or swing too fast on the porch swing. As a kid, this place was a giant mystery I wasn't able to unlock. It has a different sort of smell, different feels, different bones and every new thing was exciting in some way.

Three years ago I came here for the first time in probably 15 years; but I didn't get the chance to explore the house in a way I had wanted to. It was still fascinating, but I still couldn't really dive in to the history.

This past weekend I got to revisit the house again - this time with just my dad. We quietly walked through the house like we were time travelers almost, afraid to touch something for fear of disturbing the space-time continuum or stepping on a butterfly and waking up a baby in China. Nothing is modern there. Apart from our clothes and my camera, I may have been the youngest thing in the house. It looks like it's been untouched for years. I love everything about it. I love the peeling wallpaper, the beehives that have been built in the walls, the silo in the backyard, the blue tiled bathroom, the lace curtains upstairs, the stack of old records - Johnny Cash and June Carter, of course - the creaking floors, the rattling door knobs, everything.

I want to stay up until 4 in the morning with a group of very close friends in this house. I want to learn to cultivate a garden and play the guitar and for Dave to grow a giant beard in this house. I don't know what it is about the farm that makes me want to suddenly abandon TV and air conditioning and possibly my iPhone... still deciding about that one... and go back to a time that I was never actually able to experience. But the longer I sit and think about it, the more I want to sit on the floor in the living room and become a crazy, schizophrenic hippy discussing the meaning of life.

My Mama

So I'm sitting here eating Bugles and drinking Sprite for breakfast like that's a totally normal thing to do, and I realized that I never posted my Mother's Day blog. I had written something lovely about my mama, because she is a lovely lady and then forgot to show it to the world (cough... 12 readers.) So, I apologize for the delay. But a late Mother's Day blog is better than no Mother's Day blog.

My mom is awesome. Really. She's the type of mom who would pick me up at one in the morning from a friend's house after everyone at the sleepover had gone to sleep except for me and I was afraid. She's the type of person who ALWAYS thinks about how other people feel and tries to see things from their perspective. Especially her kids. She drove me back and forth to all sorts of cheerleading events (I'll wait for you to stop laughing at that mental picture) and school functions and parties. She is the mom that becomes a mother to her children's friends that need a mother. She will talk your ear off if you need someone to talk to you, and she will listen while you talk her ear off if you need someone to listen to you. She is the person who would take me to see Dave at college every weekend, hang out around town for a few hours, and then drive me the hour and a half back home at midnight. She's awesome at Math and English and organization and she loves to read. She is so funny, she is so smart, and she is so loving. You may think your mom is cooler, but you're wrong. My mom deserves much more credit than what she gets. That's partially my fault.

Mama,

I LOVE YOU. You're a genuinely great person. I've learned so much from you in the past 23 years. It's because of you that I have confidence in who I am as a woman, that I make some of the wise choices I make (let's ignore those unwise choices for this letter's purposes,) and that I know how to love others through understanding them. I really believe that I will be a good mom someday. I don't believe that because of how much I want children, or how I act or feel around kids. I believe that because YOU are a good mom, and you taught me everything I know about being a mother. I'm proud of you and I am grateful to you. Let's get some skittles and go for a drive.

Love you tons,

Little Missy

Pre-Mother's Day

Before the big mother's day festivities, I want to talk about my own "before motherhood."

To get a bit of background on my thoughts of being a mother someday (if you haven't been following this blog long) check here and here.

Last Mother's Day was rough. I'm pretty sure I cried through the whole day off and on. Everything about that day was a reminder to me that something was missing from my life and I felt totally alone in that. Everyone was pregnant. Everyone had kids. Everyone was celebrating except for me. I was bitter and sad. I was frantic about all of the unknowns - thinking about getting pregnant but not being able to, wanting to have kids but knowing a wait was in store... it was all just very overwhelming. I was afraid of infertility, of instability, of timing outside of my control, and of so many other things.

Because I've written about all of that before, I just want to say to any of you that may be going through some of that this weekend: you AREN'T alone. Everyone is not pregnant. Everyone doesn't have kids. Lots of people are hurting along side you. These words won't help. I know that. But I needed to say them. If nothing else, just so I could read back over them and know that I thought that at one point in my own life and that I said it. I'm hopeful that this Sunday will be better for me than last Mother's Day was, that God would calm my anxious spirit, and that anyone else going through infertility, waiting, miscarriages, sadness, hurt, or bitterness would have an overpowering hope this weekend.

Christmas 2009

Givin' Thanks

Here's the crew after Thanksgiving dinner. Top left is Jonathan and heading clockwise, Emily, Dave, me, Trysta, Steve, and Christina. Right in the middle is mom and dad, Brian and Regina.

Hope you all had a wonderful Thanksgiving. Here are a few things I'm especially thankful for this Thanksgiving:

1. The support I've had for my artwork from all directions. This year marked my first attempt to sell artwork, my first art show (besides high school), and my first sale. I couldn't be more proud of myself for venturing out finally to try these things. I so appreciate the encouragement and love I've received from you all for these ventures.

2. New friends. I joke about divorcing my friends this time of year, because I have way too many Christmas gifts to make now that my list of close friends and family is growing. But in all honesty, even if I go broke from it all it was worth it. In the past few months I've made some friends that I know I'll always have. I've never in my life had such an awesome group of friends, and I am beyond thankful for their special place in my life.

3. Old friends. You too! I'm glad you are still putting up with me.

4. A job. I don't know if you've noticed this, but I tend to grumble about my job. I AM thankful that I've got a job, that my coworkers are loving, generous people, that I can rely on a paycheck twice a month, and that what we do here is a good, good thing.

5. Family. It seems obvious, I suppose, but I am seriously thankful for my family. I've been given a great husband. You know that. I've also got some amazing friends built right in - my big brothers, Jason and the Steves (which sounds like a good band name to me.) Big sisters, Chris, Jen, and Trysta who are all so cool and talented. Little sisters, Emily and Christina around whom my whole world turns. And the newest addition of a.. sort of, I guess... little brother? Jonathan, I don't know if you're comfortable with that yet or not, but it doesn't even matter because you're in the family picture this year and we love you for all kind of reasons, but especially because you make The Bean happy. And of course, Dave and I have been blessed beyond measure with two of the best sets of parents ever. Really. Ever. They're stellar.

Birthday Man

Gushing is probably a good word for how I talk about Dave on this blog... so I'm going to leave it simple today.

Happy Birthday to the best husband ever. Seriously, he's cool. Love you, buddy.

Atlanta or bust!

This weekend was awesome. This is us in the car - we are so cool with our sunglasses on, right?

This is where we ate breakfast. Fanciest restaurant I've ever been in... and the breakfast was free because we told them we were there for Dave's birthday. Awesome blueberry and oat muffin.

This was the view from our room.

And this is our room. Amazing. Hands down the nicest place either of us had ever stayed. We felt like we were tricking the hotel staff into thinking we were wealthy. Thank you to Priceline.com for the 50% off hotel stay, thank you to restaurant.com for awesome coupons, thank you to Mom and Dad for the fun at Medieval Times, and thank you Dave for not freaking out about money the whole weekend. :)

Tonight we're going to have dinner out with our wonderful Nashville friends, because Dave works tomorrow evening (his actual birthday). It kind of feels strange to be married to a 25 year old. It makes me feel like a grown-up or something.

Missing Home

This week offcially marks the start of the 6th month I've been away from home. That's the longest I've ever gone without making a trip back to Missouri, and I certainly am feeling it. I don't know if it's the weather or the upcoming holidays, but I am ready for a trip back. Unfortunately, I have to wait a few more weeks until Thanksgiving.

I've been thinking a lot lately about family... about how it's so foundational, but it spreads far beyond foundation and becomes intertwined with every bit of life. I've been so lucky to have the family I do; I'm so so lucky.

To the family that raised me and to the family that I gained 4 years ago, you're family that has chosen to love me even after you were forced to love me - to all of you back in Missouri - I love you, and I miss you, and I'll see you soon.